Miruth sat on his throne.
One elbow on the armrest, chin resting in his palm, eyes closed. Thinking, or pretending to. It was sometimes hard to tell the difference with him.
Luccos sat at his feet. Clothes dirty. Eyes down.
Mite leaned against a pillar nearby, eating a piece of fruit, unbothered.
The throne room was quiet.
"Find them," Miruth said. Eyes still closed.
Mite kept eating.
Luccos glanced toward him.
Miruth opened his eyes.
"Mite."
The fruit hit the floor.
"Yes, my king." Mite straightened immediately, something close to panic crossing his face.
"They escaped."
"Who—"
Miruth looked at him.
Mite swallowed. "Understood, my king. I'll find them now." He was already moving toward the door.
After he left, Miruth leaned back and laughed — low, genuinely amused.
"That boy survived again."
Interesting.
"I want to know what he has." He tapped his fingers against the throne. "What makes him different."
Nearby, Luccos kept his head down. But his mind was already turning.
Who escaped. Who got out.
Outside, Mite gathered the guards into a line.
"Find them both. Now. No food for any of you until they're back." He turned and walked away. "Move."
"Yes, sir."
To himself, quietly: "How is he still alive. I killed him. I watched him drop."
He shook his head and kept walking.
Jhed and Nain ran until the sounds of the fortress faded behind them.
They stopped in a narrow, empty alley — crumbling walls on both sides, no one in sight. Jhed bent forward with his hands on his knees, breathing hard.
"Where are we going, Nain?" he managed between breaths.
"Sigh. Give me a second." Nain pressed her back against the wall. Then— "I need to get my father out."
"Where is he?"
She pointed behind them.
Jhed turned.
His eyes went wide.
"You're joking."
"No. My father is in there."
She was pointing at the fortress. The same fortress they had just escaped from. The same walls, the same gates, the same guards who were probably already looking for them.
"Miruth has him captive," Nain said. The sadness on her face was quiet and old, like something she'd been carrying for a long time.
Jhed stared at the fortress.
Then at her.
Then back at the fortress.
If we go back in, we'll be caught. And if I'm caught, he'll put spears through me again. That hurts. A lot. I could just say no. Walk away. What's the worst that happens.
Coward, something said. You're always running.
His stomach turned.
"I'm sorry." The words came out before he'd fully decided them. "I can't go back in there with you."
Nain looked at him.
"What do you mean you can't."
"I can't help you with this."
"You can't, or you won't."
He didn't answer.
"I got you out of that cell," she said. Her voice was controlled, but her nose had gone slightly red — the way it did, he was starting to notice, when she was angry. "I melted the door. I ran with you. And now you're telling me—"
"I never asked you to do any of that."
"Oh." A short, cold sound. "So that's how it is."
"I'm not from here," Jhed said, quieter now. "I don't belong to this city, this war, any of it. I was going to leave anyway."
"I thought you were different." Her voice had dropped. "I thought — you seemed different from everyone else."
She turned away from him.
"Coward," she said.
Not angry. Just — stating a fact.
She started walking toward the fortress alone.
The word stayed in the alley after she left.
Coward. Coward. Coward.
Jhed stood there.
His stomach was doing something unpleasant. His feet weren't moving in the direction he'd told himself they would.
I'm not a coward, he thought.
I'm not.
He looked at the fortress.
Then at the direction she'd gone.
Then at the fortress again.
...I hate this.