Tyrant, Martyr, Saviour

"Go in there and don't forget to show courtesy," the man told Reyna as she shrugged the guards away and straightened her sleeves.

This time, she scowled at him. "I never forget. I'd only return courtesy once I receive it." Then she ignored the startlement on his face and entered the room.

"Dear sister!" Oh fuck. "You're safe!" Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Egon's arms closed around her, hard. His hugs were the most unpleasant; it always felt like he wanted to strangle her. She believed he might actually do that once they got out of here. Right now, he had to play his part.

He released her from his grip after what seemed like forever, then grabbed her face and swept his eyes down her body with a look of pity. She knew he felt nothing from deep inside. He could mimic human's emotions but he couldn't feel them. She'd heard her maids joke that when he bled, his blood turned to ice. It wasn't until now that she believed it.

Thud Thud Thud

Reyna couldn't help but roll her eyes at the sound of Calanthe's sceptre hitting the floor. The Queen must have seen that reaction but didn't make any remark about it.

"Lovely," she said wryly. "However, I believe we weren't done with our...discussion."

"Oh, we were." Egon smiled at the Queen, whose face was taut with rage.

It was only now that Reyna surveyed the room and saw no more than five Northern soldiers. Egon always travelled with at least ten. Maybe he wanted to show that he'd come in peace, which was far from the truth.

"I'm taking my sister home," he asserted.

"And I cannot stop you," said Calanthe from her throne. "I just want to make sure that you do realize what it would cost you and your people. In my court, people don't just come and go as they please."

"She's not one of your subjects, Calanthe. She's the princess of Isolde," Egon said as he tucked a strand of hair behind Reyna's face. "Soon to be Queen of Attwell."

"What?" Reyna mumbled as her heart jumped. Murmurs from the courtiers got her ears buzzing but couldn't take her attention away from her brother, who smiled devilishly at her. She should have seen this coming.

"I beg your pardon?" Calanthe asked. For the first time, Reyna had to agree.

"She's going to marry Kavan Gennady, Prince of Attwell," Egon announced to the whole court. The whisperings grew louder.

"Didn't she run away with a prisoner?" Calanthe mocked, and everyone started talking on top of each other. The Queen slammed her sceptre on the ground and the room fell to silence once again.

Reyna knew Calanthe had said that to shame her, but she was glad someone had reminded Egon of what she'd done. Maybe he'd reconsider his decision to marry her off to Kavan Gennady.

"After our investigation, it turned out that she was kidnapped."

Everyone gasped at the same time.

"Were you?" Calanthe's gaze jumped to Reyna, who hadn't got a chance to answer when Egon interjected.

"Anyway, my sister's marriage is none of your concern, Calanthe."

Calanthe grimaced. "She's a murder suspect and you're about to take her from my court before the trial."

"If she's a murder suspect, show us all the evidence."

"There shall be evidence presented at the trial."

"So there's no evidence," Egon proclaimed, spreading his arm as he spun around like he'd just performed a magic trick in front of Calanthe's court. The audience was awfully quiet. All eyes focused on their new Queen, who was unable to hide her distress.

"If you leave my court now–"

"There shall be a war," Egon challenged with his nose stuck up. "I think I'm more aware of how politics work. No offence."

Calanthe slammed her sceptre once again and jumped to her feet. "How dare you say that to a queen?"

"Because I'm a king, Calanthe," Egon said, his expression stone cold. "And when I'm here, I'm not bound by your rules. Neither is my sister."

"Are you challenging me?"

Egon gave her question a dismissive wave. "My presence in your court is already a challenge, my dear. I'm taking Reyna with me whether you like it or not. And you and I shall meet again on the battlefield. If you're going to be there, of course."

The Lord Chancellor leaned in to whisper something in the Queen's ear. Nodding her head, she sucked in a breath as anger coloured her face. Soon she was almost as red as the colour of her dress. "We shall," she agreed. "Your heads will look so good on my curtain wall."

"Don't flatter me. Red looks better on you, Calanthe," Egon said and motioned for his soldiers to escort Reyna out of the room. Reyna shot an apologetic glance at Calanthe before she left, and at that moment, she saw fear crossing the Queen's tiny face.

As soon as they stepped into the courtyard, Egon smacked Reyna across the face and sent her straight to the ground. She winced, cupping her cheek which burnt after the slap, but she didn't get up until two of his men hauled her up by the arms.

Egon brushed her hair out of her face and pinched her cheeks hard. "Did you really think you could escape me, you stupid bitch?"

She breathed harshly through her nose, holding his aggressive stare. "Please, Egon," she muttered. "Don't do this. Thousands of people will die. Women and children–You might die!"

He tossed his head back and burst out laughing as if she'd just told a joke. "The other kingdoms have turned their backs to Theros," he said, his face scrunched up again. "Do you really think they would respect a woman as a ruler? Don't be stupid, dear sister. Just look at the faces in that room. They could not wait to witness her defeat. Most of them might even surrender before we attack this castle. So no, I'm not afraid of death. Death should be afraid of me."

Reyna tried to turn her face away, but her arms were restricted and Egon was pinching her cheeks so hard her jaw began to ache.

"You see, this is why women don't rule," he said through his gritted teeth. "They let their feelings guide the way, let their hearts make decisions. You, just like her, are only a pawn."

"No," she managed to speak.

"No?" He squeezed even tighter as if he wanted to pluck her jaw out of her head. "Oh, right. You're not a pawn, are you? You're going to be a queen." His brows drew together as he bared his white teeth like a predator, his hot breath fanning her face, his eyes going dark. "Long live the Queen."

.

.

.

When Rowan had come to talk to Kenny, her mother had been shocked to see that he wasn't dead. He must admit that it was satisfying to see Patricia Rowley's round face turn ashen as if she were staring at a ghost. If only the fun had lasted longer. Once Patricia was sure he was a real person, she had looked him up and down and said in a spiteful and condescending tone, "Her husband had come to take her home. It'll be for the best if you stay away from her, boy."

Then she'd given a dismissive wave and turned on him to make sure he knew he was still that same dirty poor boy who didn't deserve her daughter.

That day, he'd gone home feeling quite relieved that he wouldn't have to break Kenny's heart for good. Until the things left unsaid overtook him. They became a heavy burden that he would have to carry wherever he went. Would Kenny ever forgive him? He hated her mother, but that woman hadn't been wrong. He didn't deserve Kenny. Not even as a friend.

It'd been three weeks since the night at the tavern. He was finally healing. Or so he thought. He'd been keeping his hands and mind busy with hunting trips with Caleb. They sold the animals they'd hunted and earned some low income. It was fine. Not great. Just fine. Fine was enough for someone like him.

Jenny had advised him to reopen their father's blacksmith shop as it would be a steadier source of income. He was still considering it. He wasn't good at the job but he could learn. He might. Right now, he had no motivation.

He'd stopped stealing and cheating, but he wouldn't count it as an accomplishment since he now slept with every attractive woman he came across. Hell, by the time he'd figured out what to do with his pathetic life, he might have already fucked this entire city. He didn't know what else to do in order to not feel so empty, because while he was inside someone or had someone's mouth or hands all over him, all he could think about was her.

He'd waited every day for the response from the sisters or news of the upcoming war, but there was none. For the first week, he'd been worried that the sisters had refused to help Reyna, or the letter hadn't got to them yet, or something bad had happened to them. But when that week had ended and there'd been no news of the letter, he'd decided to give up. He hadn't sold the ring as it was the only thing of her that he'd got left, but every time he looked at it, he was reminded of her, of what they could have been if they weren't who they were.

Every night, while lying next to a stranger and the stranger had fallen asleep, he would tell himself that in another life, they'd be together again. They'd have a normal life, had children, a dog called Whisker or a cat called...

He wasn't sure what he wanted to name their cat. But he wanted it to have white fur, like snow, like the land she'd come from, like the night they'd met, like the moment at the stable when he'd been struck by the way those white flakes danced their way down her clothes and her hair...

Before he'd drifted, he'd decided to call their white cat Treasure. After all, their adventure had begun with the treasure in her satchel, but all along she'd been the gold he'd been looking for. Now he was empty-handed. No gold. No lover.

True lovers always find their way back to each other, she had told him at the river where her parents had met. She'd believed her parents had met again in the afterlife and finally got a normal life, which had been taken from them since the day they'd been born. Just like her.

He'd said nothing that night, but he'd believed everything she'd said. He would maintain that faith, that if they couldn't find their way back to each other in this lifetime, he'd meet her in another life as different people. They would say hello, and try again.

Three weeks had passed. Everything seemed to have fallen into place. Until today, when trouble finally came to him.

It came knocking on his door at the break of dawn. No, not knocking. Pounding. He was barely awake and he thought it was a dream until he opened the door and Kenny crashed into his arms. She was shaking and pale like a ghost. He asked her what was wrong. And before she could explain, he heard shouting from the front yard. He recognized the voice. It was Gideon.

Rowan balled his fists and told Kenny to wait inside while he went out to see what Gideon wanted. If that son of a bitch had threatened to hurt Kenny—if he had hurt Kenny, Rowan would kill him with his bare hands.

"Rowan, no!" Kenny cried out as she seized his wrist, but her strength was no match for his. He marched toward the door, forcing her to stumble along. Gideon was waiting outside, his face red and twisted with rage.

"You have something that's mine." He pinned Kenny with his eyes and she recoiled behind Rowan's back.

"Something?" Rowan somehow kept his tone calm though his blood was boiling. "She's your wife."

Eyes narrowed, Gideon stabbed a finger at him. "You. You put this crazy idea into her head."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rowan scoffed. Kenny clutched his arm tighter and he placed a hand over hers to calm her down. That one simple gesture had triggered Gideon.

"You dirty whore," he barked. "Have you been letting him fuck you?"

"Do not talk to her that way," Rowan warned, his fingers aching to reach for the dagger at his side. He would not start his day by killing someone. Not even Gideon was worth it.

"Give that whore back to me."

Rowan turned a deaf ear to Gideon and looked over his shoulder, meeting Kenny's glossy brown eyes. "You're not going anywhere. Nobody's taking you anywhere."

She nodded and looked ahead, then her eyes went wide. "Watch out!"

Rowan shoved her aside just in time to dodge Gideon's knife. The bastard had been carrying it the whole time and Rowan had worried too much about Kenny to notice. Gideon shouted and aimed for Rowan's chest. Rowan kicked him hard in the stomach, elbowed his jaw, snatched the knife from his hand and tugged his arm backwards over his shoulder. There was a loud crack and Gideon was on the ground, howling like wounded prey.

Kenny had ducked back into the house, hiding her face behind the door and sobbing out loud. Gideon was still wailing in the dirt with a broken arm. If Rowan hadn't been weary from his lack of sleep, he would be laughing at this scene.

"You crazy...you crazy fuck! You broke my arm!"

"Next time it'll be your neck," Rowan said and yanked Gideon up by his collar. "Don't fucking come back for her or I'll cut your throat and dump your body into the river."

Gideon ran without looking back. He'd seen what Rowan was capable of and didn't want to test his patience.

When Rowan turned back to Kenny and asked if she was all right, he noticed the bruises on her arms. She saw him staring and tugged down her sleeves.

"What happened?" he asked. She was still trembling.

"I told you I'd been saving for my own business. He found the money and took it all." She rubbed the bruises over the fabric of her dress. Her gaze dropped as she continued. "And he...he hit me. I escaped but he found me at my mother's house and chased me all the way here." Her voice began to break. "I'm s-sorry I came....I didn't...didn't want to get you in trouble. But I have nowhere else to go. My mum...she didn't allow me to enter the house. She wanted me to stay with Gideon and I...I can't stay with him...He'd hit me again..."

Rowan shushed her softly and looped his arms around her shoulders, drawing her close. She buried her face into his chest, sobbing hysterically. He waited for her to quiet down before he went on, "You can stay here. We'll figure something out."

She pulled back to look up as he lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry," she whispered, tears swimming in her big brown eyes.

"No, I'm sorry." He held her shoulders and squeezed. "I won't let anyone hurt you again." He hoped she knew he meant it.

.

.

.

"Princess, you've got to eat."

"I'm. Not. Hungry."

The maid shrank back in fear and glanced cautiously at the tray of untouched food and then Reyna, who took a deep breath and turned back to the window. She had no idea how long she'd been sitting on this window sill and staring longingly at the boring snow-covered garden. Time passed so slowly when she was in this castle that it felt like Isolde had its own concept of time. Minutes became hours. Hours became weeks. And weeks became years. It felt like three years had passed since she'd last seen him. She couldn't believe it.

She'd just got back to Isolde last week. Her brother had made sure they hadn't made too many stops along the way. The sooner we get home, he'd said, the faster I could start planning this war.

Home? This didn't feel like home anymore. It hadn't since her mother had died. She'd been locked up and forbidden from any contact with the outside world. She could only speak to Aleia – her new maid. She had no idea where they kept Jo, but she believed Egon wouldn't harm Jo now that she was carrying his future heir.

After all the shit that Reyna had gone through, finding out about Jo's pregnancy hadn't shocked her as much as it should have. Despite what had happened between them, she still cared about Jo, and she really hoped the baby was a boy. Egon would make Jo's life a living hell if it was a girl. Reyna's hands were tied now; she wouldn't be able to protect Jo or her nephew. She was no saviour after all.

It'd been easy to imagine herself defeating Egon when Egon wasn't there. Next to him, she was nothing. She'd been nothing her whole life. The only time she'd been something was when she'd been with Rowan. She couldn't be anything now that she was on her own, without anyone to tell her they believed in her.

She didn't hear the maid leave, but she felt her absence and turned to find that the tray was gone. The maid had given up on her, too. Good, she thought. She'd rather starve and die than live to see her brother bathe this kingdom with his people's blood.

A few moments later, the door flew open. She didn't bother to turn; there could only be one person who would make that dramatic entrance.

"Princess..." Alaia trembled. Reyna heard the clinking of cutlery so she looked over her shoulder to see the maid holding the same food tray. But this time her brother was standing at the door, two guards behind him.

"Put it on the table," Egon ordered, his voice rough reminding her of the way he'd hit her before. He hadn't laid a finger on her since they'd got into the carriage outside Calanthe's castle, but every moment after, she'd expected it. She couldn't even sleep.

"I'm not hungry," she told him.

He gestured for Aleia and his guards to dismiss, and they all retreated into the hallway and shut the door.

"I don't care if you're hungry," he said in an unusually calm tone and gracefully dropped down on one of the chairs at the table. He leaned back and rubbed his chin, inspecting her. "You're too skinny. Your future husband won't like that. Oh, have I forgotten to tell you that you're seeing him in three days? He's travelling all the way here for you. Is that romantic?"

"No."

Egon stuck out his bottom lip and shrugged. He didn't care if she agreed. "Well, come on. Eat while it's still hot. I asked the cook to make you your favourite salmon soup and–"

"I'm not marrying Kavan." The words slipped out before she could catch them and shove them back down her throat. Her fists clenched as Egon pinned her with his dark eyes, which softened at once, and he smiled. Her fear made him relax.

"Don't be silly, Reyn. You are."

"I'm not. I don't wish to marry him. I don't wish to ever marry." This time, she'd said those words purposefully. If he was going to kill her, it was only a matter of time. If Rowan's speculations had been true, that Egon needed her alive, then the worst thing that could happen to her was getting locked up. She'd rather rot with the rats than obey him any longer.

But his next question stabbed her hard in the guts.

"Are you in love with someone else?"

She couldn't answer. It didn't matter if she confirmed or denied it, Egon already knew.

"Did you let him fuck you?"

"What?"

"Are you still a virgin?" Her ears buzzed as if there were a swarm of bees living inside her head. "You're not, are you?" His voice got more raucous. "I did all of this to bring you home, and clear your crimes, and find you a husband, and make you the future queen of a kingdom, and this is how you repay me?!"

"I owe you nothing."

He backhanded her so hard she toppled back and hit the table. The food tray rattled but didn't fall to the floor, and neither did she. She was still standing though her face burnt and her jaw ached. She cupped her sore cheek and scowled at him, her teeth clenched, her fist tight. He took a step forward. This time, she stood still, second-guessing his next move.

He stabbed a finger at her face. "You are nothing without me," he said. "I'm your King. I own you."

"Nobody owns me. I belong to no one."

He raised his palm and she caught his wrist before he could touch her. Egon was physically much stronger and could easily break her hand, yet he was so shocked by her reaction that he froze for a second. She spat in his face and shoved him off. He violently grabbed her by the hair and pulled so hard she felt as if her scalp was coming off. She gasped, trying to wriggle out of his grip when he pushed her to the floor and called for his guards. Once her vision cleared, she pushed herself up weakly to find two guards in the doorway. Their face was taut with concern when they saw her like this. Then she was reminded that not everyone was heartless like her brother.

"Take the Princess to the dungeon," Egon said as he wiped her spit with his sleeve. A corner of her mouth turned up. She felt weirdly satisfied. She didn't try to fight back when the guards twisted her hands behind her back and pulled her up. They were gentle. Probably because she was their princess, and they'd known her since her parents had been alive. As they directed her out of the room, she heard Egon say, "If she tries to escape, you're allowed to hurt her. As long as you keep her alive. And don't leave marks."

"Yes, Your Majesty," said the guards.

She didn't even remember how she got to the dungeon. She didn't even remember walking there. Her feet had carried her on their own, and by the time she'd snapped back to reality, she was already standing behind bars. The guard locked the door, gave her a sympathetic look and took off without a single word. It was so quiet here. All the other inmates must be asleep. She flopped down on the hard ground and hugged her knees to her chest.

She remembered this place. This was where she and Rowan had met for the first time. Well, the second time. She smiled at the memory though it seemed so far away. The air was hot and humid. She was sweating under her heavy dress. She rested her cheek on her knee and stared at a crack on the wall. For how long? She didn't know. She stared and stared until her eyes grew heavy. A voice from the cell opposite from hers pulled her right back.

"Pretty lady!"

She snapped her head up and saw the bearded man whom she recognized. "Hey, Mick," she said, her voice hoarse. She nearly burst into tears. "I'm so glad to see you again." Was she, though? Maybe she was just glad she could talk to someone.

"I'm not Mick," the man said with a nonchalant smile. "I'm Rowan Zuko!"

"Right..." She giggled despite herself. Although it was always good to hear his name. "I missed you."

"So his name isn't Rowan Zuko?"

A female voice from the cell beside Mick stole her attention. She got up and walked toward the bars to get a better look at whoever was speaking. The woman was sitting in the shadow; Reyna couldn't see her face.

"He's been telling everyone that was his name," the woman said.

"My name's Rowan Zuko!" Mick repeated, sounding as cheerful as before.

Reyna ignored him. "Rowan Zuko was the prisoner who used to be in this cell," she told the lady. "I knew him."

"What happened? Where is he and why are you in his place?"

"It's a long story."

"I've got time. I'm not going anywhere."

Reyna suppressed a laugh at the joke. Was it a joke or did this situation make everything funny? She bunched up her dress and flopped down on the floor, crossing her legs and resting her head against the cold metal bars. She drew in a soft breath.

"I helped him escape," she began, her voice much softer than she thought. "We went on an adventure together. It felt like a dream. Then I woke up, and I'm back here. But he's home and safe with his family so I think that still counts as a happy ending."

"Half a happy ending."

"Yeah," she agreed. "I'm Reyna. What's your name?"

"Maggie," said the woman. "You're the runaway princess."

It wasn't a question. Everyone in the castle knew.

"Not much of a princess now," she said despairingly. "Why are you here, Maggie?"

"Your brother would give a better answer," Maggie replied, sounding surprisingly relaxed. "They took me and my sisters."

"For what crime?"

"Awful ones."

"Like murder?"

"I wish."

Reyna didn't know what that meant. She looked over to Mick and saw that he'd fallen asleep. She guessed she should save her energy for whatever her brother had in store for her tomorrow. But curiosity got her wide awake.

"Where are your sisters?"

"In a better place, I hope," Maggie answered. There was no sign of sadness or fear in her voice. It was like they were having a normal conversation about the weather. "Why are you here?"

Reyna hadn't expected to be asked any question, so it took her a moment to be able to answer. "Because I'm not a virgin anymore."

"Really?" Maggie let out a faint laugh, from which Reyna imagined Maggie as a young girl, the same age as her. "Stupid men. They think they have rights over our bodies."

"Maybe I deserved it." Reyna didn't know where that'd come from. Those were probably the words she hadn't been brave enough to say. "I-I made a precarious choice."

There was a long moment of silence. She guessed Maggie wasn't interested in her personal stories. But then Maggie said, "That baby is in for big trouble."

Reyna felt as if a string inside of her was pulled. "What baby?"

"The one you're thinking about. The one you're afraid to have."

Was it so obvious? People just looked at her and knew what she was thinking about? But Maggie wasn't even looking at her. So how–

"What would you name him?"

Him? Reyna shuddered. "My...my mother didn't have a baby the first time–"

"But you already have the name," Maggie asserted as if she'd been living in Reyna's head. "You've thought of it."

"I don't know what you're–"

"Edward."

Like his father's father.

Reyna was panting now. She got on her knees and stuck her face between two bars, trying to look into the shadow to see this person she was talking to. Who was this Maggie? Was she a mind-reader? How did she know Reyna had been fantasizing about the life and family she could have had with Rowan? When you were locked up in a tower for a week, you started to think of crazy things.

On the night they'd made love, she hadn't cared if she'd get pregnant, she'd wanted to be as close to him as she could. But now that she knew how cruel her brother could be, she felt like a fool. Even if she got out of here and married Prince Kavan, she wouldn't ever escape Egon. He would always have something against her. He'd have her baby against her. So she hoped Edward didn't exist.

"Who are you, Maggie?" she finally asked. "Show your face."

There was something moving in the shadow of Maggie's cell. And everything fell back to silence.