Just Like Old Times

The door was unlocked and shut behind Jo, who wasted no time to close her arms around Reyna. It was the first hug Reyna had had in three weeks and she hadn't known how much she needed it until now. She was disappointed when Jo released her and gripped her shoulders to look her up and down.

"Oh, Reyn..." cried Jo. "You're too thin and weak. What have they done to you?"

"I'm fine." Reyna smiled despite herself.

"No whispering!" the guard warned them.

Jo rolled her eyes and shot him a glare over her shoulder before turning back to Reyna, her reassuring smile reappearing. "I was so worried about you," she said loud enough for the guard to hear. "What happened? Did that thief–"

"He's not a thief! He saved my life!"

Jo's eyes went round, apparently not expecting Reyna to get so defensive. Reyna felt her cheeks growing hot as she dropped her gaze to their feet. To her surprise, Jo squeezed her hands and pressed a kiss to each one. "I'm sorry for everything, Reyn. I was so stupid and selfish. If something had happened to you, I would never forgive myself–"

"It's all right," Reyna cut her off, raising a small smile. "I don't blame you, Jo. At this point, I'm just glad to have at least one person on my side..." Her eyebrows lifted. "You are...on my side, right?"

"Of course I am." Jo snuck a glance at the guard, whose back was turned to them. "If something bad happens to me, I want yours to be the last face I see, Reyn..."

Reyna felt a twitch in her stomach as Jo's eyes shone with new tears. Jo clutched Reyna's fingers tighter against her chest, warming Reyna's icy palm with the heat of her skin. "I'm glad you're home."

Reyna almost said Isolde didn't feel like home anymore, but she saw a glimpse of hope in Jo's eyes and remained silent. Did Jo also know Reyna was here on a 'mission'? Did Jo know about the prophecy?

"I have to go now." Jo exhaled with frustration and tucked a lock of hair behind Reyna's ear. After everything Reyna had endured, even that faint touch could make her flinch. Jo wasn't going to hurt her, but at this point, she felt like everyone was capable of it. "His Majesty will have you returned to your chambers to get you ready."

"For what?"

"Prince Kavan and his retinue have arrived."

Reyna's chest throbbed at the news. "So early?"

Jo pursed her lips, her forehead creased.

Before Reyna could say another word, Jo's mouth was pressed against hers. The kiss was so sudden she didn't have a chance to react, so she stood there stiff as a rock until the guard cleared his throat to interrupt them.

"Under your pillow," Jo murmured against her lips, released her hands slowly, and with a longing look, ducked out of the cell.

It was only when Reyna heard the heavy metal door fell shut that she snapped out of the daze. She'd been too stunned to realize Jo had slipped a folded piece of paper into her hand.

She glanced over at the opposite cell. There was only darkness. She called out for Maggie and received no answer. Once again she wondered if Maggie had been a trick of her messed up mind. Perhaps she'd gone crazy.

Crazy or not. This note Jo had given her was real.

She retreated to the back corner of her own cell and sat facing the wall as she unfolded the piece of paper, her heart pounding eagerly.

It was a letter. She recognized the handwriting.

A letter from her father.

Her stomach knotted.

She closed her eyes, steadying her frantic breathing to prepare herself for whatever she was about to find out. She didn't know how Jo had got this or why her father had given this to Jo, but these would be his last unspoken words.

How could Reyna ever live with herself if he blamed her for his death and all the misery caused by her disappearing?

No. She couldn't be a coward anymore.

She had to face her fear.

She had to face reality.

She breathed out through her mouth, and with trembling hands, held up the letter toward the dim light from outside her cell.

Dear daughter of mine,

As I was writing this letter, you'd been gone for two weeks. There had not been a day when I didn't regret the last words I'd said to you. If those words had sent you away from me, I wish to take them all back.

After your mother had passed away, I had resented you for reminding me of her. I had resented Fate and Time for being against us. I had resented your mother for leaving me alone. She'd been the only one who'd loved me and I had also resented her for it. For a time, I'd thought love would make you weak, so I'd taken that away from you and Egon, but now, lying in my deathbed, I realized I would have been dead if it hadn't been for the love I had for you, if it hadn't been for the determination of seeing you again to apologize for all I'd done.

Egon might be a great swordsman but he's no ruler. He's insolent and reckless. I saw myself in him more than I did in you, which is why he is not fit for the throne and the crown. This kingdom had suffered during my reign. What it needs is a ruler as kind and compassionate and wise as your mother. I wanted you to marry Kavan Gennady because I was afraid of putting a woman on a throne, so if you were to be Queen, you needed a King. But being close to death had helped me grow wiser. Your mother and I had married for love, and it wouldn't be fair to take that away from you. Should you come back, let it be known I choose you as my rightful heir and you shall be the Queen of Theros and marry whoever you choose.

I'm sorry if I cannot be here when you return. Sometimes I saw Death in my dreams. He wore a dark cloak, ready to take me, but then he didn't, and I woke up, disappointed. Sometimes I saw your mother; she was just as beautiful as I remembered. She dressed in white, radiating holy light like an angel, and she was your age when you ran away. Eighteen. Maybe when we die, we'll get to live in the happiest moment of our lives forever. For me, it was the afternoon by the Vidarr River where I met your mother for the first time.

Don't shed a tear for me, daughter. I have reunited with her on the riverbank.

Your Father,

Willem.

Tears were flowing down Reyna's cheeks as she muffled her crying by biting into her arm. She contemplated the letter as if all the words would soon evaporate and she was trying to remember as much as she could. She never thought it would come to this. Would anything go wrong had she not run away? Would her father still be alive?

Stop crying. Stop it!

She wiped away her tears, folded the letter and tucked it into her left boot. She caught her breath and stared at the ceiling until her face was dry.

This was good. This was really good. Now she knew she was the rightful heir to the throne, she must take back what belonged to her.

"You are goodness," she heard Maggie say, but as she turned around, there was no movement in the other cell.

She got up to retrieve the food. She must eat. And before the guard came to take her away, she must come up with a plan.

.

.

.

A few hours later, Reyna was released and escorted back to her chambers where the maids put her in a fine red gown made from high-quality velvet fabric with golden baroque damask and lace trim. A number of pearls and jewels were sewn into the dress as a clear indication of her regal link. She stood in front of the full-length mirror, her hair braided into a high bun, her lips painted red to match the shade of her gown. She straightened and laced her hands together in front of her full skirt as Aleia stepped onto the carpeted steps to place a diamond crown on top of her head. The image of her old crown slipping through her fingers and falling into the eternal abyss sent a shiver down her spine. She shook off the tension, lifting her chin and staring back at her own reflection.

For the first time in her life, she dared to picture herself wearing the monarch crown.

"Shall we go, Your Highness?"

Reyna gave a gentle dip of her chin and placed her hand on top of Aleia's to ascend the stairs and sauntered toward the doors. It was hard to keep every step soft and light when the dress, the jewellery and the crown were weighing her down. She hoped it wouldn't cause trouble for her plan.

The letter was in her left boot and the dagger in her other. She'd told the maid that her feet had been sore and so she'd refused to switch to a nice pair of shoes. Jo must have stolen Reyna's dagger from the guard who'd confiscated it and placed it under Reyna's pillow for her to find when she returned.

Reyna didn't know how Jo had managed to do it, but then she remembered that Jo was carrying Egon's child and therefore must have been close to Egon enough to know her way around the castle. That was another reason for her to doubt where Jo's loyalty lay. For all she knew, this could be a trap.

But what other choice did she have?

She must take the risk and go through with this.

If her head fell in the throne room in front of Isolde court, at least there would be rhymes and songs about her.

"May I present to you, my lords and ladies, Princess Reyna Callisto," proclaimed a footman as two guards opened the doors and all eyes in the throne room fell on Reyna and her extravagant dress.

Egon was sitting on the throne, his chin in his hand, his forefinger tapping his pursed lips as he watched her make her way down the aisle. He seemed pleased that she hadn't shown up looking like the corpse he'd thrown into the dungeon.

Holding his stare, she marched as gracefully as she could manage and stopped in front of the steps leading up to her brother's throne. The guards who had escorted her from her chambers quickly returned to their posts on either side of the aisle. She curtsied to the King while turning a deaf ear to the whisperings of the courtiers, before this day, most of whom had probably thought she'd been dead.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Jo standing among the courtiers. Jo thinned her lips and gave Reyna a subtle nod.

Egon raised a hand and cleared his throat, sending the whole room to silence. "My dear friends from the West," he proclaimed. "My sister, Reyna."

Kavan Gennady and his retinue were standing on the right side of the steps to the throne. The last time Reyna had seen the Prince, he'd been on his knees between Jo's legs.

She could never erase that scene from her memory, and the idea of her marrying this Prince made her stomach churn with disgust. Still, she plastered a smile on her face and curtsied to him.

His mouth was set in a firm thin line as he bowed back, and she could see the pain from the way he sized her up. She decided not to take it personally. She knew what she'd done, and even though it wasn't pleasant to be perceived as the royal whore, she did not regret or feel guilty about it, not even a little.

"We have met before, Princess," Kavan said as he made his way toward her, took her fingers in his and brushed his lips against the back of her hand. "Although we started off on a wrong foot," he said quietly, "I hope we can work through our differences when we're officially man and wife."

She opened her mouth, about to give a politically acceptable reply when a member of the Prince's retinue cleared his throat and seized everyone's attention.

Kavan whipped his head around and scowled at the man dressed entirely in black, who was smirking as if his appearance hadn't already distinguished him from the rest of the Prince's escorts. He was tall, pale, and handsome, with a sharp jawline and hair as black as a raven's feather.

The danger in his eyes as they met Reyna's made her heart waver. As if he knew all her secrets. As if he knew she was carrying a weapon in her boot. As if he knew she would commit treason.

No.

As if he was the one who would commit treason.

"My half-brother, Lance Devany. He's my father's bastard," Kavan said with a conceited wave of his hand, and laughter burst from the courtiers.

Reyna's eyes fastened on Lance. She assumed he'd be humiliated by the introduction, however, the smile didn't falter on his good-looking face.

"A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness," he said, fixing Reyna with his wicked eyes. "I hope we could be great allies."

Something about his airy tone informed her that an alliance through her marriage with his brother wasn't what he implied. She heard her brother say something about a tea party in the West wing, but she couldn't take her eyes off Lance, who caught her stare and gave her a wink.

Maybe he was just flirty. Maybe she was being too cautious. Maybe...

At this point, she could not be careless. There should be no maybe.

She averted her eyes from Lance, a blush creeping up to her ears. She wasn't swayed by his looks. A handsome face was the least of her concern now that her whole life was at risk. She quickly searched for Jo, who maintained the same indifferent expression as she inclined her head as if asking a question.

Kavan was busy chatting with Egon's Lord Chancellor while the courtiers started piling out of the throne room. As usual, the King would be the last to leave.

Reyna eyed Jo and lifted the hem of her dress just enough to reveal her ugly riding boots. She knew Jo would figure it out.

Jo, who had helped her get dressed and sneak her out of the castle for secret sword training outside the woods.

Jo, who had retrieved her dagger and put it under her pillow.

Jo, whom her father had trusted with that letter.

Jo, who had shown her loyalty by bringing the letter to her.

Jo had been waiting for this moment to make it right.

Jo gave a slight nod in response to the question Reyna didn't need to ask. Egon breezed right past them, followed by two guards and laughing at a joke Kavan had told. Reyna swallowed hard as she pretended to follow. Halfway to the double doors, she pretended to trip on her dress and fall headfirst to the floor, sinking into the red cloud of her full skirt. Her fingers slipped fast into her boot and secured around the dagger.

"Princess, are you all right?" Jo rushed straight to her side. Before anyone else could react, Reyna locked an arm around Jo's chest and held the sharp blade to her throat. A scream or two tore through the disturbance.

"Stay back!" Reyna hissed, catching a flash of horror on her brother's face as he whisked his finger, motioning for his men to back away from her.

Egon then held up his hands and slowly took a step forward. Reyna pressed the blade harder into Jo's neck, just not enough to draw blood. "One more step and I'll rip your child from her belly."

"You're not going to kill her," he ventured, hands still in the air.

"I killed the Commander, whom I'd known my whole life. I slit his throat." A few gasps broke from the courtiers. Someone was sobbing. Reyna's eyes were fixed on Egon. "Don't test me, Egon. You know what I'm capable of."

"What do you want?" His voice was dangerously calm.

"A sword."

Egon nodded his head toward one of the guards, who took the order and stepped forward. Something didn't feel right. Reyna raised her dagger to strike, but she wasn't fast enough. The guard thrust his sword straight into Jo's stomach. For a second, the world seemed to stop. Then, the room exploded with screams and clunking of armours and Jo collapsed, bringing Reyna down on her knees. Her hair tumbling out of her braids. Her crown fell to the floor. Her ears buzzed and her hands trembled as she tried to stop the blood oozing out of her friend's body. It was too much, and she was too late.

"Jo...no...Jo!" she roared and wept. Her chest threatened to crack open. Her breathing came rough. Her whole body was on fire. The rest of the world faded away, and if someone stabbed her now, she still would not care. She was crying so hard her vision blurred. Jo brushed a bloody thumb across her cheek, and the words rang in Reyna's ears. If something bad happens to me, I want yours to be the last face I see, Reyn.

With a faint smile, Jo was gone.

Reyna was shaking with rage, her fingers still tightened around her dagger as she felt the coolness of the tip of the sword at her throat and tilted her head up, clenching her jaw so hard her teeth went numb.

She had underestimated Egon. She'd known he was cruel, but she'd had no idea how far he could go. She hadn't got to see his monster in its true form. She'd paid for her negligence with two innocent lives.

Now Egon was holding the sword, grinning down at her. "Why are you crying? I did you a favour, didn't I?"

"You killed your child!" she barked at him, hot tears biting her cheeks.

"It would be a bastard anyway. I could make ten others." He sneered before turning to his guards. "Grab her."

Two men were just about to march forward when another scream froze them to the spot. All turned their heads just in time Kavan's dead body tumbled to its knees and then sprawled across the floor in a pool of fresh blood. The panic Egon was trying to hide was etched on his face.

Reyna didn't know who had killed the Prince of Attwell, but she didn't care. This was her fight.

She drew her dagger and sliced Egon's right calf, and as he shrieked and fell to the floor, she snatched his sword before the guards could grab her. She held the sword in front of her with one hand, the other using the dagger to rip her skirt, making it short enough for her to move more easily. Having been in a disadvantaged position, she hadn't crippled Egon for good with that wound. He managed to get up from the floor despite blood soaking through his white trousers, his eyes darkened at her like a predator to its prey.

She was ready to fight when she saw that the Attwell guards were also pointing their swords at her brother. Her gaze skipped to her left where stood the Bastard Prince, his head inclined, his shiny blade dripping with his brother's blood. He shot her a sharp look and his previous words echoed in her head.

I hope we could be great allies.

.

.

.

Two Isolde guards grabbed Egon, twisted his arms behind his back and forced him down onto his knees. Another one stabbed Jo's murderer from behind. His body stumbled forward before collapsing right beside Jo's. Dead. More screams erupted from the crowd of courtiers, but all Reyna could hear was the thundering of her own heart.

These weren't Isolde guards; they were Attwell's men in disguise. And this was all a part of the Bastard Prince's plan to assassinate his brother and soon, Egon. If that was the case, then there was no chance for Reyna to walk out of here alive.

"The throne room has been secured by Attwell guards," Lance announced, taking in every frightened face before his grey eyes stopped at Reyna once again. "We are here for the tyrant and the rescue of Princess Reyna. I'm going to free you from tyranny, not imprison you. Those who are innocent shall not be harmed. Unless you try to defy us."

Catching her breath, Reyna narrowed her eyes at him to silently question, 'Why?'

Lance seemed to understand and yet did not answer. "Kill him."

"Stop!" Reyna shouted. All eyes fell on her. Lance was frozen in his spot though there was no sign of astonishment on his face. She couldn't figure out why such a kind-looking prince could murder his brother cold-bloodedly. But she could not criticize him for something she also would have done.

With all her courage, she marched toward Lance. His guards reached for their weapons, but he raised a hand for them to stay back and let her approach. She stood an arm's length away from the prince, her voice lowered, "You are not going to kill my brother in our home."

"I just saved your life, Princess," Lance said coolly.

Reyna let out a mirthless laugh. "Don't expect me to thank you. You are no better than him if you saved my life only to take my father's throne."

Lance considered her, his voice steady, "I'm here to kill the tyrant. I do not wish to hurt you."

"Really?" Reyna challenged. "Not even when I'm standing between you and my crown?"

The question had captured Lance's full attention. His eyes squinted as though to ask her to explain. She lifted her chin and bent down to take the letter out of her boot. "This is my father's letter," she said, "in which he stated that I shall be the new ruler of Isolde. So if you want the crown, you'll have to kill me."

Lance didn't speak. Reyna then beckoned to the Lord Chancellor who was trembling in the corner. "Lord Chancellor Callahan, would you please read this letter and confirm that it is from my father?"

"Y-Yes, Your Highness," the old man said as he accepted the folded piece of paper with both hands.

The atmosphere in the throne room became heavy as the Lord Chancellor scrutinized King Willem's letter. The stench of fresh blood hung in the air, sickening Reyna. She gripped her sword-hilt and refused to acknowledge Jo's dead body lying on the floor. She would avenge her loyal friend. Even if it cost Reyna her life.

"This is," proclaimed the Lord Chancellor, "indeed King Willem's handwriting and signature." The whisperings among the crowd grew louder. The old man stroked his beard as he looked over at Reyna. "That would make you the rightful heir to the throne, Princess Reyna."

When her eyes met Lance's once again, he composed and inclined his head. "Very well," he said. "Then I shall leave the fate of the tyrant in your hand, future Queen of Isolde. I would not break my promise of becoming your ally."

The indifference in his expression left her bewildered. Was he simply here to murder Egon and free the people of Isolde from her brother's tyranny? What was he? A living saint? It was unthinkable that he'd gone through all this trouble to plan this assassination just to hand the crown back to her.

What were his real motives?

She was about to ask when suddenly Egon, who had been silent this whole time, raised his voice.

"Cheers to you, little sister." He was smiling despite being held down by two Atwell's guards. "Are you going to kill me now? Put me out of my misery?" His tone was full of mockery. "Remember. You will never escape the fate of a Callisto. How do you think the people would react to their new Queen," his gaze jumped to Lance, "who's been assisted by the enemy to commit treason," then back to Reyna, "murdered her own brother and stolen the crown."

His words chilled her to the bone. She wished he would stop talking, but everything he said was based on facts.

"People won't care if you are the heir Father chose, Reyn. You are weak. You are not meant to rule. It won't be long until another one cast you down and our dynasty crumbles. If you believe in a prophecy told by a madwoman, then you are more a fool than a queen."

"You believe in the prophecy," she hissed, bending down to come face to face with her kneeling brother. "If you didn't, you wouldn't have kept Maggie alive after murdering her sisters. Admit it, Egon. You are afraid of me."

Egon did not waver. "Is that what you tell yourself at night?"

Reyna balled her free hand into a fist as she straightened. She felt the whole room watching as she motioned for a guard to hand her his sword. Lance was the first to realize what she intended to do.

"Princess, don't do it," he implored. "Just have him executed and take the crown."

She ignored him. He was, after all, a foreigner. She knew her people. They would never bend the knees if they couldn't see her as a ruler. Her father might have passed the crown onto her, but it was she who had to show the people she'd earned it rightfully.

She tossed the weapon onto the floor and it slid toward where her brother was being held. His head jerked up as he shot her a tentative look.

"We'll have a duel," she declared.

The crowd gasped.

"Princess–" the Lord Chancellor interjected, but she raised a hand to silence him, her eyes fixed on her brother, who couldn't seem more satisfied. She'd had him on his knees, but now she'd given him the chance to kill her.

"Just like Uncle and Father," she said.

"The winner takes Isolde," Egon stated.

"Not only Isolde." She shook her head. "But also the other's life."

"Princess, this is absurd!" Lance cried out and his men unintelligibly agreed.

Reyna cast him a pointed look. "I don't know who you are and why you're doing this, but I can condemn you for invading the nobility of the Isolde court. If you wish to preserve the alliance between your kingdom and mine, I suggest you do not speak up. This is our land. We go by our rules."

Lance didn't break their gaze, and Reyna found herself trying to convey through her eyes that she wanted him to trust her. He then released a heavy breath and ordered his men to release Egon.

"Pick up the sword," Reyna commanded. Her brother growled as he got up to his feet, almost losing balance on his wounded leg.

"With all due respect, Princess," spoke the Lord Chancellor. "King Egon is the best swordsman in the royal court. I cannot stand by and watch you risk your life now that you are the rightful ruler of Isolde. King Willem would not approve of this."

"If you accept me as your new ruler," Reyna said, "the first thing you should do is believe in me."

Her command silenced the Lord Chancellor. He reluctantly bowed and stepped back.

Wiping the blade with his sleeve, Egon said, "It's not fair that you're requesting a duel with a wounded man, sister."

"You're wounded. I'm wearing a dress. We're both at a disadvantage, aren't we?" She cocked her head. "Now, should we take this outside?"

"It's snowing," Egon said.

"Good," Reyna replied. "Just like old times."