The Witch's Cursed Daughter

25. Romile's Past: III

Once again conscious in the windowless, comfortably lavish cell, Romile stretched and rolled his limbs, searching for pain or wounds. He found nothing hurt or out-of-place. Since there was no clear way of telling what time it was, Romile convinced himself that he was not hungry. Despite this, the rumbling sounds presented by his stomach remained a haughty companion until the door rattled on its hinges.

Unlike the last time, there was no warning of footsteps or various locks sounding with the promise of a visitor. Instinctively, Romile launched himself from the bed and crouched at its foot in the final moment before the door and surrounding wall quietly collapsed, rendering the door's lock's existence void. Romile coughed violently as the room filled with dust and rubble. Struggling to open his eyes, he could make out the frame of a short knight.

"Thank you," Romile called through the murky air.

"Don't mention it," a familiar voice stopped him from awkwardly clambering towards the exit. "I never dreamed I would have to rescue my own Guard."

Navigating the mess of brick and debris, Romile found the second prince waiting for him. The young prince was wearing a knight uniform, armour, and cloak; the helmet seemed to have been adjusted to his size at the last minute and appeared rather feeble in its construction.

"Your Highness, why are you here?" Romile asked, patting down the freckles of grime that now decorated his clothes.

"Rescuing you," the second prince nonchalantly replied.

As his eyes widened in disbelief, Romile brought his hand up to his face. Thinking back, he had never shared any conversations with the prince outside of recent events; his sudden rescue confused him more than the kidnapping did.

Sighing, he said, "I appreciate the thought, Your Highness; however, this could be taken as an attack against the princess."

"Well, she did attack first, and this time she tried to steal my Guard, so fair's fair." The second prince grinned and began using his trousers to remove drying blood from his sword. Romile had not looked before out of shock but breaking the wall would have required a lot of strength and technique. Glancing at the blade, he noticed it was very similar to his own, a Blade Master's sword. "Are you prepared to fight your way out?" asked the young prince.

Romile realised that this prince was worth much more than he was letting on. Coming to rescue a subordinate who you barely know is the sign of either a competent leader or a fool. Lowering his head, Romile came to a decision, "Of course, I'm at your command, Your Highness."

Following closely behind the prince, Romile was stunned by the complexity of the monotonous, austere passageways. He asked the prince how he knew the way, but all he got in response was silence. After a short while, the two emerged into a large hall with two open ends that led into a garden. Marble floors and pillars contrasted the bare corridor steps away. Standing sweetly in the centre of the room was the princess, looking as breath-taking as always.

"Good day, little brother," she called lightly. Romile's gut twisted as if he expected the pain to come after she spoke. Watching the prince, Romile noticed that he was smiling back.

Sliding his sword into its sheath on his hip, the second prince stepped forward, "It's an honour that you have come in person, sister. Please don't think I'm rude; I merely want to take back what is mine."

"I understand, but you see, I have taken quite a liking to Romile. I would much rather he stayed with me." As the princess spoke, guards poured into the room, staying back out of the way with swords at the ready. She then turned and flashed a cat-like grin, "What do you think, Romile?"

The look behind her bright, green eyes felt unsafe. Romile's mind danced with the option of surrendering to protect the prince and being held within her grasp. Finally, he responded, "As I have said from the start, Princess, I have no intention of leaving His Highness's side."

Rejected, the princess bit her lip softly. "That is a pity," she whispered. In the next instant, Romile found himself on his knees, unable to move as agony singed into his bones.

Through the muffled pounding in his ears, Romile heard the prince scream, "Voster!"