The Witch's Cursed Daughter

51. Plans In Motion

When the following morning arrived, Romile was furious to discover the events of the previous day. As Voster narrated once again his account of Evianna's funeral, Julian worked hard to confine Romile to his position on the bed.

Anger spitting out as saliva, Romile hissed, "The princess goes too far, and in terms of her brother, I can't even begin to comprehend his actions." His body was wrecked; his back muscles remained twitching at all times without their skin to protect them. Looking to Julian, he said, "You're not thinking of accepting, are you?"

"I don't see what our options are," Julian replied from his oversized wingback chair by the fireplace. The cushions were so large that it looked like he may be swallowed into the creases.

"Not getting into a deal with the first prince is a good option," Romile almost screamed as he tried to turn, regret splicing into his wounds.

Holding his hand over Romile to ease his pain, without healing his wounds, Voster declared, "I agree with Romile, Your Highness."

"I thought you wanted to find Evianna," Julian expressed, confused by Voster's aversion despite the advantages of the first prince's deal.

"I do," Voster agreed. Taking a moment, the Mage focussed on his words, ignoring the thundering sounds of the rain that had continued all night. "I just don't think this is the right way to go about it, Your Highness," he sighed.

Hesitant, Julian looked at his Guard and Mage. The pair were devoted to his interests, and Julian could understand their apprehension when faced with the uncertainty of the first prince. He, himself, did not believe that his half-brother could be trusted.

Running his hand through the stale sweat in his night-dyed hair, he said, "I respect both of your opinions."

"But you are not going to listen, are you?" Romile groaned sarcastically.

"Probably not," laughed Julian, "I promise not to be rash, although I have to hear him out."

Drawing a line beneath the discussion, the boys relaxed into silence. Sounds of the crackling fireplace filled the room, competing with the strong aromatic scent of blood in a bombardment of the senses. Frustrated by the eerie sonata of sensory overload, Voster called the others to attention.

"Your Highness, I have one more piece of information which I didn't share yesterday."

"What is it?" Julian queried, adjusting himself in his chair to listen.

"The first prince is a Blade Master," Voster professed.

Alerted by the severe expression on Voster's face, Julian sprang from his seat, making his way over to the bed where Romile's mouth was gaping, his eyes continuously growing. "Are you sure?"

"Completely, his aura was unmistakeable," Voster nodded.

"That does complicate matters significantly," Romile admitted.

"At least we are at an advantage," Julian encouraged, clapping his hands, "our group consists of two Blade Masters."

"Although, neither of us is in any state to live up to that honour right now," Romile responded. "Also, it is not known that you hold that title."

"Well, that can be said for the first prince as well, but it makes sense when you consider how long he spent trying to survive on battlefielsa when he was young" Julian grinned.

With the hearth and the weather shrieking, the quiet room seemed just as busy as with conversation. Voster once again filled the dell in communication.

"Your Highness, I suggest that we retire to the Mirrored Hall for the duration of your confinement. Time will pass by faster, and the residential magic will enhance your ability to heal. Technically I would not be the one healing you."

Julian grinned at the Mage's sarcastic twist and was pleased with his suggestion. Looking down at Romile, Julian and Voster both felt a twinge of pity. Unlike Mages, a Blade Master's ability cannot be developed, only mastered; those skills were limited only to killing. This would mean that Romile's injuries would take at least two months two heal without magical assistance, three weeks with help.

Julian glanced to Romile, who simply replied, "I agree."

"Then it's settled."

Walking over to a desk at the far end of the room, Julian sifted through papers to find one unused before rummaging for a quill. The moment a feather touched his hand, he began to craft a letter addressed to the first prince. It read:

I have it in mind to accept, but first I would like to know your intentions. You should know we will not be leaving the palace, only entering my Mage's private space for the duration of our imprisonment.

- J

After Julian assisted Voster in readying Romile for travelling to the Mirrored Hall, the boys laughed as they prepared for their disappearance. Holding onto one another for support, Romile grimaced in agony as he hobbled; Julian grunted at the additional weight to his wounds, and Voster led them both slowly, concern washing away the amusement.

Before moving into the corridor towards the entrance to the Mirrored Hall, Julian announced to Loem, who had been summoned, where he would be, and how long his absence should be expected. Passing the note he crafted to one of the guards, he nodded meaningfully.

Turning his back, the boys headed down the corridor, disappearing through the door.