The Trials of Sybil

Chapter Nine

Aramis

Closing the door behind me, I lock it before tucking the key into my pocket. I selected a room on the third floor knowing the windows open to a steep hill and river running swiftly behind the building. Sybil would have to be utterly mad to try to escape. She's remained true to her word so far, but I'm not taking any chances. I chose one of my guards to sleep in the stables, where he can monitor the room's window.

"Tell me the news, Nero," I command when reaching him. I cross my arms over my chest, walking side-by-side with my captain of the guard and best friend.

"You've received a missive from the kingdom." He pulls a thick folded note from his pocket before handing it to me.

Grabbing the paper from him, I run my finger across the seal stamped into the golden wax. The symbol of a crescent moon with three stars and a sword thrust through it; our family crest. It is proudly adorned throughout the kingdom, from buttons to banners. Moving into a private dining room, I sit down in a chair before breaking the seal and running my eyes over the text.

Aramis,

Hasten your return delivering the prisoner.

The rebel shifters have attacked Larnwick. You are

to leave and deal with the rebels when you return.

-Queen Tricella

The paper crumples under my hands as I throw it at the fire. I slam a fist on the table, with frustration. The sound of my heartbeat fills my ears as I seethe in anger.

"Bad news, your majesty?" Nero inquires as he lifts an eyebrow in my direction.

"Don't be facetious, Nero." I push back from the table and begin pacing the room. "The queen requests we hasten our return to deliver her prisoner so that we can handle a rebel group that has attacked another village."

"Does she think we travel on magical flying horses?" He snorts. "Why doesn't she send some of her precious lackey's to do her bidding?"

At that moment, the pretty maid that assisted me earlier knocks on the door frame. She enters the room with a tray laden with food and two chilled mugs of ale. I think her name is Olivia, or perhaps Odetta? She's the daughter of the tavern's owners, but her constant advances towards me any time we paused for conversation grind on my last nerve. I am the prince of Shadowvale. She is a mere poor peasant–well beneath me. Her family should be grateful that we frequent their establishment at all.

Odetta–or whatever her name is, lays the tray onto the table, her bosom nearly spilling out of her neckline while unloading plates and ales in front of Nero. Finishing her task, she turns and curls a blonde lock around her finger as she peers at me through hooded eyes.

"Prince Aramis, if there is anything else I can be of–"

"Leave us." I cut her off. The last thing I need is another female complicating my evening. I sigh, seeing her fallen features, and pull a few gold coins from my pocket and hold them out to her. I may be an asshole sometimes, but that doesn't mean I have to be heartless. The maiden slips them between her breasts, a hint of a coy smirk curling at the corners of her lips. I wave dismissively towards the door. "See that my men get ale and food."

"Yes, your majesty. You need only call if there is anything else I can do to ease your evening." Her lips press into a thin line while curtseying, hips swaying exaggeratingly on her way out.

Nero lets out a low whistle and leans back in his chair. Taking a deep drag from his chilled mug, he nods toward the open door.

"That one is relentless." Nero beams. "It's unfortunate she's not my type." Setting down his mug, he grabs a chicken leg from his plate and takes a large bite.