The Way We Fall

Chapter 111 (Roche)

TW: Mentions of dismembered body parts

Roche's mind was a flurry of unsavoury thoughts. She'd awoken in the morning with the images of last night's attack seared into her mind. She couldn't shake the thought of Tigris among the victims. Verita was still searching for what creature was involved and Roche had no idea how to protect the princess from this new inkblood threat. It didn't help that the king expected Tigris to be on patrol tonight when the creature might be prowling.

When Roche tried to move her mind to less depressing and gruesome matters, she found her thoughts drifting to Medea. Her stomach squirmed like a nest of vipers at the thought of the other inkblood in the castle. She felt like she'd ruined everything with the attempted kiss. Medea was the only other person with inkblood who wasn't actively trying to kill the princess. She was smart, witty, and had a unique kind of outlook on life that Roche craved. Roche had fumbled a chance at a great friendship.

She tried to tell herself that it didn't matter as she crept into the tunnel in the morning, pastries in hand. She told herself that she needed to set her feelings aside and protect this marvelous woman because she deserved safety and happiness and love that didn't come from Roche after everything she'd been through. Roche told herself all that and more as she stood in the mouth of the tunnel, freezing as her eyes snagged on Medea's sleeping form.

Her throat tightened up at the sight of the woman. Roche suddenly found that she wasn't hungry anymore. She doled out a hefty portion to Medea with a note saying that she would be back. Roche knew she couldn't hide forever from the muddled feelings between them, but she needed a few more hours to gather her thoughts and feelings. She took the remaining pastries that she no longer had an appetite for and headed for the stables to feed her favourite horse as she gathered her thoughts.

She had just mustered up the nerve to face Medea again when the princess came and distracted her, banishing her off to work. All the castle servants were called to clean up the mess of corpses in the courtyard.

So Roche found herself mulling over Medea as she scooped up petrified chunks of flesh and bone fragments into a rubber lined burlap sack, trying not to cringe. Even if the bodies had been turned to stone, their mangled expressions of terror made her swallow bile. Roche recalled Sir Osborne begging not to die from inkblood with a sour twist of her stomach. This use of inkblood was absolutely the opposite of what it should be used for.

"Need another sack?" one of the kitchen maids, Bruta, asked. She was often found butchering meat for Cook, cleaving through bones of deer and other hardy game with ease. Many were scared of the gruff, broad shouldered woman, but she was kind enough to Roche.

"Yes, please," Roche replied gratefully, tying off her bag of stone limbs. She tripped over something squishy as she reached for the bag Bruta held out, doing a double take when she noticed the unpetrified head of Sir Osborne.

"Oh, don't touch that. The princess wants it burned to ashes for his family." Bruta told her, turning away with a sad shake of her head, "Pity. He was such a young lad. His wife's heartbroken."

Roche swallowed back tears. "Poor thing." she mumbled. This use of inkblood was egregious.

Bruta hummed in agreement and turned away, joining another servant boy who was staring at a petrified finger with just a bit too much interest. Roche turned back to the severed head, dark thoughts filling her mind, like what she'd do if that head had been Tigris'. An even colder, more terrified part of her mind wondered what she'd do if that head had been Medea's.

Roche's eyes burned. She turned away, scooping Sir Osborne's petrified body into the sack as her thoughts began to settle for the first time in hours.

If it had been Medea who had died in the attack, Roche wouldn't be able to forgive herself for everything she'd left unsaid. So, Roche finished up her work quickly and darted back into the castle to steal Medea's lunch from Tigris.