make me remember.

ten

"she's late." graham's words are strained as he's stretched as far as he possible can to move close to my ear. "she's never late." he adds before somewhat casually moving back, readjusting his jacket.
i glance in his direction before focusing back on the 'guests' in front of us. i wouldn't exactly call them guests, my sister surely wouldn't, but prisoners seems a bit macabre.

"she's not coming." bexley, on the other side of me, suddenly states. she doesn't seem to take the caution of whispering it, instead she takes in a deep breath before turning her gaze towards me. "she's never late." she adds, just as clear and loud as before.

"exactly!" graham calls out, but pauses as he receives my stare and covers his words with a delayed cough. i roll my eyes, closing my eyes for a moment. she was the one that asked for them. none of us agreed that this should be our approach to the situation, and yet, i'm the one whose stuck in a room with them all.

five chairs have been placed in the space, side by side, each of them sat on one. against my recommendation, their hands are tied to each other and not to the chairs. if they wanted to escape, simply getting up from their seat would do the trick. it shows either trust in the five of them or stupidity, and i can't seem to land on either one.
in my sister's defence, however, i must say, they all look terrible. thin, as least more than before, tanner and in illium's case, sunburned. overall tiredness, perhaps from their current situation or their long trip here, is quite clear on all of their faces.

"she requested them here, not us." bexley continues but this time, the words are spoken with a frustrated sigh at the end. "why the hell are we the ones they are stuck with them?"
at her words, illium frowns. she looks up, confusion smeared on her face but she doesn't speak. in fact, none of them have spoken since we entered. they've looked at us, followed along with our conversations but none of them have said a word themselves.

"what have you been told about your presence here?"

my question seems to throw them off slightly but they recover quickly. north is the one to answer, and he does so by looking up and meeting my eyes which doesn't surprise me all too much. even thin, dirty and slightly fearful, he seems relaxed enough to look comfortable, if not confident.
"we were told we were being returned to the castle," he says. "for what exact reasons, unclear."
i nod along, glancing over to bexley who clearly rolls her eyes with a scoff at his usage of the word returned.
"you'll be shipped back as soon as possible, believe me." even my stare doesn't stop her from talking over herself.
"bexley." i snap, keeping my stare straight. she's frustrated, we all are, but we should remain controlled. "my sister seems to believe that you can prove useful in an arisen situation."
"what kind of situation?" the first words and perhaps even movement from ilium is a softly spoken question. her voice is fragile, low as she speaks.
it takes a moment for anyone to answer her, perhaps because none of us know quite what we're allowed to say. probably more because none of us are truly know the answer to her question.
bexley is the one who decides to try. "a houldn't we just-"

i seem to remember a pause of silence between the shift. the change from a stressed but low conversation to the complete chaos that erupts a moment later. thinking back on it, however, i don't know how it could have been. bexley is interrupted as the door to the office is barged open. actually, the door is ripped completely off it's hinges.
multiple men, armed and dressed in black protective gear from top to toe push their way into the room. on their shared uniform they are wear the directions sign, the arrow pointing to the north, informing us that they are northern guards.
it doesn't do much to calm the sudden chock and horror that comes with being invaded by armed guards.
behind them all, barlas stepped forward, dressed similar to his soldiers but his higher rank is clear in the way they make way for him to enter. the men spread through the room, pointing their weapons downwards as they take a stand, awaiting further instructions.
"we're under attack. rebels have penetrated the castle walls. we've evacuated the entire top wing, and to my surprise, all of our high standing positions were missing from their usual quarters." despite his joke, he isn't smiling. we are all in the lower quarters, where as usually we would be in the higher ones that are safer for us. protocol, under any dangerous situation, is to evacuate those levels first.
"what the hell is going on, barlas?" i stand up straighter, expecting him to say that the building structure has been damaged in places, that staff or soldiers have been injured. i expect him to tell us the basis of the situation, but that isn't what he says at all. instead, what he says, leave the world surrounding standing completely still.

"the queen is dead."