The Crowned Destiny

Ch. 5: Trust and Deception

I awaken to the muffled sound of heated arguments echoing in the darkness. Blinking against the dim light, I find myself lying against iron bars, clutching Aza's hand tightly. The scene before me resembles a dungeon, a realization that only adds to my confusion.

"Can't you get us out of here?" I whisper urgently to Aza, trying not to attract attention. She traces a pattern in the air, but nothing changes.

"This place truly has Prismarine gems," Aza remarks with disappointment, her voice tinged with frustration. "Rare and powerful—they can nullify a witch's magic."

"Who put them in the cells?" a man's voice resonates down the corridor, smooth yet chilling, sending shivers down my spine.

"We did, sir," a woman replies proudly, her voice echoing familiarity from the previous night.

"I am dealing with idiots," the man's tone turns venomous, causing me to instinctively flinch, though his anger isn't aimed at me.

"How are we supposed to get her help if you two lock her in a damn cell?" The man's voice rises in frustration. Could he be referring to me? Surely not—I'm less than ordinary. It must be Aza he's talking about. Where exactly am I? Are these the people my father warned me about, the ones who got to my mother?

"Don't you mean them?" another woman corrects him sharply, her voice unfamiliar to me.

"That's what I said," the man retorts, his melodious yet threatening voice growing nearer. My heart races, a mix of fear and inexplicable excitement flooding through me. No, it must be fear.

Hasty footsteps approach, the sound echoing loudly in the confined space. I steal a glance at Aza; her demeanor shifts briefly, a flicker of amusement before a mask of composure settles over her features. She seems far less shaken than I am. That's unsettlingly peculiar.

A silhouette approaches, tall and lean. As he steps into view, something about him strikes a chord of familiarity that I can't quite grasp. He's undeniably handsome, with lightly tanned skin and hair that transitions from a pale green at the front to a darker shade towards the back, like the depths of the sea. His monolid turquoise eyes lock onto mine, his thin lips curling into an amused smirk that sends a shiver down my spine. He carries the scent of fresh rain and saltwater, strangely soothing.

Wait—could we be near the ocean? Could this be Caspian, the one responsible for bringing me here? Questions swirl in my mind about where I am and why. I must tread carefully. Are these the people who took my mother's life? Despite his youthful appearance, I remind myself that looks can be deceiving in our world of slow aging. My father has ruled for centuries, yet appears no older than his forties.

"Welcome to the rebellion, Princess," Caspian announces with a hint of pride, though his voice also carries a note of apology for the rough introduction. "I'm sorry for the confusion. We'll be escorting you and Aza to your new quarters."

The word "rebellion" sends a chill through me. Oh no. Mom! Fear tightens my chest, making it hard to breathe as my fears are confirmed.

"I know where your thoughts are going, but it's not true," Aza interjects quietly, her thumb soothingly tracing circles on my hand. How could she possibly know? I try to collect myself with deep breaths as Caspian turns his attention to her. The scent of rain and sea envelops me, strangely calming my nerves.

"How would you know? Were you there that night?" I demand of Aza before shifting my gaze back to Caspian. His confusion about my accusation disgusts me. How many vile deeds has his organization committed for him to be so oblivious?

"A decade ago, the king announced that the rebellion had taken out Queen Cassey," Aza explains evenly, meeting Caspian's gaze with confidence. Is she connected to them somehow? Does she know something I don't? His expression softens as he glances back at me.