For Our Fates // A Crown The Empire Fanfiction

Andrew - 8

I lightly reach for Sam's hand; calmly holding it in my embrace. She looks up at me with the eyes of a lamb; green and curious. I send a sly smirk back to her, than continue to walk down the dock.

Me and Bennett have finally made it across the lake and to the Capital's harbor. From here, we will walk a few blocks to reach the Symphony Hall; to bluntly discuss the bizarre sight of outsider threats. Me and Bennett are just in hope that Hayden will make it here on the dot.

We have canceled our plans of discussing Miss Grey's fate. It's not that she isn't important; but this is just something that needs to be discussed urgently.

Bennett looks over to me. "Will some members of black be attending this meeting?"

"Hopefully not," I mumble,"I can't bare seeing David's face more than I need to."

Benn makes a fake chuckle; scratching the back of his neck as a distraction for his hands. We see the dome of the Symphony Hall about a quarter mile ahead; atop holding the flag of the White Empire. As we continue walking closer to the building, the flag soon began to slide off the pole.

"Well... Andrew, I guess that answers your question," Bennett tells me, pointing to the tip of the empty flag pole.

I scoff; stressing my shoulders in a tense manner as I watch the flag be replaced with yet another one. Yes, this new flag still beholds white; but a crow black cog has been placed in the middle.

"Yea..Whatever. Who has informed the Black Empire about the reissued meeting with the new location?" I question as I release Sam's hand from mines. We are now approaching the steps of the hall.

Benn pulls out his phone, searching for an email. "The United Empire Association has told Lord Escamilla, his Coworker Mr.Hoover, and his cabinet Mr.Taddie. The journalist of B.E.C.W. 32 has also been asked to attend. She's known as Cibabs, and is deeply politically involved."

"They've invited a Journalist? How informal and pathetic of them. This conference isn't necessarily meant to be public," I growl, clutching my first in anger.

"Come on Andrew. You know how News Anchors love their Republicans."

I lightly grab Sam's sides; motioning her to walk up the steps carefully. I didn't bother to reply to Benn. I feel like I'm more mad to the fact that I'm seeing David rather than some pointless journalist. If I were to continue with the conversation, it would only add wood to the flames. My flames.

"Stay here, Sam. The Symphony Hall's maidens should be attending you shortly to give you your paints. If you run into anything unusual, inform us immediately. Even if you have interrupt the meeting. Alright?" I tell her, laying my hands softly on her shoulders in comfort.

She nods her head up and down, smiling and exposing the small gap between her teeth. "Yes, father Andrew."

"Good girl," I tell her with a bittersweet grin as I pat her shoulder softly. Deep down inside, I was nervous leaving Sam alone out here. Word must have already spread about the executed girl from Black. They could hurt Sam becuase of this. They want an eye for an eye.

We are greeted by the guards; ones alike from the men at the gates. They get on their knees yet again showing their honor and respect. With their guns tight at their sides, begin to escort me and Bennett inside the hall. Leaving Sam, behind.

"I miss this theater. I feel like I haven't been here in ages," Benn murmurs to himself as he looks around in awe.

There are theater seats on the sides of the ceiling, and than hundreds of theater seats taking their place on the ground. In the center of this was a Chestnut stained stage; and atop of it was a beautifully arranged Orchestra Symphony. The women and men were all dressed in strict, formal uniform of white. They hold their string instruments with one hand, and their bows gracefully on the air as they await my cue.