She's a Rebel // Ben Finn x Princess

Chapter 17

The rain was pouring down in sheets, the puddles making the path to the castle gates more like an obstacle course than a stroll. The darkness provided a sound enough cover, for both our intriguing party and the horrific effect the rain had on my hair, but Logan still insisted on us being escorted by the first Albion guards we had found once entering Bowerstone. I had to admit that it made me feel safer, too. Since my brother was a stranger and Ben was reminiscing with a random soldier about some shared experience, I found myself admiring the architecture and beauty that was woven into the buildings in the market. Devoid of people, it was spookily eerie, but the clock tower was undeniably breathtaking bathed in moonlight. The bricks seemed to be made from the very history that surrounded it, a kind of energy charged in the foundations, echoes of times long gone. I wondered what our places in that history would be.

As we entered the castle gardens, I felt an atmosphere of unease settle over the three of us. My pity for Logan grew - he had been estranged from this place for 4 years. It was bound to bring back bad memories, if he had any memories left after the brainwashing he had undergone. I glanced at him, surreptitiously, but I didn't dare assume even part of the moisture on his face were tears. My own unease, however, wasn't prompted by my brother's past, or my brother at all for that matter, but instead the fur-clad figure standing, speaking animatedly, to one of the guards at the door. Fucking Reaver. I shared a look of annoyance with Ben before climbing the steps.

"Oh, what a joyous day it is!" Reaver called upon seeing us approach, opening his arms by way of greeting, with a smirk that implied his bad intentions before he had the chance to, "a royal sibling reunion, how utterly delightful. Prince Logan," with a tone was sharp enough to cut glass, he extended his hand towards my brother, who was quite unsuccessfully attempting to ignore him completely. "It is simply wonderful to see you again. And my dear Benjamin," Reaver turned to him, adopting an almost predatory stance, "you look well, considering."

"Thanks." Ben mumbled, side-stepping to forge a route to bypass the lunatic in front of him, but finding no path around.

"My Queen, I'm aware I am being a dreadful pain but I must insist on seeking an audience with you immediately," as his attention locked on me, I shivered. Reaver's message was never this direct; I opened my mouth to refuse but he continued, "Immediately, as in, within the next few seconds. I shan't take up too much of your precious time, I assure you."

I glanced around me, seeking an excuse out of spending even a second more with a man who had threatened my family - the only family I had and, coincidentally, the family I barely liked at this point - but found nothing. Logan had the air of someone queuing to take a roller-coaster, reluctant and nervous, while Ben was busy gazing into the shiny ball atop Reaver's cane. I sighed, before nodding regretfully and keeping my gaze on the golden-brick balcony floor so as not to witness the smile that I knew would be plastered on his face. I lead our unlikely gang into the foyer before turning to the nearest member of staff.

"I need you to find Gabriel, and tell him to make up a room for the Prince as soon as possible," I instructed, pushing my hair back. She nodded and bowed, before moving away to carry out my wishes. I turned to address Ben and Logan, both of whom seemed mildly uncomfortable to being in each other's presence. "Ben, take my brother to the dining room, get him some food. Don't," I pointed at Logan, almost accusatory, "you dare run off, alright? I won't be long."

"I'll make sure he won't, your majesty." Ben replied, smiling, taking my brother's arm and leading him away. I sighed, watching him leave for a moment before turning back to Reaver.

"Let's talk in the War Room." I told him, leading him up the stairs. He continued, in the way only Reaver could, talking nonsense. Every word he said was vapid and meaningless, some strange anecdote that I could only hazard a guess as to how many times he had told before. I tuned out of his chatter, instead focusing on the sound of our feet hitting the soft carpet. Even a few minutes with him was excruciating. Upon arriving in the War Room, I took a seat and waited for the show to start.