Fighting for a Crown

Chapter Twenty Eight

I blindly opened the door next to us and let Trist walk in before me.

"Is she alright?" I whispered quietly, putting my writing box down to help Tristan sit on a stool. He was crying.

We'd ended up in a conservatory. Exotic plants lined the walls and made the air slightly fuzzy.

My friend shrugged. "He hasn't said. One letter from Papa said she'd been  missing for days, the other was from Kent saying he had her. How did he get her again?" Tristan looked up at me, tears spilled down his face.

I needed to get back, I so needed to get back. There was nothing I could do about this. But I needed to get back to Evie. I think that was more pressing.

"Rili why can't I send the money out?" Trist shouted, surprising me.

Gently I shrugged, my mind still consumed with Evie, but little slivers of Ottilie's voice worked their way in. "I can't tell you that. You know I would if I could. Look you need to talk to Fana. He'll talk to Father, they'll figure something-"

"Do you not care about her?" I heard Trist ask quietly. His words blew through me like a bullet. "Why won't you help me? Don't you care?"

I groaned and struck my fist out against the wall.

"I'm trying to stop the nation from falling in on itself and I'm failing, Trist!" I yelled.

He was crying again, he looked so hurt and I wished I could help - it was just so much more complicated than when we were children.

"Yes you are failing." He whispered. "I'll go and find Afanasy." With that Tristan shoved past me and out of the conservatory.

I wasted no time in grabbing the writing box and running back to Evie's new room. When I burst through the door she was pacing, a contemplative hand to her mouth.

"Well I don't see how anyone could've done it." Evie spoke sharply, turning to me. "What's the point? If any of the girls knew the way to your brother's rooms then they wouldn't need the blueprints. They'd already know the layout of the palace."

I heard her words, but none of them really stuck. Ottilie was gone again, this time possibly for good. That thought forced me down onto the bed.

"Hellooo?" The girl called from by the fireplace. "Shouldn't we write that down? Not that I'm accusing your brother of lying but-"

"Quiet." I snapped, surprising both of us. Everyone knew that I was no spy or thief, so I could probably ride down to Baracosia or wherever the hell Kent had her and deliver the money myself. There would be safety implications and that but if it was the only way... Though the border was two days ride - if I went I'd miss the trial and Evie would be dead when I returned.

Evie stopped in front of me, hands on her hips. "No I won't be quiet, actually. You said that they're putting me on trial for treason so I'm not really at liberty to just stay quiet and-" She paused, looking me up and down. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

There was Tommy's hell again.

I sighed, pushing my hands through my hair. "About five things, by my count."

"Well are you going to go and tend to them or not? Because to my knowledge I'm going to die and the clock is ticking right the way down, so that feels urgent."

Groaning, I stood up. "It is urgent. So is saving Ottilie, so is figuring out where on earth the blueprints got to, so is pacifying Definis. There's so many things I need to do, all of them life threatening, all with impossible time constraints and..." I trailed off, noticing that she'd stopped listening, and was instead taking out papers and ink from my writing box, which had been abandoned on a table.

Gently, Evie turned back to me, seeming to notice how I'd given up. "Right. I don't know who the hell Ottilie is, or why you need to save her, but I'm being put to death in two days. You can either help me or you can get yourself the hell out of this prison." She grasped my gaze and would clearly not release it until I responded.

Oh sod it all.

"No I'm going to help you. Damn everything else." I dropped down cross legged onto the floor, she sat down heavily too. The weight of everything going wrong had worn me down and I was now just left with lightheaded exhaustion.

Evie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "If I was prone to romantic sensibilities I might find that very endearing." She smiled down at a sheet of paper, before handing it to me. "Ask me any questions you think relevant, then note down my answers. I'd also like you to take me through how a court trial works so I'm prepared come Thursday. Is that a reasonable proposition?"

Hesitantly, I took the paper from her. "You don't seem awfully worried."

Evie smiled, it seemed sympathetic at first, as though I was the one in need of comfort, but then I realised that actually those lips were mocking me. "Well I'm actually fucking terrified." She glanced down to the hands which were folded in her lap. "But I'm innocent. They cannot convict me if I'm innocent." She snapped, regaining her fire.

I tried not to, but I had to look up at her face then. Her beautiful, innocent, perfect face. With those feline-shaped, doe-spirited eyes. She was so young. So young, to be faced with such daunting prospects. Too young.

"Right?" Her eyes searched mine for reassurance, reassurance I wished I could provide.

Unclenching fists I didn't know had been curled, I shook my head. "If they want you dead then they'll have you dead." The whispers didn't sound like mine. I could feel them like feathered knives in my throat though.

Evie shuffled forward a little bit and I took her fingertips in my hands. "Why would they want me dead? What've I done wrong?"

Exhausted, I shrugged. "You made me fall for you. You took my attention. I suppose it's in their best interests to lay the blame on you, and let whoever really took the prints go home quietly."

The slap rang around the room.

"Why the hell didn't you just send me home? Why the hell didn't you just ignore me and leave me alone and-"

"Stop saying hell." I muttered quietly, trying not to interrupt her.

"Right what is your problem with the way I speak?" She jumped to her feet, I took that as my cue to rise too, trying to keep my emotions in check, my fingers itching to rebutton my loose boot.

"I don't like the word hell." My voice was barely audible, but it was all I could emit without shouting. The reality was I did like the word hell. I loved it. But the curtain it dragged over my memories of Tommy was my least favourite thing in the world.

"That's not my problem!" She shouted even louder than before. "Why did you drag me down here to die when you could've let me be?"

"Because I love you!" I shouted then, louder than I thought I was capable of. "I saw you then and I knew you were different and when you said you loved me I could never let you go. Do you know how I, a crown bloody prince, would kill to have someone love me for who I am?"

"No I don't." Evie spat. "But I know who you're willing to kill for it."