RE: Monarch

Chapter 220: Fracture XXV

“It’s the horses, isn’t it?” I asked, doing my best to keep the borrowed beast in line.

“Hm?” Maya asked absentmindedly, still wearing the same scowl she’d maintained since leaving the Westmore estate.

“Every time you’re angry with me, or displeased, there are horses nearby.”

A small way behind us, I heard Sera groan.

“Perhaps.” Maya nodded slowly, still avoiding eye-contact. “And seeing how they make up the primary form of transportation across the continent, that is highly unfortunate.”

So much for trying to lighten the mood. She is seriously pissed.

“Uh, Cairn?” Sera cleared her throat. I twisted in my saddle to look at her leading a group of her own contingent and the rest of our regiment following behind. Now that she had my attention, Sera forced a smile. “I think Maya probably wants to know why we diverted so drastically from the original plan?”

“Now that the princess has broached the topic, I would like a further explanation.” Maya agreed, her voice contemplative. “Because it was supposed to be one. A single male from his line of succession, used as an example demonstrating the severity of the situation. One. Person.”

“You saw his eyes. The way he attacked me. He wasn’t going to break with just that.”

“Perhaps.” Maya concurred. She raised an eyebrow. “And the ninth? The tenth? After he was on his knees, clinging to your leg like a child clings to their mother, wailing for mercy? What was the reason then?”

I winced. “It… presented a chance to sow discord within his house. Weaken their ties to each other, lessen the chance of rebellion later and send a warning to the other Houses that it is in their best interests to bend the knee.”

“So it wasn’t a cruel, disproportionate punishment doled out because someone you consider reprehensible dared to question your authority.”

“No.”

“Good.” Maya finally looked at me. “I’ve already had the displeasure of waking up one day and realizing I’ve placed myself in the service of an egocentric who employs savagery as a reliable method of working through his own frustrations. I’d rather not repeat the experience.”

An image of Barion flashed in my head, and I couldn’t help but grimace. “A little low, comparing me to him.”

Her expression softened. “With how your visions function… I try not to question when a choice or course of action doesn’t fully make sense from my perspective. I do everything in my power to play along and help achieve the preferred outcome. And I can do that blindly because the “why” has always been clear to me.”

There were two competing truths in my mind.

The first was that Maya was right. Our incursion had gotten out of control. I got caught up playing an unfamiliar role, and when Balan challenged me, I escalated.

The second was… complicated. Because if, at that very moment, lightning struck me down, and the void sent me back to the moment we broke through? I’m not sure I would have done anything differently. I’d achieved everything I’d intended to. We had my sister’s location. Put a dent into the practice of indentured servitude, and reduced the once illustrious House Westmore from a burr in the crown to a cautionary tale.

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All in the course of a single day.

I could easily grasp where Maya was coming from. Her concern and caution were warranted. But for her to be so caught up on the method that she completely disregarded the result?

That was a bit harder to swallow.

“Understood.” I offered, hoping that would be the end of it. Judging from the way her brows knit together, it wasn’t.

Thankfully Sera interrupted. “Docks are more abandoned than usual. Even for this time of night.” She sat up straighter in her saddle, squinting.

The lanterns that lit the thoroughfare at night came to an abrupt end far earlier than they should have. A spark of anxiety shot through me as I strained to see, barely making out the silhouette of a ship’s stern.

“Is it always this dark?” Maya asked, searching the gloom.

I chewed my lip. “No. Someone put the lights out. All of them. Could have been Zin's group, trying to cover their approach.”

Or my father, hiding the aftermath of an ambush.

“We’ll need torches.” I called back to Mari. “Tell everyone to stay at the ready. No way to know what we’re walking into.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to use the darkness as cover?” Sera asked.

“No way to conceal our movements with this many men in plate. By now they know we’re coming. If there’s a trap it’s already set to spring. I’d rather be able to see it.”

“Aye,” Mari said, drawing her axe. “Not fair for the others to get all the sport, anyway. Ain’t that right boys?”

A collective of affirmatives and murmured agreements followed. Overall, the regiment seemed to be shedding their doubt from the previous standoff. They were soldiers after all. The average soldier in my father’s army had seen worse, probably done worse. I knew all too well how distressing it was to see the violence of war in a more personal and domestic setting, but now that the “dead,” had risen, they were shaking it off quickly.

Subconsciously, I glanced towards Maya.

They understand. Why can’t you?

As much as I wanted to voice it, now was not the time. We dismounted and pushed into the dockyard slowly, searching the shadows. Something large loomed overhead, revealed by the light of a torch. A massive figurehead of a bear, the sigil of House Westmore. “There’s our frigate.”

“Silver.” Someone hissed, creating a cacophony of movement as every nearby sword, axe, and spear turned in the direction of the noise.

“Flame.” I returned. Weapons were lowered as a dark elf in light armor stood up from behind a barrel, ponytail swishing behind him as he jogged over to us.

“Your grace.” Zin stopped, scanning the men behind us. “Lot of long faces. Things go badly at the Slaver House?”

“Depends on who you ask.” I shrugged. “What happened?”

He scowled. “Didn’t like the feel of the place. Already figured the Frigate was manned by a skeleton crew, so we boarded and disarmed them. Easy enough, considering how distracted they were.”

“Distracted with what?” Maya asked.

Zin scowled back at the ship. “Before I say more, let me reiterate that we followed protocol. Separated and questioned them individually. There wasn’t any time for the bastards to coordinate or get their stories straight.”

I braced myself, trying to suppress a growing paranoia that Zin was about to deliver some less than ideal news.

“Just tell me what happened.”

“To a man, every member of the crew, their dogshit mercenary detail, even the damn cook says the same thing. Princess Annette was here. Found a few of her things in one of the cabins. That much at least, I think we can be certain of.”

My heart sank. “They moved her.”

Zin shook his head. “If that was the case, we’d at least have a trail to follow. By their accounts? Annette has disappeared.”

I felt him before I saw him. A large silhouette stepped out from behind a shadow of a dozen crates, long hair flowing in the night sea air. He stepped forward into the torchlight almost tentatively, his typical bluster absent. More alarming, however, was the complete absence of rage. He had every reason to be furious.

Yet, he wasn’t. The look on his face was entirely unreadable.

“Still breathing, I see.” King Gil said.