Chapter 2 Two

Immediately after that pronouncement, Elaine was captured, shackled, and dragged along with them. All screams and protests fell on deaf ears as the soldiers and their leaders continued with their procession through the burning city.

Elaine managed to peek through the tiny holes in the dirty, horrid-smelling carriage she had been thrown into, and a horrified gasp escaped her lips. There was so much destruction on every corner she looked; it looked like they had descended into the depths of hell itself. Deep, dark billows of smoke rose up to the sky, the air filled with death and destruction. Embers scattered in the wind, and the sounds of people screaming, running for their lives, as men in armor hunted them down were so grotesque that Elaine couldn't bear to watch it anymore.

She pulled away from the hole, hyperventilating. Fear took root, and she couldn't help the tears that burned her eyes; nausea twisted her insides so much that she threw up. Helpless, all she could do was cry and wail, though no one paid her any heed.

At one point, due to her growing hysteria from fear and anger, one soldier burst into the carriage, forcefully gave her something to swallow, and knocked her out. By the time she opened her eyes, blinking away the fog that had settled, and peeked out through the hole, she discovered they had arrived in another kingdom entirely.

This one, however, was filled with happy people celebrating the success of their rulers' exploits. Elaine furrowed her brows slightly as she studied the environment. Most of the structures that lined the road seemed new, and a good number of them weren't up to par, but the people's faces still reflected joy and excitement.

"Long live the Brother Kings! Long Live the Brother Kings!" They chanted in a chorus, throwing flower petals and waving their handkerchiefs from the windows where they peeked out; celebratory tunes wove through the air. Elaine grimaced. She couldn't believe they could be so happy. Hadn't they just ambushed her father's kingdom and razed it to the ground?

One by one, people began to grow increasingly curious about the carriage that rode within the procession, sticking out like a sore thumb, with some people pointing hands and conversing with the people next to them. Some of the words were even loud, reaching her.

"What's in there, and why do they guard it so?" She heard someone say, and Elaine's fingers grew cold, her breath quickening. For some reason, that didn't sound good.

"I hear it's one of King Thraine's children!" Another voice screamed for everyone to hear. "It must look like that monster!" He cried, his voice filled with rage and vitriol.

Almost instantly, the happy faces of each and every one who had gathered disappeared, contorting into rage and disgust, and a new chant rose in its place. "Monster!" "Murderer!" "You deserve to die!" "May your body rot in hell!"

Sounds of large things hitting the carriage boomed through her and soon enough, the carriage began to rattle, and Elaine discovered to her horror that they had begun to throw things at her. If it weren't for the carriage she was in... She shuddered to think about it.

The soldiers quickly formed a protective circle, pushing through the unruly mob, but Elaine doubted it was effective, as attacks still reached her. By the time she arrived at the castle, she was already covered in dust, soaked in foul-smelling liquid, and a total mess.

Even the castle they had entered looked nothing like the castle pictures she had seen in books. The grand structure was built more for protection and defense than for extravagant display of wealth. The courtyards were bare, with tons of sentries patrolling the area and hundreds of squires in training, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. So different from the festive camaraderie that had welcomed them, and even that had changed in an instant the moment they learned who she was.

The long procession finally slowed to a stop, and from a distance, she could hear people disembarking from their steeds. A heart-pounding moment later, a soldier burst into the carriage and dragged her out, leading her to the front where the men who had captured her stood. The one with the scarred face spared a glance at her and spoke.

"Lock her up in one of the underground dungeons," he ordered, with barely concealed loathing, though his face reflected anything but.

"What? No! Please, wait!" She tried to protest, but they were already dragging her away, their hold on her restrictive.

"At least let me know where I am before you lock me up!" She screamed in desperation, and one of the haughty-looking soldiers turned to her.

"You don't know where you are?" He asked with a sneer, and Elaine shook her head, even as fear gripped her soul.

"This is the kingdom of Novania," he offered. Elaine's heart skipped multiple beats, then ran away as the name registered.

"Novania?" She squeaked. "Ruled by the Notorious Brother Kings?" Her nanny, God bless her soul, had told tales of the kingdom, and she used to be so terrified listening to it. They were once slaves who had managed to escape and made a name for themselves.

"Yes, that one," he answered, his voice filled with pride. "What do they want with her?"

"Congratulations. Looks like you're their prisoner now," he announced with a malicious glint in his eyes. "Although I wonder what you did to curry their favor like this."

"Oi, didn't you hear?" The soldier who was quiet before finally spoke, as they walked into the dark, musty dungeons. "She's the daughter of King Thraine. The one he hid."

The first soldier laughed, though it wasn't filled with mirth. "Even better," he growled underneath his breath, his eyes narrowing in fury.

Finally, they reached one of the cells and, after opening the steel bar doors, they pulled it open and pushed her in. Elaine stumbled to the ground at the force of the shove, turning around just in time to hear them lock the door shut and walk away.

What's happening? Why do these people hate her so much?

And what kind of man was her father?

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The Brother Kings returned to their chambers, exhausted from the battle and the long procession. Maids and soldiers bowed deeply as they passed, greeting them with an almost invisible nod. Walking side by side, they looked so alike it would have been hard to tell them apart if it weren't for their distinct features that marred their build, all gotten from the years they spent in slavery.

For Marion, it was the long scar that slashed his face and ran into his chest, its length and depth unknown. There was also the limp present in his gait, borne from the constant pressure he had placed on his left leg. He was always taut, tense, his senses on high alert as he needed to keep his rage close to the surface to ward off the constant pain pulsing through his veins, though he wore a mask of cool detachment to hide it all.

For Ryker, the younger brother, it was the lethalness in his steps. More aggressive and easily irritable, there was a permanent scowl on his face that never went away, not even for a moment. The frown lines carved into his chin made him appear several years older, his eyes constantly narrowed in distrust and suspicion. His eyes only ever warmed whenever he looked at his brother, and even then, it was in the privacy of their chambers, when the world couldn't see them. Life had taught them early enough that it was the only way to survive, and they had heeded that lesson.

As they approached their joint chambers, the one they shared when they wanted to discuss administrative issues that concerned their kingdom, the soldiers guarding the doors bowed deeply, pulling the grand double doors open for them, and they walked into the room, hearing the door slam shut behind them.

Now alone, they allowed some of that tension to ease away, and Ryker immediately turned to Marion, assessing him. "How are you?" He asked, his voice carrying a gentleness no one would think was possible.

"Fine," Marion answered, not looking at him. Walking towards a couch, his limp more pronounced, he settled on the chair with a groan, stretching out the hurting leg and letting out a ragged breath. "My leg hurts, but I'll get it treated soon," he added.

Ryker stood, watching him. It would take someone with a keen eye to notice how much pain his brother was in, but Marion had learned to hide it. He narrowed his eyes even further, remembering something.

"We didn't kill all of them like we planned," he ground out, and Marion responded with a clench of his jaw. "No. Fernard escaped with the Moonstone, and we discovered her." Ryker gritted his teeth in rage. That was the main reason they had gone for this attack: to kill every single one of King Thraine's family and followers and take back the Moonstone, the most destructive relic that had ever graced the continent. It had caused havoc in so many kingdoms, and the damage was still spreading.

"We'll get him another time," Marion said, his voice cutting through Ryker's thoughts. The latter glanced at Marion and saw he was already palming his face, his jaw clenched tight, and a thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead. He was in more pain than he let on. He should call on the healer after he leaves here.

"What about her? What do we do with her? Why didn't we just kill her then?" Ryker asked.

"No," Marion's answer was instant. "We're not killing her. But we'll make her pay. She'll pay for her father's sins, one way or another. Death is an easy punishment for all the atrocities they've committed."

Ryker's lips twitched but didn't quite form a smile. "I agree with you on that one. Let's make her pay."