Chapter Eleven: "On the Balcony"
"Roald!" Shinkokami's cry was full of fear. Running down the castle steps towards the mangled body of her fiancé, the future queen's eyes were blurred with tears.
Leaning over the railing, just ten feet above the crown prince, Shinko screamed her fury. What was she supposed to do? What could she do? Already she was disobeying the rules laid down by both Roald and Jon. "Stay in the keep," both had warned, but Shinko would do no such thing. Both were dead now, and the rightful Queen was gone as well. The burden would naturally go to Shinkokami, had she already married Roald. Since she hadn't yet, that left the rightful crown to Kalasin, the crown princess.
Memories drifted in front of Shinko's eyes, as the tears flooded over her face. Kalasin had gone to Carthak...She was spending the season there with Emperor Kaddar. ...but Kaddar was dead. Everyone had thought that Kaddar and Kalasin would form the perfect alliance, yet now that the Emperor was gone, hopefully the princess would come home...and soon.
"SHINKOKAMI! SHINKO LOOK OUT!"
Shinko turned, preparing to duck when she heard Yukimi's outburst. ...She was too late.
Arrows sprouted in her face and chest as blood oozed from both places. A well placed shot landed in her throat, cutting of all air, as another pierced her eye. With one final shriek, Princess Shinkokami was dead. Yet again that day, the death count raised to add another member of the Royal family.
On the balcony above Shinko's body, Yukimi screamed the battle cry of a griffin. Seemingly flying, she leaped from the parapet to Shinkokami. The Yamani maiden would avenge her mistress.
Breathing carefully, Numair tried to keep his harsh tones quiet. Wearing only breeches, his chest was entirely visible. Blood leaked from wounds that made his whole upper body look ragged, almost as if a fork had dragged itself through skin.
His wrists were chained above him, locked onto the wall, while his ankles were chained just below. He formed an 'x' on one side of his cell. Shivering, he let out a moan of agony as he lost more blood. How much longer could he live like this?
If only...
On the floor at the other side of the cell lay his robe and the broken pieces of his bracelet, his focus...his love.
Tears stung his eyes as he recalled the incident. It was too harsh to remember. As the salty water rolled down his cheeks onto his wounds, he screamed in a fierce tortured agony. A mournful sound of a mother, who just lost a child, of Daine, when she'd thought he was gone, of a raging army, preparing for battle. Numair was ready, he would. He would kill them all, the guards, all of them. He would be free, no longer would he wait here in the dark, waiting for another form of pain. No. No longer, tonight, he would make his escape...once he found out how to get off the wall, and ... out of the cell...But he'd have all day and a good part of the night to think about it.
End Chapter Eleven