Chapter Eight
Brady opened his eyes just as the daylight was beginning to stream in from the windows. He stretched his arms across the bed with a sleepy yawn, still not quite used to waking up with someone else in the bed. But, once he was awake enough to remember where he was, Brady was surprised to find his arm hit nothing but sheets and blankets. Brady sat up on his elbow and turned to his side, where Chloe should have been laying, to find that she was in fact not there beside him.
"Chloe?" Brady called out, turning his head to look around the room as he sat up a bit more on his elbow. But she was no where in the room. But Brady was not concerned. Chloe had been quite restless last night. Brady was not even for certain whether she had slept at all. She was still awake when he finally gave in to the tempting words of Hypnos and closed his tired eyes.. Brady could not blame her for her nervousness. It was to be expected in a situation such as this. As he got out of the bed to get dressed, Brady thought back to the conversation they had had last night before he fell asleep.
"Brady, I'm not sure I can do this," Chloe had said worriedly. She was turned away from him, facing the wall opposite of the balcony entrance. Brady had wrapped his arms around her then, pulling her close to him, and molding her into his embrace, his chin resting comfortably on her bare shoulder.
"Of course you can," Brady had encouraged, and he meant it. "Everything is going to be alright."
"But what if everything isn't alright? I mean… the chance that Philip will even believe us is slim to none. And even if he does believe us, the chance that he will agree to our union is even smaller. He could send us away… or worse! I hate to think it, but Philip could have us killed."
"Yes… I will not lie to you, Chloe. The odds may be against us. But they were never in our favor, and look where we have ended up. Together, finally, after so many long, painful years," Brady pointed out. "I think that fate has brought us here for a reason, Chloe. And whatever that reason may be, and whether Philip is a part of our destiny or not, I truly believe that as long as we are together, nothing can harm us. I lost you once, I will not even bare the thought of losing you again. So, I have to believe that everything will work itself out if I work to achieve that goal. And I hope you can as well," Brady stated. "And besides… Philip is your brother. You are the only family he has left now. I would think he would want to welcome you. I know I would if I was in his situation." Brady momentarily thought of his sister Isabella. Philip, and most likely everyone in Mucche, had believed Chloe was dead. And now, she was returning from the dead so to speak. And Brady wished that could happen for his sister… as well as other members of his family lost before their time.
"Maybe he would be accepting of just me," Chloe had started, turning on her side to face him. "But will Philip accept me, if is means accepting you too?" Brady sighed sadly, shaking his head. That was the one question that really mattered most, and it was the one question that would not be answered until they made it to Mucche to see for themselves.
"I don't know. But… we will never know if we don't try. We can't live in fear and anticipation the rest of our lives."
And that had basically been the end of that conversation. Chloe had told Brady he was right, and she had seemed to calm down her nerves somewhat. But she had never fallen asleep as far as Brady knew. Just as Brady finished buttoning his shirt and throwing on his vest, there came a knock at the door.
"Come in," Brady called, grabbing his belt. Harold peeked his head in the door, almost shyly.
"Are you and the little missus decent yet?" Harold called. Brady smiled, fastening his belt and waving Harold in.
"Chloe is not here right now. And it is not as if my being indecent would stop you," Brady stated, seating himself on his bed and grabbing his boots from under it.
"Hey, you're going to be a married man soon. I suppose that means I will just have to accept that I need to refrain from ogling the King. Besides, I like Chloe… would not want to get her hating me," Harold joked, stepping inside the room, but leaving the door open. "The carriage is ready for your departure. There are two footmen armed with concealed weapons, and General Rex will be disguised as your driver.
"No, not Rex," Brady stated, finishing with his bootlaces and standing up straight. "He would be easy to recognize, especially if General Michael should be in attendance. Best to get another solider on the job if you insist on sending so many guards with me."
"You still are not pleased that you agreed to take armed guards?" Harold inquired.
"No, I am not. If Philip should discover that we are not entering his city completely peaceful as we will tell him, then our message of peace will be lost. And should he really intend to have us killed, it is doubtful that three guards, no matter how securely armed, will be much of a match for Philip's entire fleet of guards and soldiers," Brady stated rather venomously.
Brady picked up his purple pendant-- a replica of Shawn's own treasured amulet that Shawn had given him many years ago as a sign of friendship and thanks for Brady's support of him after Shawn's parents' deaths-- and placed it over his head and around his neck as he spoke. He was not dressed as a simple commoner as he was when he normally adorned the accessory. Such a piece of jewelry was not usually worn by a king after all, which was why Brady was so fond of it. But he was not dressed in royal robes either. Actually, Brady rarely ever wore any traditional clothing, except in very rare occasions when he could not avoid it. He merely wore his own clothing style in the royal colors on most every day occasions. For this journey, Brady wore a black leather tunic over a white dress shirt made of fine silk and matching black leather pants, a very usual ensemble for him which Brady felt quite comfortable in. The clothes were not gaudy and stuffy, or warlike, if the occasion called for it, like traditional royal garments, nor were they ratty and dingy like the clothes he kept for when he wished to walk among the people as a commoner. These clothes were quite respectable, and just right for the occasion.
"But I suppose it can not be helped. Philip will surely reject a written proposal to meet. After all, whatever the proposal might say would seem ridiculous given the delicate nature of the situation. So the only way for this plan to work is to just make it into the city by surprise. I am just glad that Chloe does not know that we will be taking armed guards along with us. I do not imagine she would approve," Brady said.
"You are worried." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Harold could sense Brady's fear.
"Yes," Brady confirmed. "If this does not work… if Philip should reject our offer, I'm afraid it will kill Chloe. Philip is the only family she has left. She's gone through so much… I'm afraid Philip's willing and intentional rejection of her will be her undoing."
"Then, we shall just have to pray that King Philip is a far more reasonable man than his father before him," Harold stated. "We should be going now. You may already have to travel through the night to make it to Mucche in that carriage. It is not just a stepping stone away you know."
"Yes…. Chloe and I will take our time, to make sure we take the safest route into the city. But I should imagine we will be back by the morning after next, if things go as planned," Brady stated. "I will meet you outside. First, I must find my wife-to-be." Harold smiled and bowed his head, turning to exit the room via the opening door.
Brady checked his appearance in the full length mirror, running an ivory comb through his silky brownish blonde hair. He grabbed the two sun-dried leather pieces bound together with twine and papyrus--which Harold strangely had named a "briefcase"-- that held the peace treaty the Kings of the Alliance had devised the night before with Brady's council that Brady prayed Philip would sign. Brady made one more sweep of the room with his eyes to make sure he had not forgotten anything before he too exited the room, closing the door to his chambers behind him.
Brady had not made it three steps--he'd been heading for the gardens, thinking Chloe might be there--when he stopped in front of Chloe's old room. He marveled for a moment at the fact that he was actually able to sense that Chloe was inside, before he opened the door and entered the room. Brady smiled fondly to see Chloe sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed. The bed was littered with dress materials of varying colors and threads and sewing instruments. His smiled broadened to see Chloe's face. Harold must have gotten to her with his crazy inventions. Chloe was now wearing what Harold had called "miniature binoculars" until Brady had suggested the shorter term "eyeglasses" seeing as how they were made of glass with the intention to be placed over one's eyes. How Harold could complain so about Jack's crazy ideas, given that Harold's were just as equally far-fetched, was beyond Brady.
"Love the look," Brady stated as he set his "briefcase" down beside the doorway. Chloe, who had not realized he had come in, was startled by the sound of his voice.
"Brady!" Chloe exclaimed, jerking her head up in surprise. Brady laughed out loud, unable to control himself, at Chloe's comical appearance. Not only did her hair--which had been put up in a simple, messy bun--look frayed and wild, but the "eyeglasses," which were really quite large pieces of glass, made her eyes and pupils look huge. She looked like a mad woman. Chloe frowned, somehow adding to the cute, comical look. "Brady Black, just what the hell do you think you are laughing at!" Chloe demanded.
"Nothing, my love. I was just merely marveling at how blue your… colossal eyes are," Brady replied. Chloe gave him a questioning look, and so Brady gestured towards the vanity mirror. Chloe took one look at her reflection and bolted out of the chair, barely giving her enough time to throw the garment she was sewing onto the bed, and ran for the vanity. She immediately removed the "eyeglasses," blushing a brilliant scarlet red in embarrassment as she laid them down and attempted to smooth out her wily hair.
"My, I look completely mad!" Chloe exclaimed. It didn't help that she was in a simple dingy white nightgown type dress that looked like something patients in the asylum would be forced to wear. Brady shut the bedroom door and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and bending his head to place a gentle, sensuous kiss on her semi-exposed neck.
"I think you look stunning," Brady whispered, placing another kiss on her flesh.
"Mmmm… you're sweet," Chloe stated, seemingly lost in the sensuous pleasure of his touch. "A terrible liar, but sweet just the same. Are you going to continue to be this sweet once we're married, or is this all just a charade to hide your bitter ways?" Chloe joked. Brady placed his hands on her hips, twirling her around in his arms, a coy smile on his handsome face.
"I do intend to be this sweet when we are married. In fact, I am going to smother you in so much sweetness, love, and kindness that you are just going to be downright sick of me," Brady stated. He spoke in a playful manner, but the words he spoke were all truth. If he had his way, once Chloe became Queen Chloe Black, Brady planned to never speak a harsh word to his beloved as long as they both lived. But then, how could such a perfect existence ever be? "But now, in all seriousness, we must be going. It is going to take us long enough to get there as it is." Chloe nodded, extracting herself from Brady's embrace to walk over to the bed and retrieve her dress.
"I had planned to be dressed and ready before you woke up, but I got a little carried away. Look," Chloe instructed, holding the dress up in front of her. She pointed first to the sleeve. "I wanted to finish sewing the dress I started when I first got here. You know, to wear today. But I got almost done and an idea occurred to me. I thought it would be nice to sew the symbol of Mucche on my left sleeve, as sort of a peace offering," Chloe stated. The dress itself was of a burgundy crushed, velvety satin material, with black roses, complete with vibrant green leaves and stems, embroidering, starting from the left shoulder and working down in a diagonal pattern to the right hip. If the back of the dress was showing, you could see that the rose pattern continued straight across from the hip, across the small of the back, ending at the back left hip. The sleeves of the dress were long with a great deal of material left at the ends that formed pointy bell curves. On the right upper left forearm near the left shoulder of the dress was the Mucchean symbol stitched in white threads. "And this," Chloe continued, pointing to the right side of the dress. On the right, directly above where her heart would be was stitched quite a sight to behold indeed.
Each country of Salem--Mucche, Nero, Rubino, Supervisore, and Arcadia-- had just a symbol that was meant to represent the country and its people as a whole. But the royal family had something a little different. The country symbol was always taken and put on a shield; in picture or clothing form, the shield with the symbol was done in the country's colors, with a square background that was divided into four colors of the royal families choosing.
Chloe had taken the royal crest of Nero and the royal crest of Mucche and combined the two into one over her heart. Half of the squared crest was the shield of Nero, while the other half was Mucchean shield. Chloe had a beaming smile on her face that reached her eyes. Brady could tell she was very proud of the dress she had made with her own hands, as it meant both a sign of peace to Philip, and that she proudly accepted her role as the bond between two countries.
"It's wonderful, Chloe. I'm sure Philip will greatly appreciate the sentiment," Brady stated honestly.
"You think so?" Chloe asked hopefully. "I hope he is not offended by it…"
"I am certain he will not be. I know I would appreciate the thought if I was him. You must have worked your fingers to the bone to get this done in time," Brady commented. "The craftsmanship is quite amazing. Even the Palace seamstress would possibly take up to a week or more to construct something like this."
"Well, I have been working on the actual dress for a few days now. And I had a lot of motivation to get this done on time," Chloe replied. Brady nodded, understanding.
"You want to look your best to go in front of Philip," Brady stated. "And believe me, Chloe, you will. Even without a stunning dress. You're his family."
"Still, the dress won't hurt my appearance. And by the time we get there, maybe my fingers won't be so swollen," Chloe laughed, holding the dress with one hand and holding up the other hand to show. Sure enough, her fingers were quite swollen and red.
"Do they hurt?"
"No. I'm used to it. After … after the kidnaping, any clothes I had, I had to make. And I made my living in Rubino as a seamstress, so I'm used to sore fingers. They wouldn't even be this sore if I hadn't worked through the night," Chloe answered. Brady had really lost base with her words with the word kidnaping. Everything had worked out in the end, and he knew she was accepting of her past now, but Brady was still pained by the thought of Chloe in slavery for so many years.
"Well, come on then. You're not even dressed yet. And, although I think the look is just absolutely adorable, that hair style might be all the proof Philip needs to believe we're both insane." Chloe laughed at this, as did Brady.
"I do believe you're right. Just seeing my own reflection makes me wonder about my own sanity," Chloe said. She laid the dress back down on the bed, laying it amongst her slip and other undergarments she had laid out earlier. She began to lift the white dress over her head to change when Brady stepped forward, catching her hands. "Brady, what…"
"Um… you… you might want to, you know, go in the bathroom to do that," Brady said.
"Why?" Chloe asked, quite confused. "We are to be married, and it is not as if you haven't seen me before."
"Yes, I know. And as much as I would love to "see" you right now… if you were to change here with me watching… well, I might be rather tempted. And we are under a major time constraint, so…" Chloe laughed at his subtle hints, shaking her head and working her hands free of his grasp, gathering up her clothing.
"Alright, alright. I will change in there. I keep forgetting what a sex-driven pervert you are," Chloe teased. Brady grabbed her waist as she walked by him, pulling her body to his.
"I love it when you talk dirty," Brady teased, leaning his head down and nipping at her neck before planting another kiss on her soft flesh.
"Brady!" Chloe squealed, squirming to free herself of his grasp. Brady let her go with a sly smile on his face.
"Alright, go. Go, before I cave to my "sex-driven, perverted" urges." Chloe laughed, quickly disappearing into the bathroom and closing the door. Brady sat down on the bed to wait for her.
Knowing they had to get up early in the morning to leave, Brady and Chloe had taken a refreshing bath, together of course as Chloe had decided not to take the bath Harold had prepared for her until Brady was finished with his meeting. So all Chloe had to do was change and fix her hair. Chloe had mentioned how lucky she was last night while they bathed. As a slave, Chloe rarely was allowed to bathe, except when her master took her with him to the public baths, or when Lord Paul was away and Brandon allowed her to go to the public baths alone. Their little secret of course, as slaves were not allowed to be out without an escort, or some kind of identification with their owner's name that stated they were in fact allowed to be out. And in Rubino, the situation had not been much better. Since she was out on her own, she had to pay the fee to use the public baths, proving they were not so much "public" as they were "elite" for those who could afford the toll. And that was difficult on a seamstress's budget. And to bathe in the lake, the river's current being far too fast, would be cold, and would risk leaving you about as dirty before you bathed, not to mention the possibility of leeches. Living in the Palace, Chloe could have a bath--and someone to bathe her-- at a moment's notice. And Chloe would definitely not take that blessing for granted.
Ten minutes later, Chloe emerged from the bathroom, dressed and ready to go. The dress hugged her curves perfectly, flaring out at the hips. Her hair was done up high, but allowing locks of hair to flow down in wavy curls. She looked… breathtaking.
"Ready," Chloe stated with a bright smile. Brady stepped forward, taking her arm. Making sure to grab his "briefcase" from in front of the door, Brady led Chloe out the door and down the hallways, leading her out to the awaiting carriage. Halfway there, Brady spotted Shawn, coming out of the Palace kitchen.
"Shawn," Brady called. And Shawn turned his head towards him, hesitating before approaching Brady and Chloe. "Shawn… look, I… I want to apologize for…"
"Brady, there is no need. I understand. It is a stressful time. You go on, and do not worry about a thing. We will all be waiting for your return. We can talk then," Shawn interrupted.
"Thank you, Shawn. I will see you upon our return." Shawn nodded, and Brady and Chloe continued about their way. The carriage was waiting, the two armed footmen and a new driver, which Chloe assumed were just ordinary servants, waiting for them. Brady helped Chloe into the carriage, giving the two "footmen" a look which might have said something like "just keep a low profile." Once Chloe was safely in the carriage, he too stepped up into it, and the first "footman" closed the door behind them. The two "footmen" took their place on the carriage, and with a wave from Harold, who was standing outside at the castle gate, the carriage started off on its way to Mucche. And Brady and Chloe, holding hands inside the carriage, both said a silent prayer to God to watch over them on this monumental journey……
When Chloe and Brady finally entered the city, which was surprisingly very lacking in security, the sun was once again breaking over the mountains, signifying a new day. There was a small village, which really only consisted of two farm houses and a storage tower for crops, located in the mountain chain. The village was isolated from either country, though it lay more on the Mucchean side of the mountain in a place where altitude was not a problem for the two families that inhabited the area. This little two family village was seen as neutral ground. The excessively large storage tower held far more food and supplies than the two families needed, so it made a great place to stop when making the long journey between the two countries.
Very few people, however, aside from spies, rebels, and the DiMera family ever made the journey, so the two families were quite welcoming of company, especially given that this particular visit was of royalty. Chloe and Brady had stopped there for food and rest so they could arrive in the city in the morning instead of late at night. The stop had given them the opportunity to get a fresh bath, although they both stayed in the same clothing, and Chloe had been able to redo her hair, being as altitude had not been kind to her stylish hair.
"Brady, something doesn't feel right," Chloe stated worriedly, squeezing his hand for support. Brady nodded; he felt it too.
"I know. I mean, I had hoped the carriage would not be immediately seized, but I had never expected this. It is almost as if there is no security at all." Of course, Brady, as well as his three guards, knew that wasn't so. Well hidden guards were all along the mountain pass upon reaching the Mucchean border. But, although Brady was certain each and every one of them must have seen the carriage, despite the fact it was on the safest known passageway, none of them had made a single move to approach them or seize them.
Now in the city, there were more troops, who were not hidden from even untrained eyes, to be seen here and there. Yet still no one stopped the carriage as it approached the heart of the city. Townspeople, at least for the most part, did not even bother to look up as they passed, even though Brady knew they must have known that they were not Mucchean. Soldiers passing on the streets barely paid them notice, and the carriage had stopped in front of the Palace before anyone even seemed to notice they were there. The draw bridge began to lower for them, as if their arrival was expected.
From inside the castle, Philip emerged, dressed more regally than he might have ever been in his life, although he was not wearing traditional long flowing royal robes. He was surrounded by four armed guards, and six more guards emerged from behind him, lining up along the sides of the draw bridge should their King need protection, although from their debriefing earlier, they knew Philip would be in no danger. Once the carriage was stopped, the two "footmen" hopped down from their posts, one opening the door, and the other holding out his hand to help Chloe down first, and then Brady stepped down on his own. Neither of them saw Cynthia, who was hiding in the shadows in the Palace from where the extra soldiers had come from; watching and waiting where she could see and hear all, but they could not see her.
Philip drew in a sharp breath when he saw her. God help him, he wanted nothing more then to forget everything Cynthia had instructed him to do and rush up to her and embrace her. Chloe was exactly as he would have pictured her; the stunning creature before him could not be anyone else but his beloved long lost sister. But seeing Brady emerge from the carriage and stand beside Chloe was all he needed to wipe those thoughts from his mind. Philip stood strong and unwavering, doing his best to appear like the king they never believed he could possibly be.
"What business do you have here in my Kingdom, King Brady?" Philip asked, stressing the word king with a very sarcastic note. Of course he knew Brady's intentions, but he couldn't let Brady know that. Chloe's resolve wavered a bit, and she had to grab on to Brady's arm for emotional support. Philip's tone was so cold. How could she possibly get through to one who had closed himself off so?
"We have come to speak with you, King Philip. We wish to extend to you a message of peace," Brady replied, his voice as stern and strong as Philip's, but not nearly so cold. Unlike Chloe, he was not fearful of the many guards which had immediately surrounded them. He didn't believe they wouldn't attack them of course. Such beliefs could prove fatal. But he sensed that they would not have been allowed so easily into the city if Philip's only intention was to have them killed. Plus, Brady's 'always-two-steps-ahead' mind had already spotted the weak points in the guards surrounding them, and had more than one escape route planned should the occasion call for it.
"Most intelligent rulers send messengers to campaign those kinds of messages, Brady. Generally proves less deadly. A good ruler would know that. What reason do you have that I should not just strike you dead at this very moment?" Philip inquired, waving his hand to the guards, which caused them all to unsheathe their weapons, pointing them directly at the offending party.
"Philip, no," Chloe pleaded. That voice… God above, he remembered that angelic voice. Chloe was about to step forward, which caused the "footmen" and "driver" to involuntarily move for their own weapons, but Brady held her arm tightly, forbidding her to step forward.
"True peace can not be obtained without trust. We have come to you with complete trust in the hopes that we can settle our differences," Brady replied.
"Complete trust, aye?" Philip inquired smugly. Michael, and his two men he had hiding behind where he knew the carriage would stop, came forward then, seizing the guards and exposing their weapons. Chloe's eyes grew wide, and she gave Brady a very disappointed, almost hurt look. "I am not the fool you think I am, Brady. I would have to be mad to actually believe that you would come in to my Kingdom completely unarmed. Either that, or you would have to be." Brady let go of Chloe's arm, and boldly moved towards his three guards. The driver had already been forced down from his seat onto the ground beside the others. Michael drew his own sword as Brady grabbed his driver's sword, but that was not all he went for. He removed every single weapon from the three men. Every sword, and every dagger. Brady then took the supply of weapons and turned towards Philip, throwing them all down on the wooden draw bridge with a disturbing clatter in front of Philip and his guards.
"Neither you nor I are insane or stupid. Your family has not exactly given me much reason to completely trust in my safety, or the safety of those around me. But I am going to go out on a limb here. I stand before you now, completely unarmed. You can do what you will, but all I ask is that you hear us out. What can it hurt you now? We are not a threat without weapons, you know that," Brady stated. Philip, as discreetly as possible, looked over his shoulder as if to ask Cynthia with his eyes what he should do. He wanted to just kill Brady on the spot and take Chloe in to the castle where they could be a family again. Cynthia, though Philip could barely see her, nodded her head, urging him on. Philip waved his hand again, signifying for the guards to lower their arms. But Michael still had his men keep hold of Brady's guards, making sure they truly were not a threat to his king.
"You have exactly one minute to convince me that I should not kill you on the spot," Philip stated, although he knew he would not be killing Brady today. Cynthia was right; the best way to kill Brady was to take everything he loved first. Brady nodded, stepping back to Chloe's side, where she, not thinking about it of course, seemed to shy away from him a bit, that look of disappointment not gone from her face. The exchange did not go unnoticed by Philip, and he was very pleased to see Chloe begin to turn away from Brady, though he did not know that that wasn't necessarily the case.
"I submit to you a treaty of peace, signed by King Shawn of Rubino, King David of Arcadia, and King Jason of Supervisore, as well as myself. We four nations have agreed to set aside all our differences, and band together. We wish Mucche to be a part of our alliance. We all have seen enough blood shed in our days to last one hundred life times. We wish to put an end to that now," Brady stated, his voice still strong, although Chloe's shying away from him had deeply hurt him. He had known she would react badly if she knew, but now was not the time.
"And what reason do you have that I should join this alliance? I care nothing for the kings or the countries you speak of. What should their wishes matter to me?" Philip inquired. "They are but mere stepping stones to me. Stepping stones, to get to you. And I have you now, so why should I care what the Kings of your alliance desire?"
"Yes Philip, I know they mean nothing but gaining vengeance to you. That is what I have come here to stop. Our kingdoms have been at this so long, we have forgotten what started this senseless war. Can't you see what it has done to us? We are ruled by our hatred. I have much reason to hate you and your family, and you have your own reasons for hating my family. But I stand before you today to put an end to this hatred. And I offer you a resolution to the one sin committed to you that should never have happened," Brady stated. Chloe did allow him to hold her hand now, as she needed his strength to allow him to press on. "I bring before you a peace offering. I bring to you, upon her own free will, Princess Chloe Kiriakis, and the future Queen of Nero." Philip would not have wavered if it had not been for Brady's second declaration. Cynthia had failed to mention that Chloe and Brady were so in love that he would propose marriage to her after knowing her for only a short time.
"I have heard many dirty tricks and lies in my time, Brady," Philip began. "But that is perhaps the most cruel joke I have ever heard. That is cruel, even coming from you, the man who murdered my father and my brothers. My sister Chloe is dead, taken from me because of your father's hatred for my family. This girl you bring before me… she is nothing but a pawn in your ploy to bring me down."
"No Philip, please you have to believe us…" Chloe stepped forward, out of Brady's reach, to approach Philip. Immediately, the first guard on Philip's right advanced, sword drawn, at Chloe.
"No!" Philip commanded as the sword was pointed at Chloe's throat. Brady advanced, kicking the sword out of the guard's hands and pulling Chloe protectively to him. But Chloe paid no heed to the near-threat on her life, and she merely waved Brady off, pulling herself out of his arms. She was watching Philip only, and his reaction to her life being put in danger.
"You do believe us," Chloe stated.
"Of course he does." Cynthia emerged now from the shadows, a cat-like satisfied grin on her face as she hooked one arm through Philip's. "But he had help of course."
"Cynthia," Brady sneered.
"Nice to see you too, Your Highness," Cynthia said sarcastically.
"I should have known you were a traitor."
"Quiet!" Philip commanded, seemingly displeased with both Brady and Cynthia. Philip disengaged himself from Cynthia's arm, taking a step towards Chloe. "Yes, it is true. I knew you were coming long before you ever reached the city gates. I knew you'd come, and now, seeing you in the flesh, I know without a shadow of a doubt who you are." Philip paused for a moment, contemplating his next statement. "You… are a traitor."
"No… no, I'm…"
"Do you deny that you are to wed my greatest enemy? Do you deny that you share a bed with the very man who killed our father?" Philip asked harshly.
"But… I'm not a traitor. I still love you, you're my family! This is all so we can be happy… all of us. My marriage to Brady will mean a union between our countries. That is why we came here," Chloe stated.
"Is that what you hoped to accomplish, my dear sister?" Philip asked, his tone dripping sarcasm, although there was no real venom behind the words. "Well, Chloe dear… you have failed."
"Philip, please…" Chloe looked so desperate, so sad, that Philip almost caved. But he wouldn't give up now… he'd gotten this far, he could continue until the end. Brady stood by and watched the display between the long lost twin siblings, knowing he could do nothing to stop the display.
"How dare you? How dare you come here now, after we spent so many years trying to find you? Worrying night and day that you were being tortured, or that you would be killed if we didn't find you. Where were you when our parents began to hate each other? When the pain our mother was feeling distanced her from the family who needed her love, from the child who deserved her love. Where were you when our mother's grief finally overtook her and she lost her own life? Where were you when our father was murdered?" Philip asked forcefully, nearly screaming, and yet still cold and strong. "How dare you come here now… now, with that man," Philip stated harshly, pointing accusingly towards Brady. Chloe was nearly in tears now, a cold chill at Philip's cruel words raking through her body.
"I couldn't be here, Philip!" Chloe proclaimed, making no effort to try to hide her pain. "I never wanted to abandon our family… I didn't ask to be taken in to slavery!"
"No, no I suppose you didn't. But can you deny that you willingly stay in the company with the very people that are responsible for your life in slavery?" Philip asked, looking at Brady with daggers in his eyes.
"Brady had nothing to do with that, Philip," Chloe pointed out, knowing exactly what he meant. "He was just a child too, like us. He helped you escape, don't you remember?" Philip seemed perplexed for a moment. He didn't have any memory of Brady as a child. But yet, he felt he should….
"What does it matter?" Cynthia interjected, fearing she was losing Philip to Chloe's words. "It doesn't affect the outcome. Brady's father still kidnaped you and sold you into slavery because of his own selfish desires. If his father could be so evil, then of course Brady could."
"Yes… yes, he could. Even if what you say is true, even if Brady was the one that helped me escape… that still didn't save me. I would have been better off if I was just allowed to die in slavery," Philip spat. "I have lost everything… and all that I have lost, all that was denied me, can be directly linked back to the two of you."
"Do you think you are the only one who suffers?" Brady interjected. "Do you think you are the only one who has felt pain? If you honestly believe you are the only person who has been wronged here, then perhaps you are as ignorant as I first thought you were," Brady spat. "We have all experienced loss. All three of us have been wronged. Chloe was robbed of a normal life. You were robbed of the love of your sister, and the love of your mother and father. I was robbed of my family's love as well. At least you have memories of your mother, Philip. We have all experienced pain… we are all the same." Philip would hear no more of it. To think that Brady would dare compare his so called pain to the wrongs that had been committed to him was just unheard of.
"Philip please… I love you. You're my brother, my family. Can't we please put all this hurt behind us and be a family? If you would just sign Brady's peace treaty… we could be a family again," Chloe pleaded. "Please... I'm your sister." Philip stepped forward now, and the emotionless expression on his face sent more chills up her spine then Chloe ever believed imaginable. He came right up to her, and stood there for a moment in silence, not moving a muscle. Without warning, Philip reached up his hand, grabbing Chloe's left shoulder roughly, and yanking off the sleeve of the dress Chloe had been so proud of that adorned the Mucchean symbol. Not a sound could be heard at that moment except the awful ripping of the material as Philip ripped off the entire sleeve at the seam. He threw the material hatefully on the ground, spitting on top of the symbol which Chloe had lovingly sewed the previous morning.
"I have no sister," Philip stated, his voice like icy daggers piercing her very heart. Chloe backed away from him, shaking her head, willing him with her mind to take it back. She backed into Brady's waiting arms, and did not even attempt to fight the tears as she collapsed in her lover's embrace. Philip's resolve did not waver; he wouldn't allow it to. "Guards, get these people out of my sight. Since you had such "faith" in me Brady, I will in turn allow you a break. You and your… fiancé," Philip started, using the term fiancé loosely, as he could not bring himself to say the word he knew Cynthia would have preferred him to use, "are free to go. But let it be known, from this day forth, if either one of you sets so much as one foot on Mucchean lands, you are to be killed on the spot. I do not care whether it would be fair combat or honorable death. You have been warned, as everyone here will testify. Now go, and take your ridiculous peace treaty with you," Philip demanded, turning on his heel to retreat back in to the Palace. He could stand the sight of his heartbroken sister no longer. He might have appeared cold on the outside, but inside, he was dying… he could feel her pain, and his own as well.
"Philip, don't do this," Brady warned, holding the sobbing Chloe tightly in his arms. "You can't do this Philip."
"I can do whatever the hell I please. Guards, get them into that carriage and get them the hell out of here," Philip ordered. The guards did not hesitate. Michael literally shoved Brady's driver back onto his perch, and Chloe and Brady were ushered, at sword point of course, into the carriage. Philip could still hear Chloe's sobs as the footmen returned to their places, and the carriage began to pull away, turning back onto the path from which it had come. And Brady did not see the devastated look on Philip's face as he glared out the small carriage window at the blur that was Philip as he trudged back into his dank, lonely castle. Although she really could not care less, Cynthia reached out a hand to touch Philip's shoulder in comfort, but he jerked away from her, brushing roughly past her to retreat to the solitude of his chambers. Cynthia grinned mischievously as he walked away, turning her head to watch Brady's carriage as it slowly began to make its sad way back to the mountains, where it would deliver sad news indeed to the people waiting for its return……
The hour had grown very late by the time Brady and Chloe's carriage entered the city. They had not even bothered to stop in the little mountain village for a rest. Neither of them had any appetite, nor did they wish to have any company with others. Chloe had eventually fallen asleep in Brady's arms. Not because she needed sleep in a physical sense of course, but merely because her eyes had grown so tired from crying.
"Where are we going?" Chloe asked. She had been awake the last few hours of the trip, choosing to just lie silently in Brady's arms and stare out the small window. She had just now noticed that they were not heading for the Palace any longer.
"I don't know about you," Brady replied, "but I personally am not ready to go back to the Palace and face anyone just yet." Chloe nodded, sitting up straight, knowing they were going to Brady's cabin instead and would be there shortly. "I thought we could spend the rest of the night in the cabin and head back to the Palace tomorrow." While Chloe had napped, Brady had instructed his driver to take them to the cabin, giving him directions, not to the actual cabin of course, but to the field in front of the secluded, hidden cabin. The carriage pulled into the empty field now and came to a halt.
"Your Majesty, are you sure this is where you wish to be?" The driver asked, peeking his head around and into the carriage's cab which held Brady and Chloe, and giving Brady a very confused, questioning glance.
"Yes, Steven, I am certain," Brady replied. The two other men, Jareth and Henry, opened the carriage door, one offering Chloe a hand to help her down. "You three are free to return to your families now. You can leave the carriage and horses here, I'll take them back to the Palace when I am ready."
"But, Your Majesty, Councilman Wentworth instructed us to alert him immediately when we returned." Brady could tell Steven was worried he would be punished for leaving his King alone, unattended and without weapons in the middle of a field in the outskirts of town. Steven was a simple yet brave man who worried constantly about the well-being of his wife and children.
"You have nothing to worry about, Steven. You answer to me, not to Harold. I will not hold it against you if you carry out my wishes, and neither should anyone else," Brady stated. Steven bowed his head respectfully, jumping down from his perch on the driver's seat of the carriage onto the ground to take his leave.
"As you wish, Your Majesty," Steven replied. The three men turned to take their leave, each having quite a distance to walk before they reached their respective homes.
"And remember," Brady halted them with his words. "You are not to tell anyone where we are. Should anyone ask, you will tell them only that you were carrying out your King's wishes, as any citizen who loved his country would do." All three of them nodded, understanding, and turned again to walk away. They were all loyal men, which of course was why they were chosen to accompany them on this important, but dangerous journey. And not a one of them would reveal Brady's location.
"They will all worry about us, you know," Chloe pointed out as Brady took her hand to lead her to the cabin which was hidden behind the thick bushes from the view of people who did not know the land as soundly as Brady did. "They will most likely assume us dead."
"That might be considered a blessing. If they assumed us dead, perhaps we would finally be allowed some peace," Brady stated solemnly. Chloe did not have to see his face to know he was frowning. The same disappointed, sullen look had been on her own face ever since Philip made his declaration. "We will ease their minds tomorrow. Besides, Steven and the others will undoubtedly inform the council we are alright. They will not reveal where we are, but they will be too fearful of the council's wrath to not at least inform everyone we are alive and well… or, alive at least." Brady led Chloe through the rest of the field and into the hidden clearing. It was dark of course, although the twinkling stars and full moon helped light the way. But then, Brady did not really need the light to move around this place, his true home.
"What about the carriage? They may put out a search party for us, and if they find the carriage, they will find the cabin," Chloe pointed out as he led her across the wooden-plank bridge over the stream surrounding the house and up the steps.
"I will movie it into the clearing and unhitch the horses once we are settled," Brady replied, pushing the doorway open and revealing the pitch dark house. Brady silently led her inside, seating her on the living room sofa since she wasn't used to the dark house like he was. Without a word, Brady set about lighting candles in the cabin. He had the living room, kitchen, hallway, staircase, and the upstairs bedroom and bathroom illuminated within moments.
"It has been a long day," Brady said as he descended the staircase after lighting up their bedroom. "Why don't you get ready for bed while I take care of the carriage? I'll get us something to eat in the morning. I will need to head into the marketplace to get feed for those horses anyway," Brady stated.
The horses that pulled the carriage had been fed and watered in the little mountain village. But, since they did not stop on the return trip and had no horse feed with them, the tired animals would be starving by tomorrow. Brady would have fed them tonight, but all the markets were of course closed. And he of course could have simply waited and taken the horses back to the stables tomorrow to be fed. But Brady did not plan on leaving the cabin any time soon, and the poor creatures deserved a good meal as soon as possible. Besides, the royal stables kept only the same kind of feed. The animals could use something different. For now, Brady had found two apples in the kitchen. They weren't fresh of course, rather they were sun dried, but they would do.
"Chloe?" Brady inquired when she did not seem to notice he had spoken. She was still seated on the couch, staring off at the dark window in front of her with a blank expression. Brady placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, a worried expression on his face. Chloe looked up at him now and forced a smile, reaching her hand up to squeeze his hand.
"Go on, get the carriage in. I'll be fine," Chloe said. Brady nodded, taking the two apples he found and heading for the door. Chloe stood now, making her way up the stairs to their bedroom.
Twenty minutes later, Brady returned to the cabin. He had taken the carriage into the clearing, and unhitched the horses. He had fed them what little he had and then taken them around the back near the waterfall to drink from the stream. Brady had then tied them up in the clear field area beside the waterfall to keep them from munching or trampling on the flowers around the cabin. Brady ascended the staircase, opening the door to his bedroom, expecting to find Chloe either in bed or brushing her hair at the vanity mirror. But she was nowhere in sight.
"Chloe?" Brady called into the empty, illuminated bedroom. No answer. Brady stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him. He knew she was not downstairs. He would have seen her if she had been anywhere down there. The bathroom door had been left slightly ajar, and Chloe's torn burgundy dress hung on a hook on the inside of the door. "Chloe?" Brady called into the bathroom. But still no answer. Then he heard it. A soft sigh, followed by a muffled, choked sniffling sound as if someone was trying desperately to hold back a sob. The balcony door was also slightly ajar, so Brady approached it, knowing Chloe must be out there.
There he found her, standing alone against the balcony railing, staring up blankly at the stunning night sky. The full moon and bright twinkling stars illuminated her pale skin, and even though the light also showed the puffiness around her eyes more clearly, she was more stunning than the perfect, cloudless night sky. She was dressed only in her slip now. She really hadn't the energy to look for something that fit her comfortably in the clothes that Brady's sister had left in the cabin. The spare blanket from the bathroom counter was wrapped around her to quell the chill of the night breeze. Her hair hung loose around her, dancing around her face carelessly. She had not even bothered to brush out the curls, so her hair was left wild and free for the wind to do with it what it would.
She did not turn to face him, nor did she even seem to acknowledge his presence. But Chloe knew he was there. Brady approached her, wrapping his arms around her from behind in a comforting, supportive gesture. Chloe broke down again then, though this time not as violently as when she had wept openly in Brady's arms at Philip's Palace. Tears streamed down her cheeks where she swore she had no tears left to shed, but she allowed Brady's embrace to give her a strength only he could provide.
"Please don't cry," Brady whispered pleadingly, holding her protectively to him. With each tear she shed, another part of him died. It killed him to see her in such pain, so destroyed. It killed him all over again to have to bear the knowledge that he could do nothing to ease her suffering. Brady could not just feed her a lie about everything working out in the end. He couldn't tell her everything would be alright. Nothing would be quite the same now.
Chloe had lost the last hope she had today. Philip, the only family she had left in the world, had taken her offerings of peace and love and spit on them. He had taken her hope, her very faith in humanity, away from her and thrown it down on the cold ground without a moment's regret when he ripped the Mucchean symbol off her dress. That pain could not be taken away with a few meaningless, false words. She would be lucky if she ever got over the cruelty which had been bestowed upon her today. There was a long, hard road ahead for them, they both knew that.
"I can not stand to see you cry," Brady whispered, not knowing what else to say.
"Brady, what are we going to do?" Chloe asked, attempting to calm her sobs. She hated this, hated not being able to stop these wretched tears. Chloe could not even remember crying this much the first time Lord Paul had beaten her. But truthfully, Chloe would have rather taken a physical beating from Lord Paul than the verbal abuse and cruel accusations from her dear twin brother. Lord Paul meant nothing to her; Philip, on the other hand, had been her entire existence for the first eight years of her young life. She was no longer crying now, but the evidence of her latest outbreak of tears still remained.
"I don't know, Chloe. I just don't know," Brady replied sadly. "But whatever happens next… we will face it together. I promise you that."
"Don't make promises you can't keep," Chloe said, a chilling, bitter bite entering her tone. She had not forgotten about the armed guards which Brady had failed to mention he was taking along with them. She knew he knew what she would say to that. Chloe did not want to dwell on it. She knew in her heart that Brady was a good man, and had only wanted to protect her and himself, though not for his own safety, but for the well-being of his people. But, she had grown up, at least for a time, in a family that was known to cheat and lie, especially to their own kin. A Kiriakis trusted no one, a lesson she should have remembered before embarking on this pointless mission to reunite herself with her long lost brother. Chloe could not bear the thought of Brady keeping this from her, least they end up with the kind of relationship her parents Katherine and Victor had endured. She had made the mistake of keeping her true identity from Brady in the beginning, but she did not want such things to go on any longer.
"I do intend to keep that promise," Brady returned sternly. He turned her in his arms to face him, and she could see for a brief moment a hint of anger and hurt in his eyes. But when he saw her tear-stained face up close, his eyes softened and any resentment he felt about her statement faded as quickly as it originated. He began to stroke her cheek with the pad of his thumb, wiping away a few stray tears. "No one short of Death itself is going to separate me from you, as long as you will have me. I can not promise you I will always be at your side. I can not control when God, or whoever it may be that decides such things, decides that it is my time. But, as long as He sees fit to leave me on this earth, I am going to remain by your side. I love you too much to let you go again."
"I know you do," Chloe sighed, turning once again to look out over the balcony railing, Brady's hands still resting on her slender hips.
"Chloe… about the guards…" Brady knew her, even if they had only been in each other's company for a short time. He knew what she was thinking, and he knew that she was not happy with his decision.
"Brady, don't," Chloe interrupted, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter. What's done is done. I understand you have certain obligations that require you to take every step necessary to insure your safety and thus the safety of your people. Let's just leave it as it is, and not mention it again." Chloe was used to burying her own thoughts and feelings deep inside. She was just too tired, both mentally and physically, to discuss it tonight. And to dwell on the subject long enough to allow them to discuss it later would be more painful than the actual act itself. "I think I am going to go to bed now. Are you coming?" Brady shook his head, removing his hands from around her and moving to the side, taking his own place looking out over the railing.
"No. I think I will stay out here for a time yet. Enjoy the cool breeze and the night sky. I'll come inside when I'm ready, and I'll try not to wake you," Brady replied. Chloe nodded and silently made her way back inside their bedroom, closing the balcony door behind her. Brady rested his hands on the cold iron railing, peering down at the dark ground below, a sad expression on his face, and an even deeper sadness bearing down on his soul. Chloe was only a few feet away, just now climbing into the bed they would share. But, no matter how close she was physically, Brady never felt such a chilling, distressing distance between them…..
Blood. Everywhere, there was blood. Deep scarlet red pools of it, engulfing the land of Nero and staining it red. Dark storm clouds were rolling in from the east. Lightning cracked violently, racking the land with horrid, frightening sounds. No… it was not just lightening. There was something else…
Suddenly, two swords clashed together below her, and the blood pools engulfing the land became bodies. Dead bodies that were littering a battlefield. Everywhere there was death, and blood, and fire. The castle was burning. Faces of dying men were all blank and blurred together as one… She could not tell who was who. Swords clashing, men screaming, the deafening pounding of war horses' hooves pounding on the blood soaked ground, bones cracking… All the sounds that make even the most hardened of war veterans cringe or cry out in their sleep, all clashing together in the mass of destruction. All the while, she could hear a whirling sound. Not loud, of course, but the death and fierce lightning played second fiddle to the mysterious noise. Along with the whirling sound that stood out among the other muffled and confused noises, she could hear a heartbeat. Fast and furious at first was this beating heart. But gradually, the sound began to slow; the heart still beat, but almost as if in slow motion.
The whirling sound gave way to a sickening crunch, and one man fell. One man whose face stuck out among the others. And she was allowed to see this first face, as the slow motion beating heart stopped altogether. Harold, with an arrow in his back that went straight through his noble heart.
Now, a cry of anguish sounded out above all the others. Swords clashed, faceless men fell, as another who stood out forced his way on foot through the battling crowd. A horse reared up on its hind legs with a loud neigh, possibly more chilling and frightening than a human war cry. This war horse's owner, the third to stand out among the crowd of hundreds, sounded out his own fierce war cry before charging for the other who was on foot. The horseman's blade was raised high, and with one swift thrust, made contact with the man on foot's neck, slicing his head off like a warm knife to butter. And the severed head rolled with nauseating thuds over the bloody ground because of the sheer force of the blow as the body fell. As the head came to a stop among the littering of corpses, she was allowed to see the second face which had stood out among all the others. Michael, his eyes wide and his mouth twisted in a final painful cry.
The whirling returned, the same kind of nerve-racking sound as before. And the heartbeat started out slow this time, pounding louder and louder with each passing second. Out of nowhere, an arrow appeared, penetrating the heart of the horse which carried the man who had been Michael's end. The horse reared, bucking its owner off onto the ground below. The horse fell over in its dying panic, pinning its wounded owner down against the ground and leaving him vulnerable. All the while the heartbeat got louder and slower. A faceless solider approached and, with a strange cry, drove his blade into the chest of the man who had killed Michael. And now, as the slow, loud heartbeat came to a screeching halt, she was allowed to see the face of the third person who had stood out among the others. Rex, the enemy's blade sticking out of his chest, pinned helplessly under his slain horse.
A new whirling sound began to be heard over the mayhem, this one somehow different from the last. A new heartbeat began to sound, fast, furious, and irregular, unlike the heartbeats before. The scene with Rex and Michael faded to that of another, where a fourth face stood out among the crowd. This man had no sword, and was helping a woman up off the ground who had been unfortunate enough to find her way into this strange, destructive, almost causeless battle. This new whirling gave way to the sickening sound of bones cracking and shattering, and the man trying to help the woman fell. And, as the heartbeat faded, this one slower than the ones before as if the death took longer, she was allowed to see the last face which had stuck out among the crowd. Shawn, blood trickling down his chin from his crimson red lips, a dagger in his back which had penetrated his lungs.
The color faded from the entire scene, leaving only the color of blood which had been cruelly spilt over the once beautiful land of Nero. The sounds of swords clashing, people dying, buildings burning… all began to fade until there was nothing. Only a silent, colorless battlefield remained, the faceless creatures still fighting on in horrendous silence. But the sounds of the raging storm still remained.
Up on the eastern hilltop stood a lone figure. Dark storm clouds swirled behind her, and lightning flashed around her. All the darkness seemed to radiate from her, as if she alone was cause to the mayhem below her.
Silhouetted by the dark storm clouds, and in full color, stood Chloe, dressed in a tattered, blood stained burgundy dress--the same dress she had worn in front of Philip. One sleeve was of course missing where Philip had torn it, while the other was now shredded, leaving only bits and pieces of it on Chloe's arm. The long burgundy dress was torn in all sorts of places, and one solitary gash in the dress across her stomach stood out among all the other small and large tears. Chloe's cheek was smeared with fresh blood, and her eyes were wild and fiery. Those eyes were more frightening now than the raging storm behind her, as she watched the battle below. And in her hand, which was soaked in fresh blood, was a sword covered in blood from tip to hilt. Slowly, the color began to fade from her as well. Her tattered dress and wild, free hair turned white as snow, and her pale skin became paler still.
The sounds of the raging storm began to fade as well, until there was no sound and no color, except that of the blood which soiled her now white dress and pale skin. There was, however, color within something she had not noticed before. Chloe's wedding ring rested in full color on her right ring finger.
And suddenly, the ring slipped off her dirty, blood-stained finger, falling in slow motion to the ground below, where it clattered to the ground next to her bare right foot with a deafness that sounded louder than anything else she had heard before it. And from where the ring landed, a pool of blood began to form. When the puddle got too large, it began to spread, making its way with disturbing slowness down the hilltop, staining everything it touched red, and turning it all to dust. And surely, if no one stopped it, the crimson blood would engulf the entire land of Nero and turn everything and everyone within the once great city to dust….
Chloe awoke with a jolt, bolting up into a sitting position. She could see nothing. Nothing except darkness and blood. But as her mind caught up with her body and she remembered where she was, Chloe calmed herself. The room was dark because it was not quite yet morning. And there was a haze to the room, which Chloe had imagined was red simply because of the graphic nature of her nightmare, because a few rays of light were beginning to slowly stream in through the window curtains and reflect off dust particles in the air.
Once she was aware of her surroundings, Chloe's hands immediately traveled to her right ring finger. Of course it was bare. Brady had taken her engagement ring back to the royal jewelers before they left for Mucche to have the sapphire set and the final engravings done. When her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, Chloe looked down to see she was still in her slip, covered by a blanket and wrapped in the safety of Brady's bed. She turned now to his side of the bed to face him, finding that he had not been awoken by her sudden jolt. But he was not sleeping soundly either. He had not been disturbed from his sleep, but he had a vexed, uneasy look on his handsome face.
Chloe hesitantly lay back down, taking only slight comfort in knowing he was beside her. After such a disturbing dream, Chloe could not see how it would be possible for her to go back to sleep. Something bad was coming. She knew it. Chloe could feel it in the pit of her stomach. This had not just been a mere random nightmare. Trouble, and hardship, were on their way to pay them all a visit. And Chloe could only lay awake and pray for someone to watch over them, to insure that the destructive consequences of Chloe's nightmare, its origins and reasons unknown, from ever coming to pass……