Well, I've only gotten one-two reviews on each of the things I've uploaded, and yes, I appreciate them, but I still feel zero motivation and I'll probably end up leaving again but oh well.
I don't usually update unless I get four reviews on the last chapter, but I don't even have four readers anymore so here.
This is a pretty sucky chapter that I just forced myself to write the other day even though I didn't want to. I don't want to write any of these stories...
"J, are you okay?" Mara asked, gently resting her hand on his shoulder.
Jerome held up his hand and she placed hers in it, entwining their fingers. "I will be."
Mara scooted closer to him and leaned her cheek against his shoulder, following his gaze out into the streets of Legayn. "Poppy didn't want to come home?"
"No. I think this has been hardest on her." Jerome murmured.
"She avoided me at the funeral."
"You weren't the only one. I'm just trying to give her space."
Mara tightened her grip on Jerome's hand briefly, before he suddenly dropped her hand and ordered the driver to stop the coach. He opened the door and stepped down to the cobblestone road, commanding the guards to arrest someone.
"Jerome, what are you doing?"
He turned back to his wife before she could follow him. "Stay there, Mara."
"What's going on?" Mara questioned without taking another step.
"Joy's here."
"Jerome, calm down. You're scaring her to death." Mara said, pulling him to the other side of the room.
Joy stood before the thrones in the palace, her wrists bound in chains.
"She's a witch!" Jerome hissed.
"How can you be certain it's her? We destroyed the witch's amulet, remember?"
"She was powerful. What if she expected us to find a way to kill her? What if she had a way to…resurrect herself? What if someone else brought her back? Like that man that my parents were so afraid of?"
"That was quite a few 'what ifs,' J," Mara sighed.
"If I let her go, and she is the witch, she'll probably bury our kingdom."
"If you keep her here and she's not the witch, you'll be holding an innocent woman here against her will. There's no proof she's the witch. That's not the kind of king you want to be is it?"
Jerome took a deep breath and carded a hand through his thick hair as he cast a glance back at Joy. "What are you thinking, darling?"
Mara's expression softened. "The witch's version of Joy was fake—a duplicate—which could mean that the real Joy had never come in contact with me, you, or the witch."
Jerome nodded, silently telling her to continue.
"Can I ask her a question or two of my own?"
"Of course, my love," Jerome stepped aside and Mara walked up to the young lady in custody.
"I'm sorry for my husband's brashness, Joy. He just lost his parents. He's a little stressed." Mara said softly.
Joy smiled a little at Mara and nodded in understanding.
"Do you mind if I ask you what you're doing in Legayn?"
Joy sucked in a shaky breath. "I'm caring for a friend. He fell ill shortly after arriving."
"Have you ever seen Jerome or myself before today?"
"No, Princess, I—I've never been in Legayn before Monday."
Mara looked over her shoulder and met Jerome's eyes. He took a step closer, reluctantly. "Release her," he ordered the guard standing a couple feet away. He faced Joy. "Please forgive the inconvenience and my rude behavior. I had mistaken you for someone my wife and I had crossed paths with a long time ago. I hope this incident hasn't soured your impression of Legayn."
Joy rubbed her skin when the shackles fell from her wrists. "Apology accepted, Your Highness. I understand that you were just protecting your family."
Jerome didn't say anymore as she was ushered from the throne room. When he and Mara were the only ones left in the massive, open space, he collapsed into what used to be his mother's throne and covered his face with his hands. "I'm so sorry, Mara."
"There is no need to apologize, J." She assured him, dropping to her knees before the throne and placing one hand on one of his knees while the other pried his hands away from his face.
"I can't do this—" he gasped out "—I can't be king. I'm not ready."
"Darling," Mara whispered, swiping her thumb beneath his eye to catch a fallen tear. "Don't doubt yourself because of one mistake."
Poppy started when a hand laid upon her shoulder as she sat on her knees in the royal crypt that was hidden in the hills north of the village. She looked up at the person behind her and shot up off the floor immediately. "Dante…"
"I came as soon as I heard. I am so sorry, Poppy." Dante whispered into her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her tightly.
"They were assassinated…and I don't even remember it happening." She wept, clinging to him, fisting her hands in his cloak.
"Maybe it is best you do not remember."
"How did you get here so fast?" Poppy asked once her tears had stopped falling, and they were just sitting in the crypt together. "No one knew for several days after it happened. A trip from Cenizas would've taken a few days longer."
Dante let out a breathy laugh that ghosted across Poppy's neck. "You caught me. I was meeting with the King of Idon when I was told."
"Oh, you're coronation was last week!" Poppy realized. "I'm so sorry I couldn't be there for you. It must have been the best moment of your life and I wasn't there."
"You will be with me for many more 'best moments' of my life, love." Dante smiled. "Do not apologize. I understand that you were needed here."
Mick rapped his knuckles against the wooden desk to wake the inn keeper behind it. The old man stirred and opened one eye to size the bodyguard up. "What do you want?"
"I need your best room for the Queen of Sirius."
"Your queen's name means nothing here, boy. Get lost."
Mick expected such an answer and dropped a bag of coins onto the desk. "Your finest room, please. Now."
The man perked up at the sound of coins clinking against coins and swiped the bag off the wood. "Come with me."
Mick motioned for Nina to go first and they followed the inn keeper up a flight of stairs and into a hallway. He opened one of the doors, told them to enjoy their stay, and began walking away, but Mick caught his shoulder.
"This is your finest room, sir?" Mick asked in a low voice.
The chubby inn keeper swallowed and closed the door, leading them to a different one. This door led to a set of stairs. "This is a room reserved for our noblemen. But I suppose I can make an exception, just this once." He said.
"Thank you," Nina smiled, trailing after Mick to the door at the top of the wooden steps.
Nina instantly walked up to a barrel of water and filled a pot with it before stoking a fire in the iron stove. "Let me clean your wounds. They'll get infected if you leave them any longer."
"Don't worry, Highness. I'll be fine. Get some rest." Mick replied, making his way back to the door.
"That's an order, Mick." Nina sighed tiredly.
Mick froze with his fingers wrapped around the cool metal handle. He faced her again, slowly. "As you wish, My Queen."
He took a seat on the bed when she instructed him to do so and removed his dirty tunic.
When the water had warmed enough, Nina carried the pot to the bed, setting it on the floor. She dipped her handkerchief in the water and rung it out. Mick tensed when she placed her hand on his shoulder.
"I haven't done anything yet." Nina chuckled.
"Your hands are cold," he replied after a beat of silence.
"I'm sorry," she said, gently dabbing the cloth on the cuts on her back. "What...what are all these scars from?"
The corners of Mick's lips quirked up a little. "I've collected some souveniers over the years as your bodyguard."
Nina's eyebrows furrowed and she touched the back of his head. She removed her fingers when he hissed in pain. "You have quite the goose egg back there."
"Besides a minor headache, it doesn't bother me."
Nina didn't say anything else as she pulled a small shard of wood from his skin.
"If you don't mind me asking, Highness, how do you know how to do this?"
"I watched my mother patch up my father more times than I can count." She laughed lightly at the memory. "My father was such a baby, he hated letting the nurses see him whine about any kind of pain. There all finished."
"Thank you, Your Majesty. Now, please get some sleep."
Nina laid down in the bed, watching Mick pull his tunic on over his strong shoulders as he left the room so he could stand outside the door, to protect like he always has.
Check out the "Second Chances" board on Pinterest (tryingtobreathe) and let me know what you think of the characters, or tell me who you pictured as the characters! :)
"Bring the fire, bring the smoke, bring the rain. We will bend, but we will never break. If we believe we can't lose, even mountains will move. It's my faith, it's my life. This is our battle cry!" -Battle Cry, Skillet
-Rachel