Chapter Thirty-Three
What was I thinking? There is no way this will all work out.
I growl as I crumple up another piece of paper and throw it into a nearby rubbish bin. I've been staying at the Sunset Hotel for nearly a month. I've met with the guard from the castle, and Hayner has gotten a number of other people willing to help, but besides that, we've made zero progress. We have no plan on how to infiltrate the castle, and I have no plan on how to find and take out Larxene. She's always been a good fighter. The only thing I was better at was piano and painting, neither of which I can exactly use to defeat her. I was pretty good at archery, but it's been a long time since I've practiced, and I have no bow.
I explain all of this during a meeting with the castle guard one late October afternoon. At the end of my spiel, I put my face in my hands, completely exasperated. He's silent for a moment.
"Where was your bow last?" he finally asks.
"In my room," I say, my voice muffled by my hands.
"Then it's still there." I snap my head up, a question on my lips, but he continues. "After you were taken, your siblings never emptied your room. They just shut the door. No one's been in since." I ponder this for a minute before sighing and shaking my head.
"It won't do any good. Even if I could get into the castle and get a hold of it, I'm so out of practice it would be useless," I grumble.
"I'll try to smuggle it out," he says. I shake my head.
"Too dangerous," I mutter.
"I'm willing to risk it."
"I'm not," I say, louder than I intend. Immediately, I drop my voice back down. "If you get caught, you get killed, and I still don't have a weapon. The cons outweigh the pros."
"We'll see," he says quietly before hurrying out of the hotel. I try to follow him out, protesting, but he disappears in the crowd. I groan loudly up at the sky, stomp my feet in frustration and stalk back into the hotel.
Two weeks later, Hayner walks into my room with a large package. My heart somersaults.
"What's that, Hayner?" I ask, trying not to get my hopes up. He shrugs.
"Dunno. It just got dropped off for you," he says, handing me the package. I rip open the brown paper to find my bow and a quiver of arrows. There's a note on top, and I pick it up and read it quickly. It only contains three words:
Get to practicing.
I grin, hope fluttering in my stomach.
I flop down on my bed, exhausted. My arms and shoulders are sore, but I can't help but smile. It hasn't been easy getting back into practice, and a number of my arrows are still off the mark, but there's been significant improvement since the day I got my bow back. If I keep practicing daily till the New Year, I think I have a pretty good chance of making all of this quick and easy.
Hayner chooses this moment to burst into my room, waving a newspaper.
"You might want to read this," he announces, shoving the paper under my nose. I scramble to grab it and straighten it out, trying to squelch my feelings of annoyance at Hayner.
"Hayner, what is-"
"Just read it!" he shouts, sounding panicked. I turn my eyes to the paper and read:
Tension has been mounting between ours and the neighboring kingdom, and it appears everything is about ready to reach a boiling point. A very reliable source has informed this journalist King Weatherly is planning to initiate war between the kingdoms in an attempt to expand the reach of his rule. The King and his advisors will be meeting at the end of November to make a final decision on this matter.
I drop the paper into my lap and stare at the ceiling. I drape my arm over my eyes and take a few steadying breaths through my nose. Despite this, I can't bring myself to calm down. I sit up quickly, ball the paper up violently and throw it across the room with a half-groan-half-scream. This not being enough, I jump onto my feet and pace the room.
"We're screwed. We are so screwed. There's no way I can take over the kingdom in the middle of a war. The neighboring kingdom will just see it as an opportunity to knock me down. If we do anything, it has to be before they start organizing troops, but that doesn't give us nearly enough time to prepare! The end of November is in two and half weeks!" I shout. I fall back onto the bed, facedown, feeling defeated. "Axel was right," I say into the pillow, but I know Hayner can't hear me.
Saying his name aloud sends a jolt of pain through me, adding to my feelings of despair. I suddenly can't handle having Hayner in the room. I lift my head so he can hear me but can't see the tears in my eyes.
"Hayner, let's talk about this later, alright? I need some time to think," I say quietly.
"Alright," he says simply before walking out. I bury my face back into the pillow and, without warning, start sobbing violently. It's official; I've lost. I've lost my family. I've lost my kingdom. I've lost my home, my pride, my dignity. I've lost the man I love. I've lost everything, and it is the absolute worst feeling I've ever felt.
I continue wallowing in my own self-pity for a while, but I eventually lose the energy to continue crying. My violent, heaving sobs have finally dissipated into pathetic little hiccups and shuddery breaths. I roll over and clutch the pillow to my chest in an attempt to squash the feelings of depression aching in my chest.
Finally, my eyes dry up and my breathing returns to normal. A headache pulses through my head and makes it feel ten times larger than normal. My nose is stuffed up, my body is sore, and my eyelids feel heavy. I close them and am asleep within minutes.
"Mommy! Mommy!" a seven-year-old me shouts while running into the living room. I hurry to my mom, tears streaming down my face. She scoops me up into her lap and cradles me against her chest.
"What's wrong, Iris?" she asks while smoothing my hair down.
"L-L-Lars p-p-p-pushed me d-down!" I wail, holding my little scraped up hands to her face. My dad looks up from his newspaper on the other side of the room.
"Well why didn't you push her back?" he asks seriously.
"Honey!" my mom hisses.
"I'm serious," he says before re-directing to me. "If someone is pushing you around, Iris, you can't just give up and let them. Sometimes, you need to fight back."
"B-b-but she's b-bigger than m-me," I sniffle. My dad folds his paper up and sets it in his lap.
"She is," he agrees. "But there are going to be a lot of people and even groups of people who try to bully you, and a lot of them will be bigger than you. You have to hold your ground, though, and try your absolute best to stand up for yourself, understand?" I wipe my nose across my arm and nod before looking up to my mom.
"Sh-she's still g-getting in trouble, right?" I ask. Both of my parents smile.
"Yes, baby, she is," my mom says.
When I wake up, I just know the flashback dream was sent to me from my parents. I smile slightly as my father's encouraging words continue ringing in my ears.
"You're still getting in trouble, Lars," I whisper into the darkness.