It was teetering more precariously than the relations between Iceland and Artemisia, but it was an agreement nonetheless.
Several guards, most of which would be joining Thorne and Ram on their little excursion, loaded crates of supplies onto the ship they arrived in. Though smaller than those meant to carry so many people, the speeder preferred racing to travel – as did Thorne. He could barely contain his excitement to sit behind its commands once again without the pestering supervision of his nagging companion.
That was the agreement – he would search for Cinder if Ram let him pilot.
He suspected his advisor was still wary he might lead them around in circles to avoid searching for his bland fiancé, but had the mind to keep quite. The thought passed through Thorne's mind more than once, as did the thought of Cinder being lost in the snow-blanketed wild that lay just outside the castle walls. Frail little pip would starve herself in less than a week – if she didn't catch hypothermia first.
As much as he loathed their engagement, knowing that she died without his assistance in her search was too heavy a weight for his shoulders. It was times like these when he damned his gentlemanly nature usually pushed into the back of his mind.
"We have enough supplies for at least a week in the mountains." Ram went over the details of their situation for the third time, still hovering over a clipboard that he had checked and rechecked with every scanner his programming contained. "Advisor Torin has offered us ten palace guards and the means to call reinforcements if necessary."
"I don't see how taking along additional men is going to help us on this mission," Thorne sighed. After a slight pause, he let a smile curl on his lips from the memory of the words. Mission, just like from his days as a soldier.
Ram stayed quiet in response, scanning around them for nearby guards. Before speaking again, he leaned in close to Thorne's ear with a tone meant to straighten every hair on his body. It worked.
"While I won't speak my concerns openly because of the limited amount of people who know the truth, the fact still remains that King Garan and Queen Adri were murdered. Who – or what – ever was responsible is out there somewhere and I will not put you in danger even if I do approve of you searching for your fiancé."
Although he appreciated his friend's apprehension on his account, being treated as a child was not in his nature. Staring danger in its ugly eyes, taking risks that some – well, most – could call reckless, and coming out as the mighty hero; that was who Prince Carswell Thorne was inside and out.
"You worry too much," he voiced seeing the approach of the woman with Advisor Torin and Princess Winter earlier. His charismatic grin fell into a look of puzzlement when he saw her flustered appearance up close.
Ripe cheeks lit up her face as if terrorized by the bitter cold and turned as crimson as her round nose. Her hair, originally fastened tightly behind her head in a plump bun, came apart with every step she took towards them. Wild eyes and an askew apron told Thorne this woman was frazzled for a good and most disturbing reason.
"Miss Iko?" Ram inquired, offhandedly reminding Thorne of the woman's name. "What seems to be the matter?"
Taking two thick heaves of breath, she bowed clumsily before answering, "It is of the upmost importance that any guards you are not taking with you return to the palace immediately. And that you leave as soon as your ship would allow."
"Whatever for?" Thorne scoffed, annoyed at being rushed.
If she noticed his rudeness, her mind was too preoccupied to bother with it. "We've just received word that an ambassador from Artemisia is on his way here."
The air temperature dived ten degrees lower at her ice-cold words, freezing both Prince Throne and his advisor in their spots. A few of the nearest soldiers that caught wind of their conversation dropped the wooden crates of supplies into the wet slush on the ground. Thorne's mind could barely process their presence as he tried combing through the knotted mess presented before him.
Someone from the not-so far off world of the moon would step on Earth soil very soon. He would be a loyal servant to the woman responsible for the destruction of more than half his country. That person would be there to torment the rulers of the surviving countries in the hopes of complete domination.
Why?!
Ram recovered first, to no one's surprise. "You heard her," he ordered, addressing the loitering guards. "Return to your posts. The rest of you prepare for immediate departure."
With nods and salutes, they followed every word of the fierce android. His voice ringed with authority and the experience of a commander who had both conquered many victories and lost many battles. The guards, many of whom were young and without experience, yearned to please the voice of someone with such an admirable tone.
Ram turned to his prince, still cemented in place from the shock of Miss Iko's words. "Why would any of them come here?" he whispered.
Though he could tell Prince Thorne craved an answer, he could also hear the faint remnants of denial scratching the back of his throat. "There have been ambassadors visiting the royalty of the surviving countries since the second strike. Many consider it Queen Levana's third strike."
Ram explained, "These ambassadors arrive during a country's most dire times to try and persuade them to join Artemisia. They stay for however long they feel is necessary, spouting sweet nonsense and whatever other lies they conjure up. Most of the time the visits are false attempts to try and find out a country's weakness."
The words sounded too knowing to Thorne's ears so he asked, "Did they ever come to Greenland?"
Unable to meet the expectant gaze of his prince, the android averted his eyes in shame. "When you were still at the academy. Your parents wanted to keep you ignorant of Artemisian presence here on Earth so they didn't inform you of the visit. Her name was Sybil Mira."
"My programming won't let me forget her sickening voice," he scowled with a grim look as he began losing his composure, something Thorne had never seen him do before. "She spoke with this plastered smile always on her face even when she was making threats. Like rotten honey, her words rang hollow and cruel while she tried sounding pleasant."
"She stayed nearly a month without any progress from your parents. Every morning I told myself that would be the day she left, but she never did. Instead of growing tired of your parents' refusals she treated it like a game and made the decision to add an interesting twist. Her threats, however cruel, had originally gone without seriousness on both ends. Then one day your parents found one of the servants hanging on the wall with nails in her hands."
Bile rose into Throne's throat as am image filled his mind, only worsened by Ram's continuation. "She was screaming and crying out that she was loyal to the Snow Queen, even after they managed to get her down. There were some other instances too – carving the Luna Family Crest into maids' hands as they slept, burning the tips of their hair to make it dark like the Queen's – all with Sybil Mira's signature on them."
"What happened?" Thorne asked quietly after swallowing the sickness upturning his stomach.
"Your parents did what she expected – they retaliated. She was thrown in the dungeon, found guilty of her crimes, and executed. What they didn't realize was the Queen wanted them to do something like that so she could retaliate. A handful of her soldier's stormed the castle the next day and," he paused, looking sympathetically in Thorne's direction. "Had her own execution."
Closing his eyes, Thorne took a deep breath as the memory washed over him. Joking around with his comrades in the mess hall after another exhilarating day of flight simulations. He crashed his again of course, and again it was intentionally to annoy his superiors. In his opinion, that hardly merited a visit to the commanding officer's office, however, that was where he found himself.
When they told him the news, he refused to believe them. Only two hours later, when he stood over their veiled bodies in lavish caskets, did he realize how much of his world he lost. Grieving for his parents only occupied half his mind as he took on the role of leader of his country, only to be coordinated after his marriage with Cinder.
He remembered her at the funeral, still on the short-side for being fourteen and uncomfortable being praised as princess. Staying close to her mother's side, the only time they even made contact was when her parents approached for their official condolences. Dryly thanking them with bland distaste at being put on display, he prayed they would not ask her to stay with him for the rest of the evening. He was in no mood to even act civil toward her at that time.
Unlike her parents – and even younger sister who wasn't entirely aware of the situation – Cinder said nothing as she curtsied. Before leaving to join the mourners once again, she lingered long enough to touch a delicate hand on his shoulder. Her look overflowed with sympathy, not false like many of the others attending the funeral, but genuinely sorry for his loss. She knew he didn't need false words of consolidation, but understanding.
For that he was grateful, and now he would finally repay the favor.
"Let's board the ship," he ordered Ram with a composed voice. "We'd better get lost before the ambassador gets here."
With a nod and slight relief that Thorne was back to himself, the advisor left to give the ship a last once-over. Thorne stayed in place trying to shake himself completely free of the dark memories plaguing his focus. Another thought pestered his mind, one he latched onto in hopes it would distract him from returning into his past.
His train of thought kept traveling back to the box sitting on King Garan's desk, concealed by the mess of papers expertly filed on top of it. The way it hid beneath most of the King's other possessions, in his study where Thorne doubted many others were allowed before his death, had the sense of a secret. Something Cinder or Princess Winter might not even known about.
Most of the time the visits are false attempts to try and find out a country's weakness.
Words nagging at his conscious, he called to Ram before he could change his mind. "I'll be there in a minute. There's something I have to get."
Hello everyone! It has been awhile, but for good reason! I have written several chapters ahead of posting so future updates will be sooner.
Thorne shows a bit of his tender side, Cress would be so proud :)
A huge thank you to Cheesehead101 and Malika DaughterOfWisdom who both encouraged me to update sooner. I persistently wrote future chapters for quicker updates, thanks to you two.
Thanks to everyone reading and reviewing! I hope to continue seeing you in future chapters!