"No, they wouldn't…" Elena started, trailing off at the serious look on her father's face. They'd been set up? What did that even mean? Had the Salvatores orchestrated the death of their own child as a way to rightfully attack the castle? Nothing made sense. Only twenty-four hours prior she'd been sword fighting with their elder son and dancing with their youngest. The kings had been toasting one another while the queens talked about signing a new treaty for the following decade. When and where had everything taken such a turn for the worst and how had no one noticed?
Stefan treated everyone with kindness, and even though he often made fun of Elena for her obvious crush on his older brother, they'd still been thicker than thieves for more than a decade. Everyone had known that they'd eventually wed to form a stronger union between the two countries. Now that was not only impossible, but it seemed that no union could repair the wide rift that appeared out of nowhere between the two kingdoms.
Elena, aggravated and not exactly thinking about her place in all of this, clenched her fists at her sides and made eye contact with her father. "I want to talk to Damon," she said, sending all of her confidence into those few words. If she could just speak with him, for only a moment, maybe everything could be pieced back together. Certainly, Damon faced the same confusion she did. Maybe he could get through to Giuseppe on their behalf. They'd always understood each other. That didn't disappear overnight.
"He doesn't wish to speak with you," said the King sternly. Remembering himself, he cleared his throat and looked at her with a kind eye. "I'm sorry."
The Queen waived Elena over, pulling her daughter close to her chest. "This is hard for all of us, my dear," she explained. "We've all lost friends in this sudden siege. But we'll figure it out, of that I am certain."
Jeremy, crossed arms and a blank expression—as if he focused on nothing else but the problem at hand, easily removing all feeling from the matter—said, "There is nothing left to figure out, and we're fooling ourselves by thinking there's any saving this alliance. Like Father said, they set us up. They poisoned their own son and placed the blame on our heads."
Elena detached from her mother and shook her head vehemently as if she could dismiss the reality of his words. He continued, glaring at his baby sister as he uttered the words, "King Giuseppe killed his son."
Grayson cleared his throat. "We don't know that for certain."
"They had their entire military force waiting to strike, hiding out only hours from our doorstep!" Jeremy yelled, some emotion finally showing on his face. Not grief, but anger. "The Zicon King killed his son to wage a war on us that he must have always wanted. Why else now?"
"You think they've been planning this for—how long?" Elena asked, meek. Her own emotions manifesting as fear, sadness, and still most of all: grief. Grief for her fallen friend but also for the remaining Salvatores. Whether they'd lost them that day or years in the past when their plan had originally come to fruition, the grief dug a hole in her heart all the same.
"Maybe their friendship had been fake all this time," Jeremy said, callous.
She couldn't stomach this, couldn't believe the thought that both brothers had been lying to her for years, that the King and Queen had been lying to her parents in equal measure, that they were all fools for letting themselves be betrayed. Her fingers dug into her palms. "No."
"Just because you want it to be untrue does not make it so," Jeremy said.
Their mother raised a hand then, her palm facing Jeremy, begging him to give it a rest with the motion alone. He let out a long sigh before finally sitting down, face in his hands. The room fell silent around the royal family as they mourned the loss of their friends. For hours, they waited as the ceiling shook above, as sounds of heavily armored soldiers approached the castle. When night finally fell over Miria and the sounds of war had quieted, the royal family slipped from their safe room, each guarded closely as they walked calmly to their rooms to pack quickly for their retreat. For that was the plan the King and Queen had decided upon. Retreat. They would not fight back against their friends, no matter how aggressive the strike had been. They would not fall to the same level as to betray everything they'd built together. In the end, their refusal didn't matter.
"We'll be waiting right here, Your Highness. Please, be swift," one of her guards said after ensuring the quarters were free of danger. They waited in the common room as she packed a small bag in her bedroom. Only the essentials, her mother had been very strict on the matter.
With the trunk open at the foot of her bed, the young Princess had no intention to pack. At least, not yet. As soon as she saw the sun beginning to rise outside her window, her plan had been set into motion. Convincing her guards to wait outside had been easy. After all, she only wore a dressing gown, which would not do for travel no matter the distance they needed to cover. Leaving her to change into something more suitable in peace, she armed herself.
Once dressed in a simple gown with plenty of space for sheathed daggers, she slung her favorite longbow over her back, clipped a quiver of arrows to her belt, and laced up her favorite leather training boots. A gift from her father only the year prior. Oh, how the memories hurt to recall, both families existing in peace on such a joyous day.
Prepared for her mission, she pulled back the large tapestry at the back of the closet and pushed on just the right part of the stone wall. It creaked open, and she prayed the sound would not be heard from the suite's common room. But no guards rushed in after her, so she was free to sneak down the old servant's hall.
Elena knew those pathways like the back of her hand. She could have navigated them blind. Thankfully, there was little light to guide her. Within a few minutes, she'd made it to the ground floor, exited out the kitchen, and was walking across the training fields as the sun peaked over the horizon, about to rise on a new day.
There wasn't much time. But thankfully, her instincts had been correct. Damon Salvatore, clad in full armor, with his sword drawn at his side waited under a willow tree. When she spotted him, she couldn't help herself. Forgetting everything that occurred since they'd last seen each other, she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his cold armor.
Something immediately felt wrong. He did not return the hug, even halfheartedly in the stiff armor. He only said, with a voice stern and cold, "Elena," as he pushed her away from him. For a moment, the world froze around them. Elena searched his eyes, her brows furrowing when she couldn't find what she wished to be there. And Damon, he looked at her as if she were already a hundred miles away. A slash of pain broke through his gaze, however, the world slammed back into motion.
He placed a gloved hand on her cheek and leaned down to speak to her, quietly and quickly. "Elena, you cannot be here. You must leave. Your family, you, the danger you are in—"
His change of tone caught her off guard and she found herself taking steps away from him, looking at her childhood friend in a different light. He no longer looked like the older brother of her friend, the one who'd danced with her, sparred with her, taught her everything she knew about swordplay. No. He looked every bit a soldier now. Blood on his armor. Had he killed?
Cold fingers fumbled for her bow, stringing an arrow clumsily. She pointed the weapon at him, her arms shaking. "Did you know?" The question needed no elaboration.
He cocked his head to the side as if he were taking in an opponent. "Elena, you have to understand—"
She fixed her aim, trying to keep the deep frown from settling on her face, but it was near impossible as the boy only a few years her senior revealed himself as the traitor he was. "I'll shoot," she said, confidence gone from her voice, only leaving behind wavering sadness.
"I don't believe you." He stepped closer to her and her fingers pulled the string back tighter. She couldn't hold it for much longer.
"Did you know?" she said again, forcing the words through clenched teeth. No answer. She let the arrow fly. It went wide, missing him by a foot. She hated the relief she felt in not harming him.
He'd ducked out of the way and regained his composure as she reached for another arrow. He strode forward, grabbing the bow out of her hands. "You need to leave," he said forcefully, pushing back hard against the bow with one hand and her shoulder with another, sending her a few feet away from him.
"Not without answers," she said, hands violently shaking as she tried to string another arrow. It dropped into the mud by her feet. Angry and needing to redeem herself, she cast the longbow off to the side and drew her longsword, previously sheathed on the opposite hip as her quiver. "I want my rematch!" she called, tears welling up in her eyes, but he'd already started walking away, leaving her alone as the sun rose above her, casting her tears in golden light.
PRESENT DAY
The forgotten princess descended the narrow ladder into the dark, with the girl close behind. The only light winked out quickly as the girl pulled the door closed overhead. Elena could hear her brother's voice repeating the same words over and over again in her head, warning her against leaving the safety of their hiding place, warning her about trusting people too easily. She'd broken all the rules he'd put in place for her, rules that had gotten him killed in the end.
She climbed carefully downward with one arm, pain reverberating through the other side of her body as the arrow inched deeper with every slight movement. Blood leaked down her chest, coating the inside of her breastplate with blood.
At the foot of the ladder, her boots met dirt and a damp musty smell clogged her nose. The girl dropped down next to her, skipping the last few rungs, and lit a match. It didn't do much, only cast a glow on both their faces and illuminated a small portion of the space.
What had she been expecting from this child? A well-thought-out escape route? It seemed like a simple basement. At least it could offer safety until the soldiers above grew bored and dispersed. But what would they make of her horse, tied up with no rider to be found? Would they kill him? A shiver ran through her, from the pain and the thought of losing her steed both.
"Wait here," the girl said in a hushed voice, not giving Elena a chance to respond before the flame winked out and darkness took over. She listened closely, trying to identify just what the small girl got up to in the dark, but could only hear the sound of shuffling feet getting further away.
Within a few moments, the room went quiet. Elena took a tentative step as her eyes adjusted to the dark. The cramped basement held various crates and barrels. Simple storage. What lay within them now, and where had the girl gone off to? Had she made a mistake in following the only help offered to her? Would she have been better off facing the soldiers outside? At least then she would have gone down with a fight instead of rotting away in an old, abandoned basement.
Had she even seen the child at all, or did her mind play tricks on her after so many years in hiding? Was this what she deserved for not putting up a fight sooner?
The sound of shuffling feet grew louder once more, and Elena caught the outline of the girl as she crawled out of a small hole at the base of the wall behind a stack of crates that had been pushed to the side.
"Do you need help?" Elena asked, taking a step forward as the child pushed the crates back into place with her entire body. Just as the princess registered a presence behind her and began to turn, the flat side of a sword struck her temple. Strong arms caught her as she fell unconscious.
Light burned through closed eyes and pain took hold of her once more, not just in the shoulder where she could still feel the arrow embedded, but in the developing bump on the side of her head. She woke with a gasp, sitting up too fast and nearly falling unconscious once more. Her eyes fluttered shut as she held a hand up to the growing bump. Where was she? This certainly was not the small basement, but a larger room built from stone.
"What were you thinking, Mimi? Bringing a strange girl down here with you?" a stern voice asked. Elena couldn't bring herself to open her eyes again.
A voice Elena recognized responded. "She needed help," the girl said simply. Before the man could say anything else, the small voice said, "I think she's awake."
Fight or flight instinct, Elena forced her eyes open, scrambling back to the corner of the table she'd been laid out on, reaching for daggers that were no longer there as he approached. The man was tall and broad with short gray hair and a kind face deepened with a few wrinkles. He held his hands up as if to say I won't hurt you, but someone already had and her instincts to fear the people around her were beginning to kick in at full speed. Wouldn't Jeremy be proud?
The man must have sensed her fear, her desire to fight back like a caged animal because he didn't take another step closer. Instead, he lowered to a knee and said, "Look, miss, I am sorry for the precautions we had to take in order to get you down here."
"What is this place?" Elena asked. Speaking felt strange like her mouth was full of blood.
He sighed. "What do you know about what happened to Miria? If you were out there wandering around like my daughter said, you must not be from around here."
Ha! What did she know about what had happened to Miria? She'd lived it, just as these people likely had. But she couldn't just announce her lineage to this stranger. At least that, she knew well enough without having to hear Jeremy's warnings in her head. But how could she learn more about them without giving up a piece of herself?
"I know what happened," she said finally. "I fled ten years ago, as a child." She injected as much sincerity into her voice as she could muster. Even though now, she still felt just as much like a child as she used to. Just as ill-prepared to face the real world. If her family could see her now, would they be disappointed in the person she'd become?
"And you chose to return now, all these years later. Why?" he asked.
Elena's jaw worked, her teeth clenching. So many questions without answers. She knew what she hoped to accomplish, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. She'd almost died in the street above, what good could she do against the crown now?
He placed a hand atop hers and she jerked backward, touch foreign and uncomfortable. For the last ten years, Jeremy had been distant, unfamiliar. At her reaction, he sighed once more. "I just want to make sure introducing you to the people here is not a risk to them or what we've built."
"What you've built?" Elena asked, calming slowly. The streets were empty, homes ruined. She'd assumed all of those people dead or gone, but maybe not? Was there a chance that they lived here, below the city itself?
"Let's get your injuries looked at, and I'll explain everything. Okay?" he asked, gentle in his words. She had a feeling he no longer saw her as a threat.
Elena nodded, letting her head loll back against the wall, her eyes closing once more. She hadn't realized just what a strain it had been to keep them open as long as she had.
A/N: Thank you so much for your patience on this one! Like I mentioned earlier I lost my job and have been having a really tough time, but I'm so happy to be back and writing! I hope you're all still as excited about this story as I am!