Lone Blind Star: Chapter 8 - On These Raging Seas, Called Love
Thanks to his ex-wife, Ingram realises something important. Meanwhile, Cecilia is being held captive by Lord Leon Harrington, where she formulates a new plan.
When Ingram opened his eyes, it felt like the world was spinning. The familiar feeling of Hera's leather couch beneath him both set him at ease and put him off. He felt sick. He leaned over and threw up.
"Really?" Hera got up from her desk and asked for someone to take care of Ingram's mess. She sat on the other couch and leaned back as she lit a long cigarette. "Took you long enough to wake up."
Ingram tried sitting up but his head hurt. Even in the dim light of Hera's room, it was too bright. He glanced over at her vanity, the source of illumination, and managed to spot a pile of money next to her face wipes.
"Right over there," Hera told the custodian who had arrived. They dumped wood chips on the puke, then quickly collected it in a bin. Alone again, Hera told Ingram, "You get some of it, you know. That box on the table's got your cut." She was talking about the money. It didn't take much to piece it all together, even in this dizzying world.
"You handed her over," Ingram accused.
"I did it for you," she replied, not the least bit defensive. In fact, she sounded smug. "Made a deal with the young Lord Harrington to trade the princess for the high bounty—leaving you alone was a little added bonus."
Ingram didn't know what to say. He felt a sense of loss, of being empty. His initial desire was to get Cecilia back, but was that the right thing to do? Perhaps what happened was for the best. Hera was able to do what he couldn't do. Again. He thought about never seeing her again except in royal pamphlets and his heart ached. After the disaster of a marriage he had with Hera, and the brief intimacy he had with Cecilia, Ingram didn't believe he would ever love again. In the end, he gave in to his grief.
Pulling himself together, he grabbed the box off the coffee table and headed for the door.
Hera grabbed him. "How are you going to get her back?"
"Get 'er back?" he repeated.
"Yeah. You ain't gonna just let her go?" Hera seemed surprised. "You were, weren't you?"
"Lettin' 'er go would be for the best."
Hera was this close to slapping him. "What kind of of person does nothing when the love of their life gets taken from them? I thought there was more to you than this. What happened to all that freedom for the slaves shit?"
"The princess ain't a slave." It felt cold and distant to call her by her title.
"By the sea she ain't! Do you have any idea the kind of life the lady has endured since the queen was killed?"
Ingram finally looked up to meet Hera's gaze. "How would you know?"
Hera scoffed at him. "Everyone in Walden knows! It's you who's had no clue."
Ingram rubbed his face, exasperated. "What do ya want from me?"
"Go save her!"
"You're the one who handed her over in the first place!"
"I just wanted the money!" she hissed. "I can save people with that much! Besides, I thought you were gonna go get her back 'cause you love each other and such."
Ingram recoiled from the conversation. "No," he said, "it's just a crush."
"She's crushing on you or are you crushing on her?"
Ingram didn't answer.
Hera sighed, hands on her hips. "You're an idiot. You don't really believe the princess' feelings are so simple, do you? And even if they were, her feelings could always grow."
"She doesn't know anything about me," Ingram mumbled.
"Came all the way here with you, though."
"She's gonna be the queen of this country. Who am I to her? Some thief from Potter Cliffs. I'm gonna hold her back."
"So, you're going to dismiss your relationship just 'cause you're feeling insecure? As brief as it was, Ingram, I've seen how you are with her—and I've heard some things from your friends, too. You truly love her, don't you? At the end of the day, isn't that all that matters?"
Ingram stood here stock still. He thought back to when they first met, how he had threatened her at gunpoint but she still helped him. That searing pain as she cauterized his flesh with her magic, the look of focus on her face, the glow of her hair as the afternoon sun beat down on them. Truly, she was his sunshine, and he never wanted to leave her side.
"I do," he finally said.
With a smug smile, Hera said, "Well, go get her then."
Cecilia glared down a long dining table, at the other end of which sat the very man she was arranged to marry. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the chime of her shackles drawing his attention.
"I apologize for the handcuffs, but I can't afford you trying to jump off the ship again," Leon said, an almighty air around him as he ate.
"I order you to let me go."
"Not that again." He sighed and placed his cutlery down. "That won't be happening, my lady."
"You should be locked up for treating me like this."
"Ah-ah. True, except that I was given special permission from His Majesty to do whatever it takes to bring you back." He eyed her bruised wrists with narrow eyes. "As long as there's no permanent damage, anything goes. Nothing a little makeup and lace wristlets can't cover up at our wedding tomorrow."
Cecilia paled. Tomorrow? They were supposed to wed on her birthday. "So soon?"
Leon took a bite of his steak, red sauce dripping down the corner of his eerily long smile. He took his time chewing before finally answering her. "His Majesty has had enough of your wantonness. He doesn't trust you will keep the arrangement with my father, and believes our marriage will help you settle down."
Arrangement? That sounded more like a business deal than a royal engagement. "You made a deal with my father," she accused, repulsed. Perhaps Leon was a decent person as a child, but now he was nothing more than a vile human being—if one could even call him that. She couldn't imagine her father not knowing what kind of person he was.
"You'll learn of it after the wedding. But, I'll tell you this: I'm just following orders, princess."
Leon finished the rest of his meal in silence, ever action as cold and deliberate as a mortician's blade. As he got up to leave, he told her, "I suggest you eat something, my lady. If only to keep your strength up. Now, if you would excuse me? We should be nearing Lighthouse Peak and there are some matters to attend to." He gave a little bow, as if decorum still mattered, and left.
Cecilia inspected her cuffs. By appearance alone, they didn't look all that sturdy, but the metal's magic blocking properties meant otherwise. With her magic cut off and her fighting skills nothing compared to a skilled knight or soldier, there was nothing she could do.
A soft knock at the door drew her attention and her eyes lit up when she saw who it was. "Angie!" she leapt from her chair and gave her knight a hug. "Oh, Ser Claude, you're here, as well. I'm glad to see you, too."
"I apologize deeply, my lady." Ser Anjali's expression was stern, her posture rigid.
"What are you sorry for?"
"Ser Claude and I believed bringing you back to the palace would mean you would be safe. We did not know you would be immediately forced to marry that cretin Lord Harrington." Ser Anjali paused, relaxing her composure a little. She placed her hands on the princess' shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. "Pardon me, my lady, but I must ask: Did your time away from the palace—your adventure with your thief—did it change your mind on becoming Queen of Walden?"
"Of course not." Cecilia answered right away, not missing a beat. She may have been a little reluctant before, but seeing her people on this journey only strengthened her resolve. They needed protection, they needed a ruler to act on their needs. This was something only she could do.
"Then, do you plan to go forward with the marriage to young Lord Harrington? Ser Ezra seems to think the Harrington marquisate is up to something, but I've heard many say this marriage would benefit the crown. Something about directly controlling their military." Even Ser Anjali didn't fully understand everything.
Cecilia paused for a moment as a thought came to her. If her hunch from earlier was right, there was probably more to be gained—or lost—than just military obligations. It was a business deal. She just had to figure out what that deal was. She looked up at her knights with a new fire in her eyes. "If I can prove I'm more valuable alone than whatever arrangement Marquis Harrington and my father have in place, I won't have to marry him."
Ser Anjali grinned. She always admired the princess' confidence. "Did you have something in mind, my lady?"
"I'll prove this arrangement is a detriment to the crown. I don't have a detailed plan right now, but I want to go to the Ostwald territory and investigate. With Ingram. Whatever is going on there, we will figure it out ourselves." She met her knights' curious eyes with an unwavering gaze. "Ser Anjali, Ser Claude, I don't simply admire the thief—I'm in love with him, and I believe he loves me back."
"Believe?" Ser Claude huffed and scowled at the floor, unable to glare at his mistress. He was tired of listening to her fawning over the crook. "Has he not stated his feelings for you himself?"
Cecilia hesitated. "No," she mumbled, "but I've seen it in his eyes. I know he does." She had to believe, because if she didn't, their journey would be for nothing. She hadn't set out with the goal of wooing him. It was a simple desire to not part with the one she admired the most, the one who saw her for who she really was. Even so, she couldn't deny the developments that occurred. Maybe Ingram didn't believe they were equals, but Cecilia wished he would at least stop vilifying himself. His truth was one to be admired, not hidden.
Ser Claude didn't have faith in her thief, but decided to trust the princess. Regardless of the truth, he would protect her. That was his duty, alongside Ser Anjali and the other Rose Order Knights. He raised his sword and, in a single strike, fractured the princess' shackles. "What about Lord Harrington?" he asked.
Ser Anjali laughed. "Who cares about what Lord Harrington thinks? But, when His Majesty hears we let the princess go, we'll likely lose our titles." She seemed almost smug, despite the seriousness of her words. "Compared to our future queen's happiness, that doesn't matter, though, does it?"
Ser Claude couldn't help but flash one of his rare smiles, perfect and dazzling and unbreakable. "True," he said. He turned to his princess and added, "Wherever you go, Your Royal Highness, Ser Anjali and I will always come find you."
"That concludes this meeting." Lord Leon Harrington closed a leather bound portfolio and handed it to one of his aides, who then quickly left to send it by bird to the port authority. He handed a note to another aide and whispered, "This goes directly to the receiver in His Majesty's apartments." He looked full of himself. Congratulating himself quietly of a job well done before the job was even done. Lighthouse Peak was well within sight, which meant they were one step closer to returning the princess to her rightful place—by his side, and at the palace. From the Peak, they would take the express and arrive in the capital by morning. By this time tomorrow, he would be the second most powerful man in the country.
A call came from above, warning of an unknown ship approaching from behind. And it was gaining on them.
"What flag do they fly?" Leon shouted up at the lookout, who looked immediately uncomfortable.
"The Lost Island Merchant Company."
"What?" Leon was confused. What could a merchant company possibly want with them? He conducted himself accordingly while in Archipelago waters.
"They're signaling something. R-E-T..."
He snatched a monocular from one of his aides and spied through the lens, growling when he spotted Ingram's figure on the bow. "They're here for the princess."