As the sun dipped below the horizon on Ilyana and Clove's return to the castle, it was evident that her father had kept true to his promise. Platoons of soldiers separated into several squads filled the courtyard, the sound of clanking metal and hushed murmurs imbuing the air. King Mortas' sharp orders pierced the racket as he spoke to lieutenants at the front of the crowd, pointing to a map of the inner city of Wyrith to show where to split up their troops.

When they passed through the gate, two royal guards rushed to their sides. "Princess Ilyana has returned!" one yelled.

"Where?" Mortas dropped his pointer stick and pushed through the parting sea of soldiers. "Where is my daughter?"

Once her laid his eyes on Ilyana, there was nothing stopping him from running toward her and pulling her into his chest — for the fiercest embrace she had ever felt. Even with a commanding crown nestled in his greying, blonde hair, he appeared to be so dishevelled and distraught.

The king pressed a kiss fuelled with trembling relief to her forehead and shook her shoulders. "Where in the Gods' names have you been? A citizen reported four dead bodies of royal guards alongside some rabble from the Lost Abyss. You weren't found among them which made me fear Silas had gotten his hands on you." He inspected her arms, tracing the bruises that had formed along them, and then turned to find Clove's broken wrist. "What happened?"

"We visited the sorcerer. He told us that-" The princess couldn't finish her explanation before her father cut her off.

"Was that before or after your guards were killed?" His grip tightened on Ilyana's shoulders.

"After," she murmured. She could understand the anger that he felt toward how foolish she had been, how reckless her planning was, but she was certain he would realise why she had done it when he heard about Viviana.

"And you still continued with only one guard to protect you?" Mortas' glare fell to Clove once more.

"Don't look at me. I tried to convince her otherwise, but there was no changing her mind," the captain explained.

"We really need to talk about what the sorcerer found." Ilyana stepped in front of Clove, forcing her father's attention back to her. "It's not the answer we were expecting or hoping for, but it's still something we'll be happy with." She really wanted to tell him that her twin was alive — that both of his daughters had survived that night — but she needed to bite her tongue while the ears of the army were listening in.

The king sighed and rubbed his thumb across her cheek, brushing away a streak of dried blood which had crusted there. "Sometimes I wish that your mother was here to help me with your sudden ideas, but I reckon she would only encourage it. Even the dangerous ones."

Ilyana laughed, tears forming in her eyes. "It would be a battle you would never win."

If her sister was alive, was there a chance her mother was too? Did Morana and Silas have Queen Oleress imprisoned somewhere her family could never find her?

Mortas echoed her chuckle and finally let go of her. "Get yourself cleaned up and tended to. I'll send our forces back to their stations and meet you later."

The princess only nodded, watching him return to the front of the platoon which had been summoned to search for her. What did they think of their future queen? Running off without forethought and putting herself in danger. Then she returned mostly unscathed, wasting their time. That was not the ruler she would want to put her faith in.

Clove followed her as they walked to the side entrance of the castle. When they reached it, Ilyana stopped her protector from entering. "I'll be fine by myself for now. If you won't let me heal your hand, you need to visit the infirmary to get it checked out and properly strapped."

"I'm your guard, Illy. I'm coming with you," she persisted, hiding her injury behind her back.

"It won't take long and a chunk of the Wyrith army is here. I will be safe." Clove opened her mouth with a retort, but Ilyana continued. "Besides, how can you protect me to your fullest ability while your hand is broken?"

"I hate that it's so difficult to say no to you," she replied with a frustrated groan. "I'll be as quick as I can. Don't get up to anything dangerous while I'm gone. If I need to save you, it better be from a bathtub and not another Ogre."

Ilyana feined a gasp. "How scandalous, Cloven. You might lose your position as captain for something so indecent."

Clove smirked, leaning against the castle exterior. "It would be worth it." Her gaze traced the length of her body twice, something insatiable lurking in her expression.

Turning away with her face heating, the princess cleared her throat. "The healers at the infirmary might not be there for much longer. You better hurry before they leave for the night."

The captain shook her head, her grin unrelenting. "You flirt and yet you can't cope with any responses."

"I'm leaving!" Ilyana pushed through the door and closed it behind her, the echo of laughter following her. She placed her cold fingers on her cheeks in the hope of cooling them down when her smile fell.

What was she doing? Her sister was suffering somewhere on the island of Wyrith and she was flirting with the captain of the guard — with the best friend she swore to herself she would never forgive for leaving her. All this time while she had been living in the comforts of the castle, her twin — the other half of her soul — had been stuck in the Lost Abyss.

If Morana The Cursed had visited the sorcerer just before them, there was a high chance she also knew how to break the Necromancer's Curse which put Vivi in even more danger. Possibly herself too. She needed to sort out her thoughts and start making a plan to bring her home, one that wasn't rushed and acted out on a whim. Perhaps her father would have some ideas on what to do.

Ilyana left the entrance of Celnaer Castle and headed deeper inside. As she neared her chambers, King Matthian's voice rippled the silence.

"Brother, I hear you've had quite the trip around Wyrith today," he called out to Prince Damian who had been rushing down the corridor in a thick cloak. The king was adorned in a regal, silk doublet thredded with white and scarlet. The former matched his ivory hair to the exact shade and the latter alluded to the fierce power ready to burst from him.

While Matthian had his back to her, the princess hid behind a corner to listen in to their conversation. After the day she had, the last thing she needed was to deal with an unruly king.

"Indeed I have. This island has a lot to offer," Damian answered. "I managed to sneak into a tour to visit the statues around the city and ended up getting lost."

"Is that so?" The Fireborn King clicked his tongue. "I had some Vahan mercenaries trail you this morning as an extra layer of protection. Only, they couldn't find you as you left the castle's walls at the first rays of dawn. When they did catch up to your escapade, they reported you leaving the city with another cloaked figure." Matthian walked closer to his brother, his crimson eyes narrowing. "Feminine by stature."

"What are you implying?" The prince didn't step back, but Ilyana could tell he wanted to.

"Either you disguised yourself so you could have a little fun without anyone knowing who you are — even when you know that's against Vahan royal code until you're married. Or, you were working on something else. Something you didn't want me to know about." A stray flame flared to life between his fingers.

"I don't see how that's any of your concern. I've already spoken to the Council of Flames and told them I'm not interested in being the heir to the Vahan throne. They've already accepted that fact." Damian crossed his arms, leaning away from the heat of his brother's fire.

"Which is why they've pushed this engagement with Princess Ilyana on me." He sighed, leaning against the wall next to the princess' bedroom and rubbing one side of his temple. Matthian's eye began to glow a blood-red with his growing frustration. "With everything this island is hiding, we need to stick together, Damian. We need to provide a unified front when this kingdom could be trying to kill us.

The prince unfastened his cloak, hooking it over his arm. "It's not like you to be worried about death. Did something happen today?"

"I've been digging and I've found whispers of rumours from their High Table. They're panicked about a curse of some kind." The Fireborn King released his head and looked ahead into the distance. "The princess has one more day to come clean before I'll interrogate them myself."

Ilyana's brows furrowed. The High Table were meant to be sworn to secrecy. They hadn't told King Matthian directly, yet they had still discussed it outside of the meeting room which meant they had told someone else. Who could it have been? Was it multiple members of the High Table? Or was there only one traitor in their midst?

"Did you happen to hear anything about this while you were out?" Matthian questioned.

Damian shook his head with a frown. "People seem to be distressed about the wall with several varying theories, but nothing about a curse."

"You may not want to be heir but, as the Prince of Vahan, I still expect you to complete your royal duties." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and pulled him close. "The next time you leave this castle's grounds, I will have a valid reason beforehand. We have a reputation to uphold, otherwise, this visit will have been for nothing."

As King Matthian turned and made his way toward Ilyana's hiding spot, she backed away into an empty study until he passed. If there weren't enough problems piled on their plates, they now had an erratic Fireborn to add to the list.

Ilyana didn't want to discover what was on the menu of his burning interrogation.

Chapter Word Count: 1,747
Total Word Count: 41, 513