"So, you're telling me that everyone in Wyrith is going to die because you and Vivi were born as twins?" Clove questioned, summarising the information she had been told.

Ilyana glanced around the library, peering between bookshelves to ensure nobody was skulking on the other side. "Everyone but me, Vivi, and my father." If the captain was going to assist her in finding her twin, it was time she learnt about the what secrets the royals really stored in the shadows. Keeping her personal guard, and the only help she would get, in the dark about the curse wouldn't do any good.

Clove sat back in her chair, concern bunching in her brow. "And that's what these strange deaths have been?"

The princess nodded, pulling the blanket wrapped around her over her shoulders. "That's why I need to find my sister. If we can, maybe we can work together to figure out this mess."

All night, Ilyana and Clove had worked tirelessly to craft ideas to search for Viviana. However, each one had crumbled from one pitfall or another. Either, Silas and his brutes who plagued the Lost Abyss would put a stop to their plan, or the people of Wyrith would panic from the promise of craved secrets. Without guards, leaving only the two of them, it limited what they could use to their advantage.

Stars rolled by through the grand windows beside them and, before she knew it, Ilyana had fallen asleep. She had woken to papers stuck to her face from where she had laid on the desk and a blanket pulled over her. The captain had pushed through the temptation of rest, but she was caught dozing every so often.

"I still don't understand why my father doesn't want to find her. Even if there's a chance she might be... gone, there's still the hope that she's alive."

"Grief does strange things to people. Maybe he doesn't want to go through that pain again if we discover bad news," Clove suggested — an idea which held a valid point.

Ilyana hadn't yet thought about what she would do if she discovered her twin was dead, if she really had lost her life to the hands of the assassin. The steel fortifications around her heart had been torn down with the promise of the sister she had lost, leaving it open to be struck with returning blows that she had already been dealt before.

Clove secured the princess' hand with her good one. The other was wrapped in thick layers of bandages and gauze to ensure her bones didn't move while they healed naturally. "There is still hope she's alive, especially if the curse is active. It's just a matter of what happened to her." Her grip tightened. "When we get our hands on Silas and Morana, I'll make sure they pay for whatever they've done. Not just for Vivi, but for all of the people they've collectively killed."

The High Table's records were filled with people who had lost their lives to the low-life criminals. Royal guards, soldiers of the Wyrith army, innocent bystanders who had merely been in their way — all of them needed avenging. Now her twin had been added to the list.

Ilyana's heart fluttered. At the end of the waking nightmare they walked through, the dream of having her family together again held on tightly. She, her father, Clove, and then Vivi. It could almost be what it used to be.

She slid out of the captain's grasp and held her injured hand instead. "I've rested now. I can heal you."

With a swift movement, Clove retreated it under the table. "Have you really? You've slept for a few measly hours so I don't quite believe you have your energy back."

"It's only two more broken bones that are already set in place. It won't take much." The princess leaned forward to let her magic get a better feel of the task ahead of her. Her power had been a permanent distraction all night, begging and pleading her to let it fix what was wrong. It could sense how much pain she was in, how well she was hiding it below her tough exterior. "After this, I promise I'll focus on resting and keeping my magic at bay."

Clove could only sigh as she brought her hand back out. "Alright. Only if you're certain you won't push yourself beyond your limits."

As soon as Ilyana's fingers brushed the bandages, her power surged through them and surrounded the shattered bone. Glimmering threads wrapped around the two main halves and every additional fragment which had scattered in the break, reuniting them together. Once each shard of bone was slotted into place, the strands of magic filled the remaining cracks, welding it until it was stronger than before.

When the princess opened her eyes, the blue, glowing tint in her fingertips faded. The world spun more than she would have liked yet no black spots appeared in her vision. The quick dinner that servants had brought them the previous night had worked wonders.

"How does it feel? Is everything okay?" she questioned, studying every movement the captain took.

Clove wiggled her long, slender fingers, testing her mobility, and then bound them into a tight fist. "I can't tell completely with these dressings still on, but it feels perfect." She peeked underneath the bandage, pressing on the skin underneath as much as she could. "Thank you. Even the bruising is gone."

"There's no need for that. I could heal you and so I did."

She tried to unravel the covering with a tug, but it wouldn't budge. The thick gauze was going to need a sharp pair of shears before her hand would see the light of day again. "I've been meaning to ask this for a while now, but I haven't wanted to shatter the peace we have. Where do I currently stand with you, Illy? Between friendship and forgiveness, I'm not quite sure where we are."

The buzz of healing a wound and seeing a patient happy faded. "Forgiveness and friendship are two different things. While it may take me a long time to move on from what happened, because of our current situation, I think I can look past it. For now, at least."

After what happened yesterday, the boundary of friendship had definitely been crossed. They had faced death together, survived, and still pressed on with the challenge of visiting the sorcerer. They had leaned on each other when they needed support instead of buckling underneath the weight of the Necromancer's Curse. But where exactly did that put them?

Clove bobbed her head in a rhythmic motion as she thought. "That's fair. I just hope we can stay close after everything-"

The scrape of a chair being dragged along the aisle of books beside them interrupted the captain. It juddered as it passed over knots in the hardwood floor — the sound stretching for more moments than Ilyana could count. Gooseflesh raced across her arms, as if a beast's talons screeched across unscathed stone.

The culprit soon turned into the section the captain and the princess were sitting in, revealing his identity to be King Matthian. Rolled up to his elbows was a doublet of crimson silk that even lords could only dream of owning. Embroidered flames weaved between the seams, shimmers of gold making them come to life as he moved. His ivory hair was slicked back, unveiling the thin braids that traced the sides of his head. Beneath his finery, a faint armour of scales was hidden underneath — a secret armour of chainmail that only made the princess' curiosity grow.

He placed the chair between the two women and sat down, kicking a foot onto his knee. "Good morning, Your Highness. I don't suppose you could answer a few questions of mine."

Before his disturbing entrance, Ilyana hadn't even realised he was there. How long had he been listening to them? Did he overhear the explanation she had given to Clove about the curse? This wasn't how it was meant to be. If they did need to provide the king with information about the wall around the island when their deal came to a close, it would be a restrained account so that the royal family could still keep their secret intact.

"King Matthian, you gave us quite the fright," she greeted after clearing her throat. "What do you need assistance with?"

"Have you seen my brother, Prince Damian, anywhere? No matter who I ask, both servants and guards alike, none of them have seen him this morning." The Fireborn frowned, his foot tapping against the ground.

"Did he return from his trip around Wyrith yesterday?" Ilyana knew very well that he had, but she couldn't let them know that she had overheard their argument. If Matthian had listened in to their discussion earlier, she supposed it was the Gods' way of making them even.

"He did. However, now he has disappeared again without a trace." The king's mood soured as each moment passed.

"Unfortunately, I can't say I've seen him since we spoke two nights ago," Ilyana replied. She watched as Clove's newly healed hand reached for the daggers she had discarded onto the floor beside her. "My... guard and I have been here all night."

"Is that so?" Matthian hummed deeply. "Two nights. That reminds me of the agreement we made. The clock is ticking and not even a full day remains now." He picked up one of the sheets of paper which were scattered across the desk — one which had notes about her twin scribbled across it. All he did was raise a brow and returned it to where it had once sat.

"And I assure you I have not forgotten. This situation is under control."

A wide grin stretched across the king's mouth, a hollow laugh reverberating from his chest. "There's no need to lie, princess. We all know here that your council is grasping at wilting petals." He held out one finger into the air and sparks climbed up his dark skin, creating a small flame at the top. "Perhaps we can help each other with this matter. We don't have to be on opposing sides here. In fact, I arrived on this island with the intention of forming an alliance. All I need is your trust for that to happen."

"Thank you, Your Highness, but as I mentioned previously. We have this under control," Ilyana repeated.

King Matthian was only after power, not trust. The one crimson eye that glowed fiercely as it watched them was a constant reminder of that. If he realised just how deeply dug Wyrith's grave was, there was no way he would ever marry her.

The Fireborn extinguished his fire and stood, tucking his chair under the desk. "I will be back by the end of the day to find out what secrets you're really keeping from me. No matter what methods I need to use." He began to walk towards the exit but stopped after a few steps. "A royal burden is heavy to bear — you need not carry it all by yourself."

Chapter Word Count: 1,863
Total Word Count: 50,092