"I don't think that you should leave," Cress said as she watched Taemia move across the room grabbing clothes and throwing them into a small bag. 

"Why?" Taemia asked but her mind was distracted as she analyzed all the details of her not-very-accurately-planned plan. 

"What if you get into trouble? What if someone injures you?" Cress paused, horrific images stirring up in her thoughts. "I really don't think you should go."

"Don't worry," Taemia said with a quick smile. "I'll manage."

"You don't understand," Cress said, groaning in exasperation. "The world outside is cruel. It's hard to survive, promise me that you are going to take at least one guard with you."

Taemia looked at Cress, her lips contorting into a mocking pleasant smile. "Look at you going all mother hen on me." Her expression changed as she gave a sigh. "You have nothing to worry about, I'll be fine. You survived for nearly two summers, I can too."

You don't know how I managed to survive. Cress thought but didn't say that out loud. 

"Just promise me." 

Something in her tone made Taemia pause and look at her. After a few seconds, she nodded making Cress sigh in relief.

"Only if you promise me that you would have the guards with you when I am gone."

Cress made a face. "You know I don't like them."

Taemia's eyes seemed to dance with laughter as she replied. "Why do you think I suggested it?"

She got a pillow hitting her in the torso in response. Laughing, Taemia moved to grab the duffel bag and check it for anything that she might have left out.

"When will you be leaving?" Cress asked, her fingers playing with the loose thread and fell out of her kaftan.

Taemia tsked. "So eager to make me leave dear sister?" On seeing her expression, she sobered up a bit. "Tomorrow. You will cover for me won't you?"

"I promised I would." 

Taemia nodded and silence fell over them, wrapping them in a thick blanket. Taemia flew across the room, dancing around as she cleaned up the discarded clothes. Feeling useless, Cress decided to break the silence.

 "In the morning?" Cress asked, pulling the loose thread until it snapped. She let the broken piece fall to the ground.

Taemia shook her head. "At night. I don't want the maids to see me leaving, they will only gossip."

"Where is Florencia?"

The suddenness and strangeness of the question forced Taemia to stop and look back to her sister.

"Why do you ask?" She questioned, her mind stirring as she thought of why she would ask.

Cress shrugged. "I haven't seen her around." After a pause, she added. "And she is my sister."

Taemia gave her an odd look but nevertheless answered her question. "We don't know. She ran away a few days after her hand was promised in marriage with Prince Zeid-"

"Wait. I thought you were the one who was going to marry him?" Cress asked, bafflement showing on her face.

"She was the one who was going to be married at first because of the whole, close age and eldest princess thing but I had to step up and take the position when she disappeared." Taemia looked like she didn't care about the whole ordeal.

"I thought she liked him," Cress muttered thoughtfully. "Why would she run away? I never pegged her to be the sort of person to do that."

Taemia did not reply, not knowing the answer to her question. "We haven't found her."

"No one is searching for her?" Cress asked arching an eyebrow.

"There is a search party but I have not heard any news concerning her whereabouts." Taemia reached up and rubbed her hand across her forehead. "I don't think she wants to be found."

Cress hummed noncommittally. Try as she might, she couldn't help but feel a little worried and guilty. Who knows where would Florencia be? Was she even alive? 

She voiced her thought out loud, a hint of anxiety appeared in her voice. Even if she did hate Florencia for her actions, she was still her sister and would always remain so.

"We thought that too but we received a letter from her telling us that she was alive and faring well and that we should stop searching for her." Almost as if predicting her next question Taemia said, "We know that the letter is from her for she sent her blue brooch with it and signed the note herself. We matched the handwriting and it truly seemed hers."

For a second neither of them spoke as they let their thoughts wander about their sister and her unknown whereabouts. When neither of them reached a conclusion, Taemia broke the silence.

"It's late," Taemia said glancing at the small table clock kept next to her bed. "We should sleep."

Cress nodded and stretched before jumping off the bed, wincing as she felt her side cry in pain. 

"Do you need an ice pack?" Taemia asked noticing the expression on her face.

"Nope." Cress put a hand on her hip, massaging the bruise. "I'll manage."

Taemia gave her a worried look but didn't bother saying anything, knowing that her words would fall on deaf ears. Cress noticed the silence and let out a fake yawn.

"Well, I am off to sleep. I believe my bed is calling me."

She moved towards the door only to have Taemia block her path.

"You have to be crazy if you think I will let you sleep in your room," Taemia stated crossing her arms and staring at her with a serious expression.

Indignation flared up in Cress as she took in her sister's stance. Scoffing she said. "You don't allow me to do anything."

Seeing her sister's defensive stance, Taemia forced herself to put a calm facial expression and put on a soothing tone. "You know that I didn't mean it like that."

Cress felt her anger flee leaving her exhausted. She wasn't sure why she had tried to cause a fight. Maybe Quinn had messed up her day worse than she thought. For some reason, she felt tired and restless at the same time. Dread slowly began to tighten her stomach and numb her mind until all she wanted was to curl into a ball and stay hidden in the corner of her room. 

"You look worn out."

"Yeah, I don't feel so good," Cress muttered wondering if she was hungry. Maybe that was what was causing her stomach to tighten. "I think I am hungry."

Taemia looked at her with an amused smile. "Why am I not surprised?"

Cress ignored the teasing remark and wriggled her toes before taking a step towards the large doors. Taemia looked at her as she began to push the doors open. 

"Where are you going?" 

"To get something to eat." 

"Oh." Taemia paused, worry settling in her thoughts. "Take someone with you and get me a chocolate." 

"I am not going to get ambushed when I am eating Mia, no one even knows that I am going to the kitchen," Cress complained but complied nonetheless. Looking out the door, she saw Jarnek and another guy standing as guards.

"What is your name?" She asked turning to the other guy. 

He straightened and looked at her with alert amber eyes. "Tyron, my lady."

Cress assumed an authoritative form, her shoulders straightening and an almost arrogant look sliding onto her face. "You will accompany me to the royal kitchens. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my lady."

She gave him a small acknowledging smile before dropping her persona and peeping back into Taemia's room.

"I am not getting you any chocolates," Cress called out and started to back away.

"Why?" Taemia asked her voice holding curiosity with a tinge of annoyance and despair.

Cress nodded to Tyron to start walking. Inhaling a large breath of air she yelled. 

"Because you are getting fat Taemia!" 

Jarnek gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like a snort but Tyron's face remained blank as he followed her. 

"I am not fat!" Taemia yelled out, her voice defensive and angry at the same time. 

"And you can thank me for that," Cress called back, her face splitting into a grin as she heard Taemia yell obscenities at her.

Her gaze turned to the guard walking beside her. She took in his grim expression and lack of smile.

"You never smile do you?"

He didn't reply.

***

"A man takes his friend to the Vaidya and says that his friend was bitten by a wolf and that he thinks that the friend is dead. The Vaidya leaves to get herbs and tells the man to make sure if his friend is really dead. The man nods and as the Vaidya steps out, he hears a gunshot." Cress turned to look at the bulky man beside her.

Her eyebrows rose as she looked at the blank expression on his face. She looked at him, ordering him to provide her with a response.

"It was a foolish move my lady?" Tyron said unsurely.

Cress sighed. That was one of her best ones, why hadn't it worked?

"I won't have you hanged if you were to laugh in front of me," Cress told him.

"That is very kind of you my lady" Tyron spoke. It was the kind of tone one would use to speak to nobles. Cress despised it.

"Would you care for another joke?"  She asked dipping a finger into the small glass container filled with melted chocolate and licking it. She sighed as her tongue buds tingled with joy. 

She turned to see a brief look of torture passing through Tyron's eyes. At her gaze, his eyes hardened as if preparing him for battle and in a tone laced with concealed pain, he said. 

"As you wish my lady."

Cress smiled but didn't speak. She had tortured the man enough. For a few minutes they stood in silence, Cress dipped her finger back into the melted chocolate and licked it wondering feeling lazy to go back and get a spoon. She smiled at the thought of giving her sister the empty box and telling her that she ate all of the chocolate.

She dipped her finger back in only to realise that the box was empty. A crease appeared between her eyebrows as she contemplated getting another one. The addicting taste of the delicacy won. Promising herself to go for a run, she spoke.

"Stay here, I will get another one." 

Tyron, happy with the prospect of not hearing another one of those cursed jokes, nodded. 

Cress moved towards the back of the kitchen, her eyes searching for the large cupboard. Satisfaction spread through her as she did but her facial muscles gave no sign of it, she opened the cupboard and found another box of chocolate sitting on the top shelf, she jumped up grabbed it and fell down, her feet straining under her weight as she landed down.

Cress twisted the lid open but before she could have a taste, two different sounds reached her ears. She paused, feeling an uneasiness spreading through her.

"Tyron? Is everything alright?" Cress called out, putting the box on the table as she moved towards the place she had left him.

The kitchen was a huge room filled with long wooden tables. A large but lone fireplace stood in one corner which may have been in use that day for the coals were still the colour of the sun when it rose and the heat one felt when they passed by was enough to make them perspire.

The kitchen was dim, low fires stood ignited on iron candlestand which seemed to hug the wall. Even though the discovery of electricity and light had taken place a few years ago by the famous boffins, Frakern and Edrid of Adeeha, yet the conventional use of coals to burn for light continued. Especially in Celestia.

Cress ignored the nervous thumping of her heart against her chest and moved ahead, her eyes moving back to the dancing shadows on the wall caused by the flames and her heart-stopping each time she sensed their movement from the corner of their eyes.

"Tyron?" Cress called, her voice rising. "Where the-oh."

Tyron lay on the ground on his stomach, blood seeping from a wound on his head to the white marble stones before. Cress felt the slightest of revulsion as she realised that his head had opened letting her catch a view of a bony structure and a lot of blood.

Nausea gathered in the pits of her stomach as she gazed at the view, struck by how horrific it looked. 

Before she could get a hold of her emotions, something tackled her making her hit her head against the ground. Pain ran through her head leaving her disoriented. Her eyes took time to focus and when they did, she saw a metal pipe hurling straight towards her face.

A scream rose in her throat but she swallowed it down. The royal kitchens stood in the basement of the palace where no noble could accidentally find his or her way down when he or she was drunk.

Her instincts kicked in and she grabbed the man's arm forcing it backwards. She wiggled her leg free and bent it, forcing her knee to create a division between them. Pushing him backwards, she crept out from under him and tried to stand up.

But the small fight with Quinn had begun causing her side to throb and slowing her down.

The man grunted and gripped her arm, raising his other hand the one which still had the pipe to knock her out or kill her.

Cress gripped his wrist with her other hand and forced him to let her go. She backed away, her hand disappearing under her kaftan, trying to find her dagger. Anger swept over her as she realised that there was no dagger to protect her.

She raised her head to look at the man in front of her. He was dressed like a commoner and had no special fighting skills yet the desperation with which fought unnerved her. His shoulders were broad as if he was a farmer.

Cress knew that she could take him in a hand to hand combat. Her eyes flickered towards the metal pipe, the unfair advantage of her attacker over her. 

Weighing out her options mixed with her ego and the will to live, she came to a conclusion and began to run. She risked a glance back and saw the man run after her. 

Cress forced her legs to run faster. She could outrun him, couldn't she? 

Her mouth opened to let out a cry even though her mind told her that her voice won't be loud enough to escape the confinements of the basement. Yet she called out for help.

Fingers grabbed the edge of her kaftan and yanked her back. Cress stumbled and brought her elbow back to the man grabbing her. A sickening crunch sounded filling her with satisfaction.

Cress moved ahead, her eyes aimed at the silhouette of the staircase. She ran faster, throwing every bit of her energy into her legs, her hand stretched out on its on to grab the railing. She pushed her weight on her hand and jumped over the iron bars, her legs landing on the steps.

Before she could move up, she heard the air around her move and something hit her on the side. She stumbled before she fell, her face knocking against the hard wooden steps, causing her to taste blood.

Her mouth opened in a gasp and her hand went to her throbbing side. She doubled over feeling as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs. Whatever had hit her, had to have hurt her rib. She sucked in a breath feeling her chest heave and cause pain. Her rib was bruised, if not broken.

The world swam before her eyes and she lifted her hand to reach up and grip the iron bar before pulling herself up. Her side filled her with pain that made her head swim. Why was the man after her? What did she do? Was Zagan behind this?

Slow, mocking sounds of footsteps reached her ears forcing her to stop leaning against the iron bars and move ahead. Each step caused her pain and caused her head to be dizzy.

The footsteps came closer and Cress's breaths hitched. Her hand began to tremble and sweat began to drip down her forehead. Her stomach twisted and turned until she is confident that she is going double over any minute. Adrenaline danced in her body, flooding her system and making her heartbeat loudly enough so that she herself can hear it. It urges her to move, to reach for the door which is less than fifteen steps away but fear has her frozen.

The footsteps came closer and all she could do was focus on the click-clack of the shoes hitting against the wooden steps. Her side ached and raspy breathing reached her ears, the only sound in the room for she has forgotten how to breathe.

Almost unwillingly she turned to look at the man who would undoubtedly hurt her. Her eyes widened as she looks into his. His eyes are dark, not the almost dark not like the brown so dark it was almost black. They were black, completely black, shining against the white pool of the eyes. They were the eyes of a monster.

His eyes widen as he looked at her. He cocked his head to the side as if he was confused. 

"Ciana?" He questioned reaching out for her. 

Cress felt her grip tighten before she brings back the metal pipe with a force she did not she was capable of. The pipe hit the side of his face and a crunch sounded making her wince. For a fraction of the second nothing happened but then he fell down, his head hitting against the ground.

Silence.

Cress let out a breath she did not know she was holding and let the pipe fall to the ground. Her breathing turned slightly erratic as she looked at the man lying in front of her. 

She closed her eyes for a second trying to find peace, no kindness greeted her and the horrific memory continued to flash before her eyes. Sighing, she turned and leaned on the railing, readying herself to go.

Before she could, she heard a creak and a hand reached out to grab her ankle. A scream trapped itself in her throat as the hand-pulled her down, making her fall.

The man moved, his legs capturing hers and his arms moving to trap hers beneath. Cress struggled, her ribs screaming in pain as they felt weight descend on them. The steps dug into her back as her mind struggled to remember the teachings of her Maester but as she looked back into the man's eyes, her mind blanked.

There was something about her eyes that terrified her. His eyes made fear course through her veins and her body and she couldn't fathom why.

Her thoughts whirled frantically, searching for a lesson, for teaching she might have missed, for words that may sit forgotten in the back of her mind. Her arms were trapped and so were her legs, what could she use? She needed a diversion but what could she do? 

"Ciana?"

Cress paused as he whispered the word. His face was still bashed in, blood dripped out of it and fell on her. His face looked like it had been caved in. Cress did not know how he could ignore being in such pain. Was he really that desperate to kill her? Did Zagan put him to this?

Forcing her mind to become calm and collected, she spoke in a voice that wavered. "Let me go and I promise that I will not speak of this. Zagan put you up to this, did he not? I'll make sure that you won't be harmed. Just let me go." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "Please."

The man did not seem to pay any heed to her words as he repeated the word again.

"Ciana?"

"I don't know any Ciana! I am not Ciana, stop calling me that. I am Diana, not Ciana." Cress said her voice breaking.

The man was crazy, he will kill her and she will never get to taste chocolate and ice cream waffles again.

The man seemed to reach a decision as his hand moved, reaching for her throat. Cress felt fear curl up inside her, resting against her bruised ribs. It settled there as if telling her that it wouldn't go until her last breath and reminded her of this time and again as she sucked in a breath. It climbed down to her stomach, turning it queasy and travelled up to her throat, holding her voice and refusing to let it leave.

The man's hands came to rest upon her neck and before his grip could tighten, something happened.

The lights around the room started flickering casting a crepuscular glow within the room, they burned bright for one last time before they gave way to darkness. Then Cress began to glow, her slightly tanned hands turned stark white shining in the darkroom.

Her fingers burned but calmness had settled over Cress like a blanket covering a toddler and providing him comfort. Her hand gripped his arm that held her down and the man screamed. 

His cry was raw, animalistic and it echoed around the room. He grabbed his arm, whimpering in pain.

"Ciana?" 

Maybe if Cress said paid attention then she would have seen the lost and confused look of a child on his face. Maybe if she had looked into his dark eyes then she would have found pain and pleading in him. But she didn't.

Her hands gripped his shoulder making him release another cry. Her hands grew brightly as if spurred on by the man's pain. Her hands greedily moved to hold his face making him scream in terror and pain. 

The man jerked away from her, his hands flying to cover his face. He stumbled, unable to stay balanced and then he fell. His head hitting each step and cries escaping his lips. 

He fell on the bottom and the cries stopped. 

Cress stared at him before she looked at her fingers which had stopped glowing. Angry red blisters decorated her palms. She let a finger trail over them wincing as she realised that even her fingers had suffered. She got up and leaned her shoulder against the railing before she moved up, her body flaring up in pain.

Then she opened the door and left the kitchen which was in a different state than which she had found it in.

***

So, you guys probably don't care about this but duffel bags were invented in the 17th century. This place, this setting, this story, I always picture it to be in the 17th or 18th century when discoveries were being made. When people were still figuring out the secrets of the universe. I like the idea of looking in past and knowing that one day something would be discovered that would change the course of the world. Like nuclear bombs.  

Sadie Kane