Zian Austruc

Adonia was finally in Entorre. Took her long enough. I was beginning to think that everything had gone to shit.

That was until... Somehow I could feel the tether between Nicholyn and I. The idiot was still alive. How? He had dodged the curse. He broke every aspect of the deal. He should be dead. More dead than what he was after the fire that Thresan started on my behalf.

But now that Nicholyn's worst enemy was out of the prisons and roaming Entorrean court... He would be forced out of hiding. Dialynne would come forward, too. Adonia would know.

She had to know.

Everything I did was for her. Everything. I breathed, fought, and would do it all for her. For once ever since that night years ago, I knew what my true thoughts were.

They would get what was coming. All of them. Every one who betrayed us.

The cells of Wendigo were some of the scariest things known to existence. Back when I was only five years old, Mother would tell me stories of the dead who sullied these halls. All of them betrayed the kingdom in some way.

Not me, though. Tonight was a glorious night, indeed. I was doing something for me, for once. When I unlocked the back door toward crown Prince Alice's office, I was met with four people: three men and a woman.

My breath halted.

"Come in," Prince Alice instructed, waving his hand toward a chair. I took the seat and readied myself to listen.

Today was the day.

"So you're Zian Austruc?" a man said, his voice low and articulate.

I nodded. "Could you not tell by my badge?"

His narrow eyes grew slimmer as he assessed me. I was used to interrogations and whatnot because of Dialynne. This was nothing compared to the hell I went through.

So when he began prying for questions, I met his stare with an even one. Nothing he could do would scare me.

"You think you're smart for staying quiet? Must I remind you that you requested this audience," the man said.

"I requested it only to inform you that"—I stood up and aligned myself to face him—"your daughter is alive."

From the corner of the room, the woman gasped and gripped on the edge of her table. "She was executed—"

"No, she was taken," I corrected, my voice turning raspy. "You never came for her."

"We couldn't. Prince Alice, did you know she was alive?" Adonia's mother asked.

"My sister informed me months ago, but we couldn't find her. We have a scheduled document of what we think she was doing throughout her life..." He paused and glanced at me.

"But I know what she's been through," I finished for him. "I haven't been through everything she has, but when she was sixteen and rescued—taken—by Dialynne, we met."

"Dialynne Navvario?" the brother asked, his body unwavering. "She was the one responsible for the clock tower explosion, yes?"

If only you knew... "Yes," I said, and I could imagine cool fingers holding my hand and tapping twice, "she is."

"Our daughter was taken by a crime lord?" The mother began pacing back and forth and fanning herself before completely breaking down against her son.

The father stared at me. Whatever control he had was slowly slipping away, because upon closer inspection, his eyes were glossing. "Where was she before Dialynne?"

Living through hell. But I couldn't say that. Instead, I handed them each a small letter written with the most delicate handwriting and coarse paper known to our species.

A list sent by Princess Senna of all the people that have gone through that specific ring alone.

Her mother was sobbing in the back, clinging onto Zak for her life like he was oxygen. Even Zak, who looked to be the most in-control person in this room, was holding onto his mother with the last bit of strength he had.

They had been through enough. They had seen enough. "Prince Alice, please let them go. They've served their time."

"My father," Alice began, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket in a way that hid his eyes, "has made his statement on the matter. They must serve the full time."

"Is there no alternative? Nothing else? Anything." Desperation was not a good look on anyone, but tears were even worse.

I told Adonia I'd find her parents. I would not stop now.

"Unless you can bring Prince Hasan back from the dead, my father is adamant about this punishment. He says it's the families responsibility to take care of a young girl—"

"She was a child," her mother screamed, the portraits on the wall rattling. "She didn't know better. It was a mistake. A grave mistake. Please, she's just a child, Prince Alice."

"I don't have the authority—"

"You're the crown prince," I said, pointing out his crown. "You are capable of declarations."

"This is a severe thing to reverse, Austruc. Your mother would never allow you to make this statement—"

"Which is why," a voice spoke from the doorway, low and clear, "I'll help."

Thresan handed bundled paperwork to Alice, who looked pale faced.

"Oh, don't be so shocked, brother. Of course my own father won't throw me in prison," Thresan stated, delivering a slap on Alice's back. "Now, Senna has given us an outline of a plan Lord Astley was conducting. We'll need to take this plan down before doing anything."

"Who cares about this? I just want my daughter back."

Thresan sighed and nodded in her direction. "I understand. In order to get your daughter back, we must make arrangements with Princess Senna, and Princess Senna will not come back until she's completed everything she wants to."

"That's selfish," Zak muttered, holding his mother tighter against her. "Can she not bring back my sister and then finish her errands?"

"Adonia wanted to accompany her," I said, handing him a rolled copy of the layout. "And your sister won't come back until she's finished. The best we can do now is help with what we can."

"And I need to remain hidden," Thresan added, crossing his arms as he leaned against his brother. "Senna has this under control."

"Placing this responsibility on our sister in a foreign country was a terrible idea," Alice admitted, running a hand through his golden brown hair.

"Kace won't bat an eyelash at her because she's a woman," Thresan said, his voice hushed. I could tell he didn't want the Wus to hear. "Not to mention Senna's extensive combat training. We've already located multiple potential areas to scavenge."

"Princess Senna sounds like the pinnacle of perfect," I said rather sarcastically. Being genuine was never my forte.

Alice shrugged and rubbed a hand over his face. "Mallor better protect her, or I swear to God, I'll gouge his eyes out."

"Senna doesn't even know why he's protecting her."

"Does she know anything about this?" Alice admitted, peering up at Thresan with weary eyes. "What if she can't handle it?"

"She's more than capable, I assure you."

"How about we both discuss this," I interrupted, leaning my neck back a bit to bring their attention to our audience, "later?"

They both scoffed but agreed.

*~⚜️~*

I was never a lover of jewelry, but steel suited me. Being able to look good in everything was one of my strengths.

However, I didn't expect the steel to be chains. Wonderful.

Dialynne herself was leading me through the halls like I was some kind of dog. A rather handsome dog, but a dog nonetheless. Being her personal bitch wasn't what I expected when I joined Peris on her mission.

They had just finished ripping apart my dignity. My hair was matted against my forehead, dripping with water from the torment they ensued on me. They questioned me on Nicholyn and Manea, trying to know information that I myself didn't know.

When they finally realized I was ignorant, they pulled me out and decided to have me killed.

That is where I was being taken.

The block.

Oh, what a great day, indeed.

Peering between my hair strands, I spotted the man that had walked in earlier. He was significantly bigger as I walked through the hall. I would've usually taken time to admire his physique, but under my current circumstances, that would've been inappropriate.

Looking to my left was an accident, but my eyes laid on a woman—thin with dark hair framing her cheekbones, red lips, eyes that could've pulled damned men like me into an ocean—and I suddenly could not look away. Her chin rested on a set of long, delicate fingers, her lips slowly parting to reveal just her front teeth.

Did she find amusement in my sentence?

Her unwavering eyes followed me down the halls. Each corner was open enough to still see her.

Whoever that woman was... Yes, she indeed made this death sentence worth it. I'd die somewhat satisfied knowing I'd seen her once.

My vision was cut off as we rounded a corner and into a room that resembled death. I mean, it did not smell adequate whatsoever. I had a feeling that rancid smell came from the former bodies—dead bodies.

"Couldn't have at least cleaned the room?" I muttered as they stuff me on another chair.

Dialynne and her tall torturer glared at me. Oh, please. Like I was the lunatic? "I don't know where you think you have the audacity," she spoke, pushing the door almost shut.

Someone else was coming in later. Perhaps someone to pick up my body after they killed me.

"How do you know Nicholyn?" the torturer asked again.

"Doesn't everyone know Prince Nicholyn?" I replied. That was the fifth time I said that, and Dialynne clearly didn't like that response.

She stepped around the chair and yanked my neck against the back. With one shift movement, she buckled my neck stiffly against the chair. "You are bothersome. Even stuffing your head underwater doesn't seem to prevent your smart mouth from running."

I thrashed my head uselessly. "Then why ask me again, Dialynne?" I spat, watching the torturer kneel to shackle my ankles to the chair's legs. "Torture me all you want. You'll get no answer."

"Give me your name."

I chuckled, though the humor lacking. Sharp footsteps went away from me, yet I couldn't quite see where Dialynne was walking. My eyes stuck on the ceiling from the damn metal collar around my neck.

"Tell me your name. Last chance, darling."

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and said, "No. And I'm not your darling, fortunately."

She had a distinct laugh that crawled up my spine. Or perhaps that was the chilly feeling rising from my right fingertips. Wait, when did they clamp my wrists?

The next shackle was too thick for me to tilt my neck down. I attempted to move my left fingers, but I somehow couldn't tell if I was moving them or not. In fact... I couldn't tell if I was breathing.

"What did you do to me?" I yelled, trying to yank my body's control and failing.

"Answer my questions." Dialynne's face was right above mine, her face lacking any emotion. "What. Is. Your. Name?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Why would a man like you run around with the prince?"

My throat tightened. Was it from fear or from whatever she did to me?

"Can't breathe, darling?" Her hand went toward my neck, but I couldn't tell if she touched my chin. "Speak."

"Go to hell," I spat with whatever muscles I could control. She winced and stepped away, mumbling curses. "Let me go."

"You're a dead man."

"Kill me, then. What's stopping you? I doubt it's your love and tenderness for me."

I could hear the torturer chuckle this time, yet I knew better than to actually assume he thought I was funny.

I heard the door click shut.

Oh.

Now I'm dead.

I heard a pair of shoes lightly come over to my left side. These steps were not Dialynne's, and it was safe to assume it wasn't the hunky torturer. "Your name is Zian Austruc." The voice, though soft, was firm and sure.

It was no question. She knew who I was. "What makes you sure of that?" Maybe I could gaslight myself out of this.

My neck fell on the release of the metal collar. Immediately I saw my savior and the maker of that melodic voice. "Because I am not stupid. And you're not either, Mister Austruc."

My gaze froze at her lips. With hesitation, I replied, "It's actually Doctor Austruc, but yes"—I looked at her dark eyes—"it seems you're not incompetent."

"So it seems." Suddenly, I was acutely aware of her nearness and her lingering touch at my neck. She stepped back and gestured at me. "He's useful, although difficult. Please don't kill him."

"Yes, please don't kill me," I added, watching the torturer unshackle my wrist. "Though, I'm afraid I cannot be much use—"

"You think that thing is useful?" Dialynne said to the other woman.

I would've been appalled at her objectification, but the woman responded. "He is. He's built well and is smart. His mother is the head of the laboratories in Kandose."

"His mother is Celiá Austruc?" the torturer asked, almost surprised.

"Don't sound too surprised," I mumbled dryly. "And yes, she's my mother. And yes, I am the Zian Austruc. Find other information that's more intriguing than my lineage?"

The woman completely ignored me. "He's talented in almost everything he does."

"Actually, in everything I do," I corrected.

She ignored me again. Honestly, this was starting to get offensive. "And I want his help with the ring."

Dialynne glanced over at me, her eyes roaming up and down, then spoke, "I suppose he could be useful in that aspect."

"From the way you looked at me, one might think you're talking about—"

The woman clapped once and spun to face me, her hair shifting to her back.  "You're helping me with taking down a trafficking ring, Mister Austruc."

I scoffed and leaned back on my chair, tempted to prop my foot on the torturer still kneeling in front. "And why the hell would I do that?"

She smiled. In three steps, she was in front of me, a hand squeezing my upper arm, and a knife in her other hand. "Because I will kill you, your mother, and your father if you don't."

I shook off her hand and sighed. "See, if you haven't noticed yet, I don't take well to threats. And unluckily for you, I'm not attached to my family. Have fun with finding my father, though. Let me know when you do."

"And Peris."

Well, that grabbed my attention. Biting the inside of my cheek, I shifted in my seat and stared at this baffling and audacious woman. "I have no attachment to her, either."

"Whatever you say, Austruc. Please think over my offer. By the time you make up your mind..." The woman's smile fell as she stepped away. "Look, I just want you to help take down a couple of ships. Once that's over, you can continue your life."

"Why would I help the enemy?"

"Why would you help Nicholyn?" she retorted, her eyes narrowing.

"He's not a criminal." At least, technically.

"A criminal with a title."

"Yes, well—Look, I'm not helping you, and the longer you keep me here, the worse it'll get for you. They'll find me."

"Oh, 'they'll' find you?" Dialynne spoke.

Shit, they really were listening to every word. "I'm not helping."

"You'll die."

"I'll die, then," I said, pushing myself off the chair. "Where's the way out of this hellhole?"

Silence.

"Go straight and turn right," the woman said.

"Adonia, what are you doing?" Dialynne muttered, thinking I couldn't hear that.

I chose to choose peace and just walk away, yet I couldn't help but look back at the girl. Adonia. Her name's Adonia.

I think I'll see Adonia again. A stupid, dark part of me even hoped to, because even with her watching me walk away, my body grew impatient with the need to feel her hand on me again.

Adonia. I think she might've changed my life.