Accustomed

by Kyra Gregory

  However much Deros wanted death, however much he wanted to speed this process, he would have much rather not played into the hands of his enemies. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders indifferently, not caring for how much it hurt to do so. “Perhaps,” he replied, his voice hoarse and foreign even to himself as it left his dry throat.

  Queen Merra raised a sceptical eyebrow in Alessio’s direction, causing the man to leap forward, “He is merely putting up a front,” he said, gesturing towards Deros. “He acts like he doesn’t care but I’m certain that he does. His connection to Lionessa, to Queen Sybelle, is a strong one. He will crumble when it does.”

  Merra’s eyes brightened with interest and she looked back at Deros, looking him up and down once more, this time with her personal feelings aside. She inched away, eyeing her son to speak to him in private before she led him down the beach, leaving Deros alone with his thoughts. Though he couldn’t deny that he had some curiosity towards what they were to discuss, he found it increasingly difficult to stay conscious once he’d been left alone again. With nothing to aspire towards, with nothing to keep him awake, he found himself gradually disappearing from the waking world until he was called upon once more.

  The waking from his slumber came too soon but, mercifully, it came just as their sun was setting, ridding him of much of the painful sting on his skin without forcing him into a shivering mess with the cold that the night normally brought. He was being forced from his post, grabbed by numerous pairs of hands as he was dragged across the sand and into King Alessio’s tent. He’d come to know it well; with its deceitfully warm and comforting appearance, it was the place where his aspirations for death became their strongest and the most enticing of his thoughts. When he was secured against the post in the tent King Alessio was the first figure to fill his vision once more, squeezing the sides of his face and forcing open his mouth. “It’s important to us that you don’t die of thirst,” he said, pressing a cup to his lips, pouring water down his throat and leaving Deros to struggle against it, trying so hard to jerk his head away. He wanted none of it. As much as his body craved it so badly, his mind wanted none of it. It would bring his body comfort and ease him somewhat, taking from the dryness in his mouth, but it would also serve to fill him with a great deal of life that he was near-actively trying to avoid. After all, if they were not ready to give him the freedom from life that he’d so desired then he had no choice but to get it himself.

  Once the contents of the cup had trickled down his throat and spilt down his sunburnt chest Alessio withdrew, slamming the cup down on the table beside him with a growing impatience. Deros spat on the ground beside him, glaring in Alessio’s direction as his chest heaved, breathing heavily in and out, struggling through the agony that his ribs had come to cause him.

  “You certainly make prolonging your life a difficult task, ungrateful bastard,” Alessio said.

  “I’m satisfied with the length of my life, thank you,” Deros retorted, spitting again.

  “Could it not be longer, however?” Alessio asked in a calmer tone, leaning back against the table, keeping the place which had brought so much of Deros’s misery in full view. “Would you not attempt to regain her trust and affections for you?”

  Deros exhaled shakily, tilting his head towards the sky as he counted the stars in a bid to keep himself calm. “I told you it would be of no use; she doesn’t take kindly to betrayal.”

  “Yes, you did say that,” Alessio agreed, nodding as he stroked his chin in thought. He lifted himself from the table, crossing his arms over his chest as he went on, his brows now furrowed together. “I’m curious, however,” he started, “how did you win her trust and affections?”

  Deros scoffed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, pausing only because the action dizzied him. “You claim that she won’t trust someone who has betrayed her, yet, you were opposed to her from the beginning, going as far as taking her brother from her and that didn’t stop her from pulling you within her circle.”

  “And you wish to know what it was that allowed her to do such a thing?” Deros asked, raising an eyebrow. “If you hope to do as I did in an attempt to gain her favour then you’re sorely delusional to think that such a thing would work. I’ll go as far as to say that her trust in me was a mistake and I’m sure that she feels the same way; I don’t see her as the sort to make such a blunder twice.”

  “Perhaps,” he said. He nodded, pursing his lips together as he stroked his chin, “But I cannot help my curiosity,” he said.

  Deros sighed, rolling his eyes again, “I did nothing,” he said. “She was... enchanted by my willingness to change; my willingness to serve her. I don’t claim to have captivated her with anything, only for her to have captivated me instead.”

  “Tell me,” Alessio went on, circling him. His index finger touched Deros’s back, causing him to leap in his place despite all his restraint, sliding down the smooth scars of the lashes his back had been subjected to. “Did you captivate her before or after these?” Deros bit the inside of his cheek, inhaling and exhaling deeply, his chest rising and falling hard. “Did King Nero inflict them? Or Prince Nicolas?” Deros scoffed, biting his tongue one side of his mouth. “Did you show them to her? Did you use them to beg her to let you serve her? Is that what that was? She took pity on you?”

  Deros laughed outwardly, hanging his head momentarily before throwing his head back, showing Alessio the grin upon his lips and the bright twinkle of amusement found in his eyes as he replied, “Perhaps there was pity involved,” he said, a touch of a laugh in between his words, “but you’ve misunderstood everything.” He laughed. He laughed so much that he could hardly catch his breath, his eyes welling with tears that he allowed to flow freely down his cheeks, even if it meant muddling the image of Alessio’s angering features. “You think I gained these and used them for pity?” he asked, rhetorically. “In truth, Queen Sybelle is the one who ordered each lash upon my back. She was the one who sat there, taking great joy in the excruciating pain I felt that she was causing. I assure you, I gained no pity from her and she would not have blessed me with even the slightest ounce of trust or affection if she did not think that I had suffered greatly at her hand.” He shook his head, his smirk growing wider upon his lips as he continued to speak, becoming breathless as the flurry of words escaped him, “You wish to know about her,” he said, inhaling as best he could and ignoring the wheeze of a result, “then let me tell you what I’ve learnt. I’ve learnt that she has a great affinity for birds. From that, I’ve learnt that ravens can spot a cheater and a traitor from miles away, that they will shun their own kind if they feel that they have been disloyal or unfair in their portion of food.” He smirked but it trembled at the corners of his lips as his eyes began to sting, “I’ve learnt that, in her world, she is very much a raven but we are not. To be shunned is not good enough. We are her food. We are to be played with and devoured at whatever time is convenient for her.”

  He scoffed, persevering even as he became faint with breathlessness, “You’re so desperate to know about her then let me tell you that there is nothing to be seen in her eyes,” he said, “and, frankly, the more I was able to see the less there was to like. She is...” His smile only widened, his face flooding with relief, and he took in a deep breath as rain trickled down from the sky, “She is ruthless and cold, with a thirst for vengeance that will never be quenched because she is filled with so much darkness and so much hate. And, the best part of it all, to me, is that she is completely and utterly unapologetic about it.” He smiled, cocking his head back while he relaxed as best he could, “You can do what you like. You can do everything in your power to gain her favour but you will never, ever come out of this with all that you desire.”

  Alessio paced around him, stroking his chin with his thumb as he thought, taking in all that Deros had said with a calm, calculated approach. He pursed his lips together, nodding, “In a few days,” he started, dryly, “I’ll ask Queen Sybelle for her hand in marriag
e, giving her one last chance to accept my terms before I have my ships attack her walls.”

  Deros shook his head, chuckling, “She swore never to marry a man of Evrad. I’m sure she will find a man of Azura even less agreeable.”

  Alessio smirked, crossing his arms against his chest, “I meant what I said the day she sought me and my mother out for help; I don’t want a war. She has been given a chance to do this amicably and she will be given one more chance to do so. It’s in her interest to take it.”

  “In her interest or yours?” Deros asked, casually. “After all, there must be a reason you’re suddenly so concerned with keeping your people out of a war,” he said. “Is it because you fear your people won’t stand behind you?”

  “My people will do just as I tell them to,” Alessio snapped.

  Deros scoffed, “Spoken like a true dictator,” he said.

  Alessio charged forward, grabbing him by the throat and pinning him to the post, lifting him just enough off the ground for Deros to feel the strain, struggling against him as best he could only to find that his feet had been tied again. “You forget your place,” he snarled.

  “I have no place,” Deros retorted, inching towards him as best he could, “as you’ve made it such a point to remind me—I have nothing to lose.”

  ***

  Day in and day out, the frustration at being kept alive only continued to grow for Deros. However much he tried to convince himself to quell his anger, to keep himself from fuming and attempt to writhe from his confines in hopes of striking up a conflict for him to be executed in, it was becoming impossible. He knew that his actions were only fuelling his captors, filling them with a pride that they were finally getting under his skin, even if it was for all the wrong reasons. He couldn’t understand why they were keeping him alive. He was of no use to them; he’d made it clear by now that he was certainly not going to help them in any way. And surely they knew that his betrayal meant that they couldn’t use him to bargain with Sybelle, not unless they sold to her the idea that she could have the chance to execute him herself for his treachery. Still, he didn’t imagine they were foolish enough to think they could succeed at such a thing. Sybelle was brutal when it came to matters of the heart but she was not petty; she wouldn’t bargain for anything solely to kill him with her own hands, even if that was what she wanted.

  But, through it all, it wasn’t the heat that bothered him the most. It wasn’t the hot, sticky and salty breeze that blew into his face, carrying granules of sand into his eyes. It wasn’t the rawness of his throat or the aching grumbles of his belly. It wasn’t even the rape inflicted upon him for the men’s pleasure or the humiliation that burned in the pit of his stomach, threatening to eat him up from the inside. In the end, it was overhearing the whispers, overhearing the plans that King Alessio made with his mother or with his men, painfully aware of the fact that there was no way of taking what he knew to the Queen herself, letting her know of the hoards of fighting men that King Alessio had on his way. There was no way of telling her that the fleet of ten ships that would blockade the ports of Lionessa had enough fire power to turn the walls that towered over their homes into rubble.

  Deros stood there, his hands clenching into fists behind his back, his raw wrists burning as the threads of rope sunk into the open wounds, and watched as King Alessio kissed his mother farewell before she departed for her ship.

  The lingering of the Queen’s lips against her son’s cheek was frightening. The whisper in his ear as she lingered there, with her hands on his shoulders, caused a knot of discomfort to form in the pit of Deros’s stomach. The darkness in her eyes as she withdrew, staring up at her son as a soldier pushed the boat into the water, signalled the end of everything Deros held dear to him. Her leaving meant the reinforcements were close, that they would likely be no longer than a day or two away and her departure would lure them closer to the Lionessan ports. Her leaving was telling of what the reinforcements would bring; death and destruction to a place that was not fit for a Queen to linger in. Licking his lips with what little moisture he yet had in him, Deros looked to the walls of Lionessa. They were so close, nothing that he couldn’t meet with a trudge across the hot sand for a couple of minutes, but his bonds were tight and there was no reaching them, not in his state. There was no telling the Queen that he loved with all his heart that she should leave.

  CHAPTER 15

  SYBELLE’S EYELIDS SNAPPED open. Her eyelashes fluttered as she became aware of the waking world. It happened again. The apparitions of Deros had become more and more frequent. Just when she’d become thankful that her brother no longer appeared to her it had become clear that Deros’s ghost would take his place in taunting her. She wiped her eyes with the tips of her fingers, rubbing into them with her knuckles. She wasn’t the slightest bit rested. Even so, she was ignited with a passion for success that only these apparitions could incite within her.

  She threw the sheets off of her body and slipped out of bed, adjusting her gown for sleeping over her body as the chill slipped through the fabric and caused her skin to prickle from the cold. Closest to the window, touched by the rays of the sun, the feeling was very different from that in the depths of the small room in the modest castle she’d taken refuge in. Looking out, the sea was no longer distant as it was from the palace in the Lionessan Capital. Now, she was just a stone’s throw away from the shores on which King Alessio had set up camp with his men.

  As terrified as they may have been, the people in the neighbouring area made their way around the streets like they would’ve on any other day, no doubt secretly vying for a glimpse of the Queen herself as she prepared to challenge the actions of the Azurian King.

  Sybelle exhaled heavily. She laced up the front of her dress by herself and adjusted the bracelets on her wrists with a nervous obsession. She left her hair flowing down her shoulders, tucking strands behind her ears with no one to assist her, having elected to leave Ellyn with Neyva in Lionessa’s Capital. She’d been there, standing outside on the streets in the morning chill, staring up at the enormous walls that protected her and her people, when she heard King Alessio on the other side, shouting at the top of his lungs to the guards atop the walls that he wished to meet with Queen Sybelle to hear of her final decision or risk an attack.

  She hated being backed into a corner like this but she’d waited long enough, having put matters off for as long as it was possible.

  She opened the door and eyed the guards at either side of it with confidence, pursing her lips together in a tight line and nodding. She made her way down the steps of the castle and her entourage of guards alerted people in the neighbouring area of her presence. She nudged the guard closest to her, gaining his attention, “See to it that they are in their homes when the gates open,” she said. She exhaled, “I would not have more collateral damage; we’ve made it this far,” she said. She took in a great, deep breath as she watched the metal gate raised through a circle of soldiers before the doors were opened just enough for the soldiers to walk, single file, out onto the beach. She followed closely, with guards slipping to stand beside her and behind her. She could hear the straining of the bows the archers held above them on the wall. King Alessio stood a good distance away, smirking with arrogance as usual. He was sickening to look at. He made her stomach turn with that over-confidence, acting like nothing could faze him. Oh, how she wanted nothing more than to wipe the floor with that face, ridding it of that cheeky grin and replacing it with the impartiality that death by hanging would cause. “You called?” she asked, crossing her arms against her chest.

  His smirk grew larger, just when she hadn’t thought it capable, “You were awfully quick,” he remarked. “Is it safe to say you were eager to see me?”

  “I’m eager to see the back of you, that much is true,” she said.

  “You may see the back of me all the faster if you agree to my terms,” Alessio said, sighing.

  Sybelle shifted where she stood, hanging her head as she licked
her lips, “I have no intention of giving up any part of Evrad to you,” she said. “It would be in your interest to pack up your belongings here and return to Azura.”

  Alessio hung his head, taking a confident step forward, further fuelling his arrogance as he turned to his guards and allowed them to linger a few paces behind. “You know as well as I do that I cannot return to my mother after all this time with nothing,” he said, hanging his head for just a split second, leaving her confused and wondering if she caught sight of a moment of vulnerability. “I would offer a simpler alternative to my previous request, out of respect for your position as Queen of Lionessa and Evrad.”

  She laughed, tucking a fluttering strand of hair back behind her ear, “And what’s that?”

  He smirked, “Marriage,” he said.

  She laughed more openly, rolling her eyes towards the sky, “The war with Evrad started over a marriage proposal. The state Evrad finds itself in now stands as my final reply. Do you seek the same misery for Azura?”

  He smiled, his shoulders shifting in a quiet chuckle of amusement, “Please, Queen Sybelle, we both know that you don’t have the manpower required for a war against Azura. The resources, yes, you certainly do, what with Lionessa and Evrad placing exceptionally large orders on weapons from my kingdom shortly before the war, but, still, not the manpower required to wield them.”