Chapter Text
Everything happened so quickly.
Shade always tried to be strong, like his older brothers were. He wasn't as strong as they were. Wasn't as intelligent as they were in their schooling. But that only meant he had to find meaning for himself elsewhere. He became the shoulder his sisters could cry on. A person that you could depend on. Someone who tried to find meaning and understanding in everything.
And he was alright with that being his place in his family's hierarchy.
As the third born prince and youngest son of a powerful kingdom, he stood a very, very low chance of becoming someone in power. He was the third option: kept trained and docile in case something tragic would happen. A backup plan. And essentially, that was all he was, but his family never made him feel any less than.
To keep himself busy, he dedicated himself to mastering everything his mother and father put on his plate. Unlike his older brothers, he wasn't often tasked with training other soldiers: leaving him with a lot of time and a lot of opportunities. He studied well, trained well, and became a shoulder to lean on if one needed it.
When the world came to a stop today for all of them, he didn't give himself any time to grieve. His family needed him now more than ever.
He lingered in the hall outside Mare's bedroom door, wearing circles into the carpet beneath his feet from his constant pacing. The look in her eyes when he had grabbed her and held her in the rain only a handful of hours ago is a sight that he doesn't think he'll ever forget. He's used to Gisa and his mother crying, but Mare? It felt taboo. He rarely ever saw her cry.
Now, he's not sure if that's a good thing anymore.
But he knew his sister. He knew that look in her eyes and what it meant. He remembers seeing it the first time when they were kids. When Kilorn was being picked on by a group of much older stable boys. She didn't say anything then, just leading Kilorn away. But a few weeks later, those stable boys' entire closets were devoured by a bunch of clothing moths. They couldn't go out for a whole week, because they had to wait for the tailor to fix their things. Of course, it could've been an honest incident: clothes moths aren't rare to come by.
But he also knew that Mare had been asking the cooks for jars every Monday and Wednesday for two weeks before that.
She was hard-headed. Stubborn. But sometimes, incredibly hilarious. He asked her about it, but she never admitted to it. Whether his sister really spent weeks going about the palace and collecting moths in jars to prank some boys who had simply kicked some dirt in Kilorn's eyes, he'd never know.
And he feared that perhaps, she'd do something insane like that again. But not with clothes moths and jars anymore.
His hand hovered over the door for a few lingering seconds, before he breathes a sigh and knocks on the door quietly.
"Mare?" Shade calls out quietly, waiting a beat for a response that doesn't come. "Listen, sis. I know. Things are rough right now, and nobody knows how to react, but we have to stick together. Ma and pa said so. Ma wants you to come down and stay with her in Gisa in her bedroom for the night."
After a second, he adds. "But she said that she'd understand if you'd rather be alone."
The family grieved both Bree and Kilorn, but he knew that Mare would take it the hardest. She wasn't so close with Bree, but he was still her brother. But Kilorn was a completely different story.
He was an orphan of one of the many small civil wars Norta had gone through throughout it's history. Which one exactly isn't known by anyone, but it never really mattered to him. They met him for the first time during an outing to the city market. They were so young then: Mare being six, and himself being seven. Mare had run off at some point during the outing, and when his parents realised she was no where to be found, they began to panic. They had their guards seal off the exits and search everywhere for her.
...only for the guards to find her a few blocks a way, play-fighting with a boy of similar age.
Of course, play-fighting with random orphan children in the middle of a market street isn't exactly a very princess-y thing to do. His parents were furious with her and scolded her right there and then. But Shade had understood her frustration. She didn't have the chances to play-fight with others like he and his brothers did. As a princess, she had a lady-like reputation she needed to uphold, which kind of got in the way of that desire.
So, when they got home, Shade sat down with his parents and talked with them. Explaining how Mare could potentially benefit from a friend like Kilorn: an orphan who has had nothing. It was important she didn't grow up a pampered princess like most of the other ladies of the court. Surprisingly, his parents actually considered little seven-year-old Shade's words, and the next day guards brought Kilorn up to the palace. And ever since that day, he and Mare have been inseparable.
He didn't know how Mare must feel, knowing that that bond has been severed. And he didn't know how she'd react in retaliation. God forbid she became cruel. She could be mean at times, yes, but her heart is sweet, and that was something he hoped to every god listening would never go away.
"Mare?" he repeats, concern starting to crawl up his spine. "Are you alright--"
He didn't miss the sound of a footstep down the hall. It was carpet, so it was quiet, but he was so on edge that he swears he could hear people from miles away. His hand immediately flies to the hilt of his blade on his belt, studying the shadows carefully.
"It's late at night, my Prince. You should be in bed."
He recognised that voice. Immediately, he breathed a sigh of relief: releasing the hilt of his blade and offering a small smile to the woman who stepped into the light.
Farley was still in her uniform, but that much was to be expected. To be honest, he'd never seen her out of it. It was hard to imagine her in anything other than military garb. She offered him a tight smile in return.
Ever since the news came to the palace, everyone had begun buzzing a different frequency. And it seemed that she was no different.
"I know that." he sighs, turning his head to study the markings on Mare's bedroom door. "I need to talk to my sister first."
"You can always say them tomorrow," Farley points out. "The dawn brings a new day."
He goes quiet for a moment, considering her words. She somehow always managed to sound poetic to him.
"...I suppose you have a point."
"I'll escort you to your rooms then?" Farley offers, cocking her head to the side just slightly as she studied each and every detail of his face. He couldn't help his smile.
"If you insist," he hums, stepping slightly closer. "Who am I to deny a fair maiden's desire to lead me to my chambers?"
That cheeky look in her eyes oftentimes felt like the only thing that kept him going.
Somehow, the next morning felt worse than the previous night.
The news had somehow already spread across the country in the form of rumours and exaggerations. His family hadn't made any official statement just yet, which meant that one of the servants walking the hall or the guards at the door of the dining room must've tipped someone off, which tipped another person off and so on.
People were afraid, and that was the biggest concern at the moment.
Norta was a powerful Kingdom, yes, but not powerful enough. With enough enemies, even the mighty can fall: something his father had told him many times. It's been through enough wars to satiate even their most bloodthirsty Generals, and nobody wanted to fight another people again. Not for a good long while.
Shade, Tramy and their father had met up in one of their map rooms, discussing every potential thing that could happen. It didn't feel right to stand in the war room without Bree to add his own, oftentimes more sensible opinions. His father had expressed his concern for a potential civil war. According to the single surviving soldier, the people who had ambushed the encampment were quite obviously Nortan. They had Nortan papers. Nortan wagons. Nortan voices and accents.
The three had gone through everything: every Lord or Lady that runs a duchy that would potentially have any political motivation to stage such a large attack. His father suggested that they go to the encampment and investigate everything themselves instead of sending Tramy's scouts to do it, but Tramy wasn't having it.
"It's dangerous, father." Tramy murmured, his voice stiff. He looked like he hadn't gotten a lick of sleep. None of them did. "Whoever it was that killed Bree and that entire damn camp is certainly powerful enough to take the three of us and any delegation we choose the bring out as well. My scouts are good at keeping quiet. Out of sight. They'll be able to bring us the full picture. I promise."
The king didn't further question his son, but Shade wished he did. Shade wanted nothing more than to go and see the wreck from himself: if not for some sense of control in the situation, then for closure. Seeing Bree and Kilorn dead would cement it in his heart and perhaps the hurt would burn a little less.
Once the meeting was over, his father stopped him in the hallway. Shade was exhausted, but his father looked grim, so he knew he had to suck it up and be done with whatever request he had.
"Shade," he says quietly. "Can you take care of the trainees? Bree was scheduled to help them train today, but..." he swallows. "We cannot cancel such things, not at this point in time."
"Yeah-- yeah, of course. I'll do my best. Will Tramy be there?"
"Tramy has to do a few other things right now. I'm sure you'll do just fine on your own."
With a firm shake of the shoulder, his father turned and walked away. Shade swallowed his nerves, studying the back of his head as he left. Shade had never really trained such a huge group without one of his brothers or his father there. But he'd have to make do with his situation.
It wasn't as bad as he thought it'd be. With the news having come out, none of the younger trainees stirred up any trouble or tried him. They listened to his commands, and did every exercise as best they could. But Shade knew it wasn't because he was an excellent teacher, but rather, because the ghost of his elder brother seemed to haunt everything these days.
During one of their drills, the doors to the training hall opened, and in walked his sister Gisa. He immediately ordered the trainees to keep going, before approaching her.
"Gisa." he sighs, offering a small smile. When she smiled back, he felt a flicker of relief.
"Shade." she greets back. "Have you by any chance seen Mare around? The guards say she's not in her room or any of her other usual places."
A sudden cold feeling of dread washed over him like water. He had felt somewhat paranoid ever since he looked her in those stubborn eyes yesterday, but he had chopped it up to the grief he was burying beneath duty.
"They checked everywhere, right?" he asks quickly. "Even in--"
"Yes, we checked every room. The guards even checked each corner of the gardens." Gisa interrupts, sighing and fiddling with a loose strand of hair. "I haven't said anything to mom and dad yet, because I didn't know if I was overreacting. But I'm starting to think I should've started with them."
"No, don't be like that. Don't worry. I'll help you look," Shade assures her, grabbing his jacket and tugging it on with hurried motions. "I'm sure she's tucked in a corner somewhere, you know her. Always in the place you least expect."
He turned, pointing at one of the older trainees in his group. "You," he calls out. "Keep the exercises going until lunch. No slacking. I'll know."
"Yes, your Highness!"
He and Gisa walk up and down the halls, searching every room and calling Mare's name, to no avail. Each minute that passed by was another burst of paranoia. What if someone had managed to get through the palace's defences? Mare was a good fighter and he knew that, but what would an unarmed princess do in the middle of the night against an assassin, or god forbid, a kidnapper?
He felt guilt weigh on his shoulders like something terribly heavy. If something happened to her in the night; if he had abandoned her to go with Farley and something happened, he doubts he'd ever be able to forgive himself. Maybe if he had ignored Farley, maybe if he had kept knocking, kept insisting...
Another half an hour passed with no leads, and Shade realised then he wouldn't be able to handle this on his own. Not this time.
"Gee, go tell ma and pa about this. I'll keep looking in the meanwhile."
Gisa had gone completely silent and pale at this point, but she didn't waste a second: turning on her heel and hurrying down the hall to find their parents and let them know about what was happening. Shade watched her leave, his jaw so tight it hurt. He needed more eyes. He wouldn't be able to search this entire palace by himself.
And he knew where to get them.
"So I need your men to drop their shifts and help us look."
Farley stood with her arms crossed, leaning against her desk. Her office was disorganised. Ever since Bree's death, she's had her duties tripled: something Shade wishes he could help her with but knew he didn't have the time for.
"You're saying Mare, of all people, is missing," Farley repeats slowly. "And you have a suspicion someone took her, so you want my men to drop everything they're doing and search the palace grounds?"
"Yes." Shade nods, his face tight. "And the longer you stand here and argue about the worth of your men and their time, the less time we have to find her."
"Perhaps she escaped into the city for some fun. I certainly wouldn't blame her, this palace feels like a funeral home these days."
"Farley." Shade says tightly. "Take this seriously."
Farley sighs, uncrossing her arms and facing him properly. "Shade, I'm sure your sister is fine. You underestimate her abilities. She can do anything she sets her mind to: you and her share that quality if not much else, I say."
Shade narrows his eyes, leaning away from the desk and studying Farley's expression closely. "You don't know that." he says sharply. He swallows, trying to contain his frustration. "Why are you so calm about this, Farley? She could be dead and it'd be my fault--"
Farley stepped closer towards him, tilting her head to study him right back. Her ability to meet every glare head-on without flinching was something he'd always admired about her, but in this moment, it pissed him off more than anything.
"You know where she is."
Farley doesn't respond.
"You know where she is, and you didn't say a fucking thing."
"She's fine, Shade." Farley murmurs. "I wouldn't have let her go out on her own if I didn't think she was capable of taking care of herself--"
"She isn't!" Shade snaps. "She's a princess, for gods sake, Farley! Not a soldier. She's not like you, she cannot just... just suddenly know how to protect herself against something like this!"
"And don't you dare call me by my name after what you did," he adds with a hiss. "My title would suit you just fine."
Her face tightens, but she doesn't argue. As a heavy silence settled over the room like a heavy blanket, neither of them dared to say anything to break it. But that silence couldn't last forever.
"You need to tell my father." Shade decides. "What time she left and--"
"Tell your father?" Farley scoffs. "And what, have myself labelled a traitor to the Kingdom for letting one of his daughter run about on a quest for vengeance?"
Shade purses his lips, shooting another glare her way. "I wasn't the one who decided to put her in danger."
"Your father has a temper, even if you refuse to admit it sometimes." Farley shoots back. "There's no saying what he'd do to me. I've been on thin ice this entire time."
Shade just stares at her. Painfully, Farley had a point. His father had a temper when it came to his children and the safety of his Kingdom. And with Bree's death, his leniency towards people he deemed treasonous would be even less.
"...He won't do anything to you."
"And you know that for sure?" Farley whispers, stepping up and into his space, tilting her head and studying him. "You going to hand me in like a criminal? Take that risk?"
"Do you think me a traitor, your Highness?"
...
"Why'd you do this, Dee?" Shade whispers. For the first time since this conversation started, her saw her eyes soften.
"Mare's got your spirit." Farley whispers. "Whether I stopped her or not, it wouldn't have changed her mind and you know that. You got your moment. She still needs hers."
Shade didn't trust himself to say anything in this moment: whether that be because he was afraid of saying something he didn't mean or because he could feel his chest tighten with the desire to scream from the terror of all these things happening all at once, he didn't know. But he knew that Farley was right. She was always right.
If she had dragged Mare back by the ear, Mare would just wait a little while and try again. And again. And again. Until she succeeds. Just like he did.
"Then what do you suppose we do?"
"That's not my call to make."
Shade runs a hand over his face, his mind racing with the logistics of keeping something this detrimental a secret from his family. He realises that most secrets he keeps from his family have to do with Farley. "Just... stay quiet. Don't say or do anything; don't make anyone look your way. I'll handle it. I promise."
"I know you will." Farley responds quietly.