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My heart sank as I stared at the staircase. It would never be the same again without Jaron. How could he leave me, leave all of us here? And what was I going to do with all of these soldiers?
I was angry at him, although it didn’t make sense. I still cared about him. I knew this would’ve happened, but I hadn’t expected it to happen so early.
Jaron...
I held the sword by my side more tightly and rounded the staircase. A vigil was passing by, and I almost sneezed into him. I think he just ignored me. I ignored him, too.
Every step took too much effort. Jaron was the one that always inspired me, the one that cared about me and most of all, took me here. I didn’t know why I couldn’t function as myself right now. There was nothing that mattered to me more than Carthya. And him.
If I was myself again, I'd run as far as here as I could. But I'd never leave my last memories of Jaron, even when Imogen’s mother took over his room. The castle was the place where he had stayed, and that was where I'd stay.
For now.
And I had a plan. I could think of a thousand ways how it wouldn’t work and hardly any ways it would, but I needed to do it, to convince myself I had tried.
This was the reason I got out of the inner keep. Everyone else had left, so it would be useless to stay in there, watching everything fall into chaos and not being able to do anything about it. Everything had changed so horribly.
I really hated the thought of doing the plan though, even though I was Jaron’s brother. My heart was already so broken, I didn’t think it would be fun to challenge Castor.
I went down the hallway, pushing my body into the wall as I walked. I needed to get to the throne room or something. I had no idea where Castor was, but the thought of him ever replacing Jaron infuriated me. How could he take the throne and marry Imogen right after Jaron’s death?
I sighed and suddenly stopped. This was my room.
Only I wasn’t sure if it was mine anymore. I had no place in Carthya if Jaron was gone.
Wait.
I was a knight, right? And wasn’t I his brother? Was I a prince if Castor was taking the throne? His death left behind so many questions I couldn’t answer.
But I'd never be anything without him.
I wondered how things could change so quickly. I opened the door a crack and peered inside. Most of the things were the same. Maybe no one bothered to come in, but there did seem to be a few differences. The bed was made. I’d never bothered to make my bed before, but I was guessing it was a servant that had done so, as usual.
I closed the door and walked down the hall. My feet were heavy, and my heart was already much heavier. This was my last resort, but it didn’t feel like the last anything. All of this felt so surreal.
Jaron couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be.
I didn’t trust myself to make decisions right now, but I went to his room anyway. At least this way I could hold on to the last memories I would have of him clearer. And besides, the sword was getting heavy, and I had to put it down somewhere safe.
Even turning the handle took effort. I was scared for myself, for everyone around me. I didn’t want to push myself down even further by seeing his things, but I'd never forgive myself if I didn’t go in now, when there was time.
I checked out the condition of the room. Batilda left some things here, but most of the other things were still the way I had remembered them. Jaron used to hate it when I go inside his room, so I didn’t know what it usually looked like.
The wardrobe still had his clothes. I skimmed through some of them and my breath caught in my throat. They were the clothes he wore just last week, and I remembered every piece of him I'd lost. I’ve never really lost anyone until now, I realized. I felt so horrible that I couldn’t do anything for him.
I slowly walked to the curtains and looked behind them before I went to his desk. There was nothing other than some withered flowers.
There was a tray on his desk with some leftover food, maybe from Imogen’s mother. I guess it’s mine now. I was very hungry, and I was technically a prince, so that was justified. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until now, but I could not eat. I put the sword down with a clunk louder than I'd have liked, but I was too angry to care.
I ate slowly, trying not to be disappointed by the amount of leftovers. There wasn’t a lot, but my appetite was even less.
Things seemed so hopeless. I had a plan of my own that I couldn’t even accomplish. I’d never go back to the keep again, and everyone seemed to be... dead. No one was here for me. A tear escaped my eye and another followed, real ones this time. I tried to be brave. Only without Jaron, I completely forgot how to.
I wanted to scream at myself. Wasn’t this what I came here for?
The plan was horribly thought out. Why did I even think of it? I kicked the desk very hard at my frustration, then winced at the pain, which made the tears fall harder. I cursed, then brushed away at the wetness using the back of my hand.
I walked to the other side of the room and fell on the soft bed that once belonged to Jaron. There I could kick all I wanted, but I'd prefer not to. Besides, I had more important things to think about.
I cursed again because there simply wasn’t a better plan. I was annoyed with Jaron and annoyed with everyone and everything. I wished he was here to give me advice.
I sniffed, sitting up. “At least you won’t be around to stop me this time,” I muttered.
“I’m always around to stop you.” The voice was muffled, but it sounded as if it came from somewhere across the room. I knew right then that it was Jaron, no matter how impossible it seemed. No one else would say that.
I was completely speechless.
Before I had the chance to react, my legs already took me across the room. I searched everywhere for him, even the places I'd already searched before. I didn’t even know it was possible for things to turn a chance for the better. Until now.
I looked under the desk and my mood immediately lifted. “You?” I stared at Jaron. He had on a hat and a wig I couldn’t even imagine, probably from one of Batilda’s trunks. Still, I recognized him as soon as I saw his face. “How did you...?”
There were no words to describe how I felt now. Suddenly everything seemed alright, I had hope. Carthya had hope. I couldn’t believe he could pull this trick off. I wondered if I was dreaming. It had to be.
I dove towards him, embracing him with my arms, and then I knew I couldn’t be dreaming, because I could feel him. He suddenly pushed one of my hands away, taking a few deep breaths. It seemed like he was injured, which wasn’t exactly a surprise. “Are you alright?” I asked.
“I’m still aboveground, so I could be worse.”
I crawled out from under the desk, and he followed. “Is it only your back that’s injured?”
“Yes.”
“Good!” I wasn’t sure how it would get injured—maybe from the arrow some Stewardmen had been discussing a few hours ago—but it didn’t really matter. Hopefully it’d heal soon, and the fact that he only had one injury was somewhat impressive in a time like this.
I kicked his leg. “You want to have secrets and plans and keep me out of your business, and that is fine. I can always figure them out another way. But this went too far. I thought you were dead! I thought I would have to fix this by myself.” I sighed softly, never taking my eyes off of him, as if if I turned my gaze for a second he would vanish.
“How were you going to fix this?”
“It’s not a great plan, but it’s all I had.” I shrugged, hoping this wouldn’t sound as ridiculous as it was. “I know what’s happening here. Castor is going to try to claim the throne. I figured I'd challenge him to it.”
“You’d walk downstairs, demand to see the Steward of Carthya, tell him you have a greater claim to the throne that he does, which you don’t, by the way, and he’d apologize for the inconvenience and step down. That’s your plan?”
“I already said that it wasn’t a great plan. Besides, do you have anything better?”
“Not by much. You’re supposed to be in the inner keep.”
I wouldn’t go inside there again, ever. Like I've told him, I was capable of fighting, and I wouldn’t stop here. “Mott came in and helped us all get out,” I explained.
“Mott did? Where is he now?”
“I don’t know. He was helping Harlowe get into a wagon in the courtyard, but Harlowe is hurt really bad.” I swallowed. “Tobias still doesn’t know if he’ll live. Nobody saw me leave.”
“What about Kerwyn, and his servant?”
I lowered my eyes, knowing what was coming. “They left that first night, hoping to help more people get to the keep, but nobody came back. Tobias went out later to look for them. He found Kerwyn and his servant, but...” I glanced at him, then looked back to the ground again. Kerwyn was special, too. “The Prozarians must have found them first. Kerwyn is dead, Jaron.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, and an awkward silence fell between us. I wasn’t sure what to say. Finally I asked, “are you alright?”
He shook his head.
I placed my hands in my pockets. One of them had a hole that I fidgeted around with. I scraped my boot on the floor. It made a little noise. At least that would be better than the silence. “What are we going to do now?”
“Last I checked, I had an army. Have you heard where they are?”
“No, but I can find them.”
“Absolutely not,” he said firmly. “You are going back to the keep.”
I looked at him. “Do you remember making me a knight?”
“It wasn’t a real oath. I just wanted to make you feel better.”
I huffed. “What about everything I did in Belland? You trusted me with items the Prozarians would have killed to find. I protected them, and I did it on unfamiliar land. But I know Carthya. I know Drylliad and the land around it. I can find Roden.”
“This is different. The area is crawling with Prozarians, and Castor has his own armies that will be watching for you.”
I folded my arms, trying to show him I could do it. “Give me a chance to do this. Maybe I'll find them, maybe not, but I am not hiding in that keep for another day.”
“These people are not playing games. They learned from Belland. They know how I think and how I plan.”
“That’s why they’re winning!” I drew in a breath and continued. “This entire attack was designed for exactly the way you think. But nobody understands how I think, not even me. Maybe my plans are terrible, but believe it or not, yours are worse; they are always worse. I learned from Belland too, in a good way. You think I'm not ready to fight or to help, but how will you ever change your mind unless you let me prove myself?” I looked at him this time, straight into his eyes. “Let me do this, Jaron.”
Finally, he nodded. I felt so much freedom then, like something has been released. I felt stronger. “Find Roden, and tell him to meet me at Farthenwood in two days. You will stay there with him until I come. Be safe. Promise me that.”
I nodded, ready, and started towards the door. “I promise.” I looked into his eyes once more, knowing that I could do this for him. “I do have one suggestion. Put one of the ribbons from Imogen’s mother in your hair. Jaron would’ve hated it, so that will make you less obvious.”
He grinned. “One more thing.” I turned. “Don’t curse so much, you’re better than that.”
And you’re worse. “I learned it all from you,” I replied, winking.
Eager to leave, it didn’t take long for me to find my way out of the hallway and onto the staircase.
I finally had something I could do, and finally Jaron could trust me.
I only hoped he could do so completely.