Chapter Text
Clorinde crept silently through the Palais Mermonia basement, making her way towards the holding cells. There had only been one guard on duty, and sneaking past him had been child's play for someone with her skills. She passed by empty cell after empty cell, finally reaching her quarry at the end of the hall.
“Callas,” Clorinde whispered, grabbing a nearby stool and sitting down outside the only occupied cell. “Callas, I need to talk to you.”
Tomorrow, Clorinde and Callas were scheduled to face each other in a duel. Callas had been accused of murdering a business partner, a man named Jacques. A man like Callas would be perfectly fine in the Fortress of Meropide, but, rather than stand trial, he had chosen to duel for his honor. And he had chosen which Champion Duelist he wanted to face. Callas had been close with Clorinde's master, Petronilla, and Clorinde viewed him as something of a father figure. She had hoped he would back out of the duel and accept his sentence, but Callas had held firm. Clorinde had come to make one more attempt to change his mind.
“Callas-” Clorinde started, before the words caught in her throat. The old man was either asleep or pretending to be, lying down with his back to her. She tried not to let her voice waver, hoping she sounded less apprehensive than she felt. “Callas, if you go through with this-” If it hurt this much to talk about, how much would it hurt to do? “-you will die. If you refuse to yield, I will kill you.”
Silence. Maybe Callas hadn't heard a thing. Maybe he just didn't want to see her. Knowing she couldn't stay too long, Clorinde stood up.
“Clorinde?” Callas had not turned around, but he evidently had been listening. “I have a request.” Clorinde sat back down on her stool, hoping maybe she had gotten through to him. “I need you to . . . take care of Navia. After I'm gone.”
“No. Callas, no. You are going to take care of your daughter yourself, after you serve your sentence. Please, Callas, abandon this ridiculous duel.” Clorinde was fighting hard to keep herself together. How could Callas do this to Navia? How could he to this to her?
“Clorinde, this is happening. I need your word.” His voice was level, without a trace of fear or sadness. Clorinde took several deep breaths to steady herself.
“Very well.” She was determined not to give Callas the satisfaction of taking this better than she was. “I will ensure no harm comes to Navia.”
“Thank you, Clorinde. Now, go. You shouldn't be here.” The prisoner had dismissed his executioner. Clorinde stood, sparing one last backwards glance at Callas before slipping out into the darkness.