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From a pitch-black room of the Imperial Palace, Arnold Hein watched silently as Rishe stepped towards the carriage in the courtyard below.
Anyone else would have been terrified in the inky room, but the light of the torches outside sufficed for him.
Rishe…
So dignified, so resilient, even after everything that had happened to her—even as this was happening to her now.
An ordinary person would have broken.
Another noblewoman would have gone mad—in despair, insanity, or both.
Arnold admired her from the dim.
He knew he had no right even to look upon her.
Yet he couldn’t make himself turn away.
For he was breaking himself, only staying together due to a lifetime of practice—of perfecting unaffected cruelty and molding within himself a heart of cold steel.
Remembering this, Arnold gazed upon his ex-wife one final time before forging the memory into yet another layer of steel, further encasing his heart.
Arnold was finally able to make himself turn away from the window, at the same moment Rishe turned away from the carriage.
I suppose my reinforcements won’t be needed after all.
Arnold glided towards the room’s open door, silk cape swishing against the furniture in the dim.
It was better that she went quietly—didn’t try to fight her way out.
Yet… it wasn’t like her.
It was almost tragic, how her flame had so dimmed.
Perhaps she really did despise him after all this time. After all, she hadn’t even asked to see him, much less fought to.
It was better this way. Better she, at least, remained unbroken.
Heh…
He truly was a monster after all…
Slitted eyes glowing wolfishly, Arnold’s chilling chuckle floated behind him into the now-lonely room.
~~~~~~~
Arnold should have known better on all counts.
What he didn’t realize—among other things—was that Rishe had broken.
~~~~~~~
She didn’t even get to speak with him, even see him one last time.
Rishe stared blankly at the broadening horizon as the land melted completely into ocean.
And for what felt like forever afterwards.
She didn’t know what she would do when she had to turn away from the railing.
For the first time since her first lifetime, Rishe didn’t know who she would be—how she would survive—if she turned her back on her homeland.
~~~~~~~
Rishe’s limbs had grown numb by the time the ship’s sympathetic captain came to usher her to her quarters to rest.
She didn’t recognize him, either.
So many new faces…
Rishe didn’t feel completely awake—perhaps rest in her cabin was best after all.
Indeed, what else was there left for her to do now, caged upon this miserable ship as she was?
Rishe thanked the captain before stepping into her cabin and shutting the door behind her.
Alone for the first time since Arnold had ordered her exile, Rishe’s body fully claimed its permission to droop against the hard comfort of the wood.
Her husband had exiled her from his kingdom. Their kingdom.
And… Rishe now realized fully…
He divorced me.
Those three words looped in her mind.
Slowly, softly, they repeated their message.
They spread like poisoned ink, permeating the farthest corners of her mind, until both nothing and everything seemed more real.
My…husband…
Rishe faintly pushed off the door, stumbling in a daze to the bed nestled against the farthest wall, sitting heavily.
Until she couldn’t manage even that, and fell to her side on top of the neatly made sheets.
And then, Rishe wept.
For him.
For herself.
For everything that she had just lost.
For what she had finally allowed herself to believe was secure—something that wouldn’t be yanked out from under her feet, just as everything else had been…
…And yet, that had turned out to be just another treasure she had fooled herself into wanting to keep.
Most of all, Rishe lamented for the love that had just been crushed in one fist and tossed to scatter in the ocean wind.
It was like a rose, reaching its full beauty just before being trampled under a heavy boot, she thought in a haze.
Rishe wept until nothing but dry, heaving sobs came out—her body having nothing more to offer.
Suddenly feeling the band of metal around her finger, grown warm from her skin, Rishe gasped through dry tears, unable to look at the stones that would fill her tattered mind with the eyes of her beloved.
Sobs turned to tortured breath.
Holding the ring against her chest, along with everything it meant to her, even as it lay shattering with her—Rishe curled into a tight ball on her bed, memories of a time when Arnold would have lain with her flooding back unbidden.
She felt the ghost of his arms around her, and the sobs wracked her anew, rubbing her throat raw until it hurt to draw breath.
But that hurt regardless.
~~~~~~~
Kaine Tully sat at a table in one of the inconspicuous bars within the slums of Galkhein. By way of a few accomplices, he had had plenty of time to slip into the shadows before that mad prince had a chance to come after him.
Of course, Tully had no proof that said mad prince would come after him.
But, considering the manner in which the prince’s own wife had just been exiled, Tully figured anyone appearing to be her particular ally would most likely be served the same treatment.
Or perhaps worse.
Yep, Tully was about to make himself scarce from this crazy city.
Make no mistake, he had been comfortable here while the peace lasted…
But that was the thing about royals.
You never could rely on them for much.
Not for consistency.
And certainly not for peace.
Tully had arranged for his ship to be hidden for the short time he had allotted for his crew to make it back from the various places they had been staying across the city before they set sail.
And it was past time they left now.
As Tully scraped his chair against the floor, rising to pay before he took his leave, the bar’s door was flung open.
Eyes widening, Tully tensed for a fight.
Dammit. How?
In the doorway stood a royal knight of Galkhein.
Tully should have forgotten about his late crew members and left while he had the chance.
…Something was off, though.
The guard wasn’t reaching for his sword…
“Mr. Kaine Tully?”
“Yes?” he questioned, a stiff mixture of politeness and wariness.
“I was instructed to give this to you,” the knight strode across the room, handing Tully an envelope he instinctively took.
Maintaining his eye contact with the knight in favor of looking down to see who the letter was from, Tully waited for the inevitable sign that he was still about to be dragged away.
Or murdered…
Despite the months of peace, Tully hadn’t forgotten the horror-filled tales of the mad prince from the time before Lady Rishe had come.
The knight, however, simply bid him a good evening and left, leaving Tully in a rare state of utter shock.
He’s not gonna arrest me?
Still suspicious, Tully finally glanced down at the envelope. He wasn’t beyond considering the possibility of the prince intending to poison him through the paper.
But Tully was familiar enough with reading signatures to recognize Lady Rishe’s handwriting when he saw it.
His remorse over Lady Rishe’s cruel fate, temporarily forgotten in favor of focus on his own survival, returned.
—And was quickly pushed back again by new questions concerning the letter’s delivery to him.
Aren’t those knights loyal to the prince, though? So how—
Shaking his head against questions he had no answers to, Tully strode to the bar, exiting quickly after he paid.
~~~~~~~
It wasn’t until he was safely back on his ship, secure in his cabin in the few moments before casting off, that Tully felt at ease enough to open the letter.
Unsatisfied with the last line of ink, however, he thought a bit before suspending the paper above the lamp flickering on his desk…
Hah! Lady Rishe never seems to disappoint.
With an impressed click of his tongue, Tully settled back down to read the now-visible hidden message.
He nearly choked at the end.
What in blazes is she thinking?
Sighing, Tully turned to look out the nearest window at the distant spires of the Imperial Palace—they looked to be teeth gleaming in the moonlight.
I have a feeling someone is going to end up with blood on their hands.
Tully barked out a grim laugh, knowing not what else to do.