126 | grieve; tomorrow will come

A woman dashed around the corner of a house, panting as she pressed her back against the cold, damp wall. She peered around the corner briefly, noticing a glint of glass on the ground.

It was the shard of a mirror. She angled it, crouching down as she watched a group of men look left and right, splitting along different paths.

The edge was sharp and sliced her finger, but she didn't flinch, remaining somber.

When she confirmed they'd turned in the wrong direction, she glanced around thoughtfully. She could hear the chatter of noise inside, and a few windows along the three-story building lit with a soft glow of light.

It was an Inn. She hesitated before the scampering footsteps neared once more and her foot wedged into a protruding brick.

She propped herself up, using the brick as leverage to leap up as she snatched her hand out. The tips of her fingers grazed the second-floor railings of a room and she quickly grasped it, gasping.

One arm trembled furiously, and she dropped her injured hand, dangling using the other.

Gritting her teeth as sweat dripped down her delicate face, cherry eyes trembling, she dragged herself up, swinging her heel between the bars before pulling herself over.

Her body fell over the railing with a soft thud and she stiffened, swallowing her breath.

A light flicked on inside the room, behind drawn curtains.

Nicola felt a sharp throb of pain across her body and hugged her injured hand to her chest, warily gazing at the door. She pressed on the hand sharply, sucking in a breath as physiological tears sprung in the corners of her eyes.

The story played in her head. She was a woman escaping from a violent situation, desperate and sorrowful.

Her state was pathetic enough, and tears were a weapon she learned to utilize in her youth.

The curtains drew and she raised her red-rimmed eyes to a startled, scholarly face that she recognized.

"Miss Akasha?" The voice came through the glass, muffled due to the barrier. Then, the man came to his senses and hurriedly opened the door, helping her stand. "Goodness, what are you doing?"

"Professor Raymond." The words came out as an exhale of relief, mixed with confusion. "What.. what are you doing here, sir?"

"You're injured—oh my god there's blood—Alex! Alex, can you grab a cloth, one of my or your clean shirts would do just fine—this is certainly a surprise, and there's more blood, and—"

Nicola's gaze which had been steady and alert softened in moments, hearing the familiar ramble.

"Professor. I'm fine, thank you," she said softly, cradling her injured hand. The bandage had come slightly unwrapped, but she felt unwilling to redo it.

She stared in a daze for several beats at the unraveling bandage that had been meticulously tied days earlier.

The path they followed was unclear—Reed and his group of loyal soldiers. All she could be certain was that they were heading for the Dragon's Treasure.

Expectedly, her friends did not abandon her. She became a liability and it infuriated her.

They'd stopped by several towns along the way, closely guarding her. Then, there had been an attack in the forests, drawing the attention of the powerful soldiers who were camped by her tent.

She took advantage of the seconds their attention was distracted to escape, vaguely remembering the path to the last town they visited.

Reed had no intention of letting her escape. Was it to protect her, or to trap her?

She despised the weakness of her mind for wondering when the answer didn't matter.

On the way, she'd scrapped her skin and ruined her already torn clothing—she refused to wear anything Reed gave—and ended up in a scrap with a drunken man.

He was, safe to say, lying unconscious by a dumpster.

But she'd sacrificed a shoe to accomplish such a feat, and the other had unbalanced her steps. After abandoning the other shoe, her feet were bloody and raw.

Then, the door to the room opened and a sullen, depressed youth walked in.

Nicola's body stiffened in seconds and she drew the shard of glass from her leather satchel, stuffed with ripped and crinkled papers. Since Reed had kindly left evidence behind, she didn't forget to grab them.

The prince narrowed his sky-blue eyes, a rugged and murderous glaze over his face. It was a sharp contrast to the happy, clingy appearance he portrayed when seeing Kaden.

He took a slow step closer—before Alexander intervened, glancing at them both with a stern face.

"Calm down. So long as you are in these rooms that I paid for, I won't condone conflict, understood?"

Raymond sighed in relief at Alexander's intervention.

Skye frowned and looked away while Nicola relaxed her stance, warily gazing at the other as pain throbbed in her hand.

"I understand. May you let me know what the situation is, Professor?"

Alexander nodded, pleased. The student before him was always polite and steady, a character that was easy to speak to. Much unlike the sulking, uncooperative prince standing in the corner.

He nodded to the wooden table, offering her a seat before sliding into one himself.

"We're tracking the movements of Reed Chauvet."

Nicola's eyes widened slightly. "May I ask why?"

Raymond walked over, spreading a pile of papers onto the surface as he sighed. "It's unbelievable to imagine, Miss Akasha, I'm certain you'll be very surprised but we believe he is the culprit to the deaths across the Kingdom. The influx of Reversals occurring."

He handed a piece of cloth, or what appeared to be a shirt crudely ripped, smiling sheepishly. "Please wrap your injury first."

Nicola slowly digested the fact, sitting in the wooden chair. Her gaze trembled, tethering between horror and hatred. She accepted the cloth stiffly, no longer hesitating to unravel the bandage.

They'd suspected it, really. That was the reason she infiltrated the castle—to confirm and find proof of Reed's crimes, whatever they were.

But to this extent. The murder of dozens of lives.

This man who she was by the side of for a short lifetime—how blind was she?

Her emotions quickly rose and fell as she closed her shaking gaze, taking a deep breath. When they opened again, the cherry eyes were steady and venomous.

She calmly took out the papers crammed into her satchel, combining the evidence. When everything was together, Reed's crimes became clearer and clearer.

The tiniest bit of futile hope vanished in a moment.

Her back straightened against the seat, and even covered in grime and cuts, she radiated an air of nobility and grace that made the room fall into silence.

This was the air of a woman who almost became queen.

Nicola Akasha's reputation did not rely on Reed Chauvet, even in the past. No, it was her efforts that gained her reputation.

Alexander's gaze became thoughtful, and he listened carefully to her words.

"We'll reunite with the others in the Dragon's Treasure. I saw here, Skye Chauvet, you have a means of tracking the Crown Prince, is that right?"

Skye looked over reluctantly and nodded.

"The two sides will fight each other—we'll take the opportunity to slip inside." She thought of that loyal soldier, his hesitant but resolute profile that trusted the prince. "They're following him because they trust in him. We'll break that trust."

Skye scoffed, sneering. "If it was so easy to go against my brother—Kaden would not have ended up returning."

"Unlike you, Your Highness, I would rather do something than nothing." Skye flinched and she smiled pleasantly. "We can only give the evidence—to his most loyal knight. The most steady shield."

Alexander nodded, organizing the papers as the dim glow of the lamp flickered. "How do you know that knight's identity?"

The woman paused and then smiled a bit reluctantly. "Because I know that he would only send his most trusted soldier to capture me."

"Are you certain of this?"

"Yes, I am."

Nicola's fierce gaze didn't waver and Alexander studied her expression before nodding. "Then I will trust you. However, merely showing papers will not turn a loyal soldier."

"We'll find an unbiased but well-known source to present the evidence. And then, allow that soldier to witness the true face of the Crown Prince with his own eyes."

It took the collapse of one chess piece for the strategy to fall apart. Nicola had not spent days in the tent being idle.

That soldier, often stationed outside the tent, laughed and got along well with the others who all trusted his straightforward nature and dedication.

If Nicola or one of the others presented the evidence, the soldier would suspect a conspiracy and believe the information to be falsified.

Therefore, they had to find a source well-known to the soldier, but also one that didn't have an affiliation.

Nicola had one in mind. A man who organized and ran many trades in the Underground, reputable to any who have stepped foot in the messiness of those services.

It was likely that the soldier did if Reed trusted his loyalty.

The best way to win a person's trust was to show a mix of truths and lies, a touch of filth, and a touch of glory.

Then, she would have to arrange another piece to reveal Reed's true face—or one of many. Who could provoke Reed to such an extent?

For a second, she thought of the red-haired man who remained by Reed's side for unknown reasons.

But convincing a madman with hidden reasons would be unlikely, if not impossible.

And yet, there was another person.

One who Reed was perhaps the cruelest, and most honest.

"If we can reveal Reed's intentions, the tide of the battle will change." Alexander spoke quietly, rummaging in his pockets. He paused, and looked at Raymond.

The other blinked slowly before straightening and pulling out a few smooth stones. "Sorry! I forgot I took them out in case earlier, and then I forgot, and well—"

Alexander smiled helplessly, a small, resigned curve of his lips as he held out a hand in waiting. Raymond placed the stones in his hand carefully.

"These stones can only record sounds. However, it should be sufficient if we are able to break the trust of that soldier, and if that soldier is the one that exposes the recording." He frowned slightly, scrunching his eyebrows. "There are too many variables."

Nicola nodded, brushing a strand of matted hair back. "Unfortunately, sir, it can't be helped. There is no such thing as a certain win."

"Indeed. I'm pleased that you have grown up into a wise young lady, Miss Akasha."

Alexander and Raymond had experienced many troubles within the Academy, often being the first to deal with cases of Reversals and conflict.

They'd seen many of their students fall into a state worse than death, and many chose a crooked path.

Alexander felt relieved. Perhaps there would come a day when they would no longer fear the state of the Blessed, and the two of them would be able to take a vacation.

Raymond, after all, always longed to travel. They spoke of it endlessly in their final year, before the tragedy occurred.

After it did, both fell into a mutual agreement to remain in the Academy, lest another tragedy occur again. But over so many years of tension and paranoia, both were growing old and tired.

Alexander's sharp gaze fell onto a framed map on the wall with yellowed and weathered paper.

Raymond noticed and turned his head, a wide smile spreading across his face. "What do you think, Alex? Will it be time to pursue the dreams we had in our youths?"

Alex chuckled lowly. "We were not youths then, remember, Ray? We were years older than the others."

"Trivial things. We were certainly not older than we are now!"

"I suppose that's right."

The two professors fell into a nostalgic chatter of old travel plans after confirming their next course of action. Skye rudely scraped his chair against the ground and left, uninterested in anything else.

Nicola's eyes fixed on the spread of messy papers before her, tangled words, schemes, and evidence.

Her eyelashes lowered, the glow of light casting shadows across her cheekbones. The professors chose to believe in her, but the core of her plans was not herself.

It was Reed.

If she trusted that Reed truly did love her—that he sent his most trusted soldier—if she trusted that Reed would reveal himself before Kaden—

—in the end, she had no choice but to trust him.

She almost laughed at the realization. Her chest seized and her throat felt dry as she stared at her injured hand, now wrapped with fabric.

It was looser and unskilled compared to the bandage before.

Raymond glanced sideways and froze. On the woman's steady and gentle face that had been calmly giving orders, a sheen of water ghosted past her cheek.

Her shoulders rose and fell naturally, but after one tear, another came, and then another.

"Miss-Miss Akasha! Alex, tissues, tissues—quick, I know I brought some in my suitcase, or did I stuff them into your pocket, or maybe—"

Nicola raised a hand, shaking her head softly. "Thank you, Professor. But I'm alright."

Once, she would seek comfort in the embrace of her lover.

She rarely fell into such moods, but he would naturally hold onto her as if she were worth a million lives and listen to whatever grievances she had.

But that lover had already left her side a long time ago.

Now, she was merely grieving the shadows of the past. But tomorrow would come, and she knew what had to be done.

———xxx———

Lukiyo says,

An extra chapter because I finally completed my final project (a ten-minute poetry presentation) and I'm so happy it's done and now I have a break before my summer classes LOL! I will say the poems, "Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night" and " and "One Art" are definitely some of my favourites (this is from a non-poetry human).

Do any of you have particular favourites?

See you soon~