Chapter Twenty-Two

A man suddenly stepped around the corner, and Remus's first thought was that Lord Dubois had made a move and sent a loyal lackey. Or it was one of the Regent's special people. Sébastien didn't move or even unclench his fist on the desktop.

The newcomer's clothes weren't in good shape from what Remus could tell at that distance. Perhaps a homeless squatter had been bunking in a room and finally decided to risk it and see who had invaded his claimed home.

"If this is your spot, we'll go." Remus kept his hand away from his sword hilt.

The man started to walk down the hall. He hadn't drawn his sword, and Remus went to the door. The man wore a rough, homespun cowl.

"My friend's not feeling well," Remus said neutrally as he took a few more steps to keep him from getting too close. "He doesn't want to talk, and we'll leave-"

"I don't want to talk to the damn Prince."

"Huh?"

"Don't try to lie to me."

Remus came forward again, and the man finally stopped.

I know who that is, Remus." He pushed back his hood. "You don't recognize me, do you? I saw you a few times, although I was likely just another city guard to you."

Vaguely, Remus remembered his rather average face, although the guard's goatee had been shorter and not so scraggly. A scar ran down one cheek and disappeared into the coarse hair. Without that feature to tickle his memory, he likely wouldn't have remembered him. He gripped his sword hilt. "If you're my twin's dog, what are you doing here?"

The man scowled. "I'm not his dog."

"I don't seem to remember you doing anything that night. Everyone became his dog and was ready to kiss his arse."

"What did you expect me to do? I wasn't even in the Palace." The guy gritted his teeth. "After everything went down that night, the Palace guards told us what happened. Well, what Quintus wanted everyone to believe. What the fuck did you expect me to do? I wasn't even on shift. I was in bed when I heard the bell. Later, should I have told Quintus to his face that he was a liar? Twenty people were sent as slaves to Soleil, and nobody wanted to be next in case Quintus decided more presents were needed."

"So what are you doing here?"

"I'm on the run. I got in a fight with a guard at a tavern, and I punched him in the face when he wouldn't get out of mine. I didn't intend for him to fall and hit his neck just so on the edge of the hearth. His neck snapped. I ran and got lucky. Made it here. I can't go home with the murder of another city guard on my back."

"That doesn't explain what you're doing here ."

The guy flung up his hands. "Where else should I go? All kinds of lowlifes live here now, and since I'm technically one, it's a place to hide out. No guards from back home are going to scour Calmerra and hope to find me. I know this place isn't haunted or cursed, so I snuck in, and nobody bothers me. The rest of the rubbish doesn't care for the Castle. The soot barely touched downstairs here. I'm more wondering what you're doing here."

Remus couldn't pretend to be someone else now. He wasn't pretty like Sébastien, but he was big and distinctive enough to remember despite his lack of Princely clothes. He shrugged and glanced over his shoulder to see Sébastien stuffing the wine book and letters under his shirt with suspicion written all over his face.

The guy scratched his chin. "I've heard things."

"I'm not interested in what you heard," said Remus. "I didn't murder my Uncle. We won't say anything, and you can have your hiding spot."

The once-guard didn't seem regretful about killing someone. If he was telling the truth, which Remus doubted, maybe he simply didn't want to show anything about it. It was possible for a fight to get out of control or for a horrible accident to change someone's life forever. Perhaps he was truthful, and one wrong punch had left him on the run.

"Aren't you a slave?" The guy made a face. "The Prince doesn't collar you?"

"I'm not his slave. He freed me."

"You're working with him?"

"Yeah."

"Why?" The man's expression was priceless.

"Things change. Listen, we're going, and we won't tell anyone you're here-"

"Or you could help me."

"I can't exactly go home and ask my twin to pardon you. I also can't pardon you." Remus also wouldn't without hearing witness accounts of what happened. Who knew what truly took place? Perhaps the guard had lost his shit on someone and purposely beat their head in a fit of wild rage induced by alcohol.

He stepped forward, and Remus gripped his hilt tighter. "Do we need that? You're bigger than me. With no collar, you got your magic too."

"So? I don't know you, and I'm not exactly comfortable with this. I'm sure you can understand since we've come across each other in an abandoned Castle, and it took you a while to come out."

"I was sleeping when I heard something shatter. It woke me."

Sébastien had kicked the shelf and a bottle. Remus hadn't checked every room in the damn maze of the servant's quarters. He took another glance at the Prince who was still behind the desk and watching with blank eyes. Why hadn't he gotten up?

"Surely, you're not intending to stay with him? Everyone knows his Father was responsible for what happened not far above our heads." The man pointed up. "Someone was stupid since he got himself killed with his plan. Served him right."

"King Jean didn't do it." Remus couldn't declare the Regent the culprit without explaining everything and showing him the note.

"He has you for a while and you're suddenly on Soleil's side? Are you literally going to stand there, defend the enemy, and spit on the memory of your Father? I lost people in that fucking war, and now the man who was my Crown Prince works with the Soleilian Prince?"

"I lost people too."

"Are you Soleilian or Rowland?"

"Rowland-"

"Do you want to go home?"

"Yes, but-"

"Are you saying Jean is innocent-" the man started in a low voice before raising it to spit the last few words "-because the bastard's son is behind you?"

"No! I-"

"We can both fight that spoiled shit in there."

"Shut the fuck up," hissed Remus. "If-"

"If both of us got him and kept him alive, we could take him to Rowland and sell him to Quintus. With him owning the enemy Prince thanks to us, I'd get a pardon, and I doubt it'll buy your throne, but it might buy your freedom, and he'll leave you alone. And don't give me some bullshit about being free." The man raised his voice. "I can guarantee he's got a knife waiting for your back."

Beyond him, the hall came to an end, and one could go right or left. Somewhere, to his right and down that way, Remus heard a noise. It was so low, he almost wanted to blame his mind for playing tricks while the man continued.

On the far wall, he caught the faintest shadow. Someone had moved, and the light had directed their shadow just so. He blinked, picturing several men down that way, waiting and listening.

Remus hadn't checked every room, and it would have been easy enough to follow them to Calmerra and inside. The camp had been quiet, and one person staying awake to watch for Lord Dubois could have noticed them leaving. If so, Lord Dubois would have guessed Sébastien might want to sneak into the Castle…

As for the Rowland man before him…Who knew if the Regent had a friend across the ocean? He could have been writing to Quintus beforehand and maneuvering things with Remus's traitor brother…

"Well?" asked the man. "I can tell you're thinking about it. Rowland isn't into slaves, but I'm sure someone would make an exception for that fine little piece of ass behind you since he's the last son of the enemy. Since the war is his family's fault, that piece of shit can spend the rest of his life bouncing on a Rowland man's cock. I think it's fitting."

This guy had to go.

Remus stepped back as he drew his sword and chanced a look behind him, hoping for Sébastien to get his fucking ass up so they could fight whatever number lay around the corner. They'd only get through this alive by working together.

Pure devastation twisted Sébastien's face before he jumped up. Instead of running out, he grabbed the door.

Fuck, no.

Remus ran for it and managed to get his sword into the gap just before Sébastien could slam it shut. The hilt scraped on the wood, and he rammed his shoulder against the door.

"Let me in!" The last thing he wanted to do was shock Sébastien when they had others to fight.

The man rushed forward with his weapon drawn. Remus looked fast enough to see he didn't have any fire or lightning ready to use. Or at least not yet. With his full weight against the door, Remus wedged his boot in and pulled his sword just in time to deflect a strike from the man.

He hit just right, and the slighter enemy lost his grip. Some guard.

Several enemies flooded around the corner at that moment, and he caught the colors of Lord Dubois. Blue and purple. Fuck.

Another good shove opened it enough for him to slip in although the other man stupidly threw himself after Remus and tried to snatch his arm. A dagger gleamed, and Remus barely managed to jerk aside in time to prevent himself from going the same way Sébastien had tried sending him that one night.

Sébastien's sword flashed a second later in front of his face. The bastard was trying to kill him too. Boots pounded down the hall. In seconds, they'd be overrun, and the Prince thought he'd been seriously contemplating selling him to Quintus.

The man remembered the enemy to his side, and he went in for a strike with his dagger, forcing Sébastien to block him. Remus took the opportunity to grab the other's dagger wrist, send a good shock through his arm, slam him into the door, and use his weight to force it close before flipping the swivel latch.

It had been far more satisfying to shove the traitor into something although not nearly enough. Fists and boots pounded on the door. "Wait-wait-"

Still holding the man's wrist, Remus lurched back, jerking the enemy along with him.

"This is for asking me to sell the Prince."

The man made a strange sound. Something under his clothes, likely light leather armor, tried to resist the sword, but it was no match for the tip. Flesh split and ribs cracked under the force as Remus drove it in.

"Wait-I'm just the sacrificial lamb-"

Remus hadn't heard that term in ages, and he didn't care or stop until the sword went to the hilt. The man dropped his dagger as he was released. Remus kicked him in the gut to loosen his weapon. Blood spattered the floor as the man stumbled back and hit the door that someone was pounding on.

The man's hand glowed with healing magic although he didn't seem to have the strength to lift it. "Quintus didn't give me a choice-"

Remus gripped his bloody blade as he backed up a little. "I bet you were in prison, and he let you loose with a job. You should have run and never looked back."

Sébastien still had his weapon ready, and the tension in his body said he didn't know whether to attack or not. Remus had just killed the intruder.

"You still don't fucking trust me!" roared Remus, and those trying to get in didn't pause in their attempts. The metal swivel latch was thick, but it wasn't meant to withstand brute force forever.

"You said nothing against him while he was talking about selling me," accused Sébastien. "You fucking stood there-thinking about it."

For fuck's sake. That's why he'd tried to lock Remus out, imagining that he'd finally decided to show his true colors and would agree to capture Sébastien to sell him to the enemy.

"I heard a noise ahead-"

"You were tempted to do it. I might be worth a pardon so you can live freely if you let Quintus have me and the throne."

"If I was that scummy, he'd renege on that in five minutes."

"It's still worth a try!" shouted Sébastien. "You wouldn't be the first person to use me!"

"I swear to Elira I heard something ahead, and I saw a shadow. That's why I grew quiet. I knew someone was around the corner, and I was right. I just killed this fucker who offered me the chance, and I'd do it again. If we don't stick together now, we're both going to die. You almost shut me out and screwed yourself over. What's it going to take for you to trust me? Do I have to fucking die for you to finally get that I'm not going to betray you?! I'm not your damn Uncle, a courtier, or-"

He cut off, and indecision flickered in Sébastien's eyes as the pounding stopped. Even with the few times Sébastien had tried to reach out and give a little trust, part of him had to be screaming to never fully give it over and to never truly let his guard down. If a family member would do horrendous things, why trust the son of the enemy? Why trust anyone when his Uncle had betrayed him in multiple ways and tried to take everything from him?

Sure, Remus had helped and done good things, but there was something in it for him, and the Regent had also done things for the family all while plotting and abusing his nephew in secret.

"I'm sorry," whispered Sébastien. Low voices sounded in the hall as the enemy seemed to be deciding what to do.

The door was thick, and the latch had proven to be a surprisingly worthy adversary. They could go upstairs and possibly find something to use as a ram because if the latch stayed strong, it'd be too hard to bust down such a thick door.

"Use your fire," someone snapped.

"I'm not going through a burning door!"

"Light it up, and let them-"

Someone snapped something before the voices hushed and backed further away.

Remus estimated ten had come charging. He hadn't specifically noticed Lord Dubois, but he might have been at the back. Remus had been more focused on getting in so he wasn't trapped under a pile and turned into a corpse.

There was only one way out of the room, and the enemy couldn't wait that long. Ten could have easily snuck out of camp, and if they could get back in before dawn, they'd be successful. Everyone would wake up in the morning, and eventually, someone would realize the Prince and Remus were gone and nowhere to be found. Oops. Lord Dubois and his lackeys wouldn't be suspected.

Sébastien lowered his sword a little and kept glancing at the door. Remus set his weapon on the desk and marched over. Fear flashed on the Prince's face, and his arm twitched.

Remus grabbed the back of his neck and pressed his lips to Sébastien's, trying to convey it all. He stayed this long despite everything and would remain. At that point, neither of them had anyone else but each other, and there wasn't even any family left to trust.

If they had to die that night, Sébastien wasn't going to die alone without someone fighting at his side. If there was any chance he could grow into someone better, he had to live, and Remus wanted to see it.

The Prince made a faint noise and stiffened although his lips yielded, and he pushed into it, letting Remus have control that time. Remus broke it off because a man yelled.

"Sébastien, you can stay there, and we'll come through at some point. Remus won't protect you. Or you can come out, make this easy, and you'll live."

Lord Dubois. Remus snatched his sword from the desk.

"What about Remus?" Sébastien's tongue flicked over his lips like he was still tasting the kiss, but the rest of his attention was entirely focused on their only avenue of escape.

"Your slave dies. No negotiation on that."

"Just what are you attacking me for?" Sébastien said in a calm voice as he drew closer. "What's your reasoning for this?"

"You're being arrested for treason and consorting with the enemy. I think that's obvious."

"Enlighten me. How have I committed treason? When did I consort with the enemy?"

Remus could imagine the vein in Lord Dubois's forehead bulging with rage. "Did you forget about trying to kill me?"

"No. You owe Remus your life because I would have kept stomping on your throat until you were dead. Even then, I wouldn't have been ready to stop."

"Open the fucking door!" The Earl kicked it.

"Are you going to skewer me right here, or are you going to take me back to my Uncle?" Sébastien demanded frostily. "Corentin's a bit smarter than you, so I'm sure you need him to do the work of making up a grand, detailed story about what I supposedly did wrong. Then he can hang me. It'd be easier to kill me now, sneak back to camp, and pretend to be ignorant of my whereabouts in the morning. In fact, you'd likely pretend to believe that I ran off with Remus."

Lord Dubois made a frustrated noise. "The fact that you care about your slave's life shows your intentions to start with. Your fucktoy doesn't get to live, and if you refuse, we will get in there. Come out. Now."

Sébastien lifted his sword to look at the hilt and touch the wings. "Nah."

Only the Prince would say "nah" while ten bloodthirsty people lurked a few feet away. Lord Dubois must have had steam coming from his ears since another thump came.

"You can't fight against this many, and if you try to stay, we'll smoke you out."

Boots stomped away, and Remus hurried to press his ear to the wood, trying to catch what they were saying.

Instead of everyone trying to beat their way in once more, it grew quiet. Sébastien put a finger to his lips. "They can see when we move."

The light in the room made shadows, and if one walked anywhere, the others would see the strip of light from underneath moving. A few innocent noises came from the hall.

"They're mostly quiet," he whispered.

"For now."

Remus dropped down to peek under the crack. Ten pairs of boots weren't waiting several feet away.

He stood. "I think a few left to get something. We should go now. They won't expect it, and they've stupidly split up. A few must be at the end, so we can take care of them and run. The rest will be finding shit to burn in the hall because they could make a smaller, controlled fire instead of setting the whole door ablaze. I imagine they'd want your body recognizable enough so you can be brought back at some point, and Corentin can be sure you're dead."

Sébastien narrowed his eyes. "No. We wait."

"There are less now. We don't have armor, but my lightning tracks."

"We wait. They all need to die. We can't go back to camp, and when we run for real, we can't risk any living and coming after us or reporting to the Regent. I don't know what scumbags are still in the camp either. At the very least, we'll give ourselves hours to get ahead."

"Fine."

"Help me move the desk around."

***

Remus never thought he'd be facing a fire with a rag soaked in old juice around his face. Earlier, Sébastien had found a couple of things in the bottom desk drawer during his search, although they hadn't seemed important at the moment. One was a bottle of old pinky berry juice. It couldn't be fermented into wine on its own, and it certainly didn't smell good since it had been sitting there for who knew how long.

Someone had also hidden a bottle of cheap, shitty vodka in case they had a bad day. Remus and Sébastien turned the desk and stacked some junk parchment on top along with a couple of flimsy old books.

Whoever hid the vodka had also hidden a naughty book. With its cover missing, the first page showed a line drawing of a man in a frilly nightgown that barely covered his ass. Someone had liked their men in feminine wear. Remus hooked his sword in his belt and waited by the door. Sébastien stood by one end of the desk turned lengthwise, and he shifted an old apron on their junk pile of flammable items.

"Ready?"

Sébastien touched the bottle of vodka he'd tucked in his coat and nodded.

Lord Dubois's chosen men must have been piling some stuff on the floor. Glass broke, and he could have sworn he heard something about "sending it up" and "a little smoke is enough for rats."

Boots hurried away. Remus couldn't smell anything except for gross old juice, and it was sticky on his face too. Sébastien focused on the door, and Remus finally saw it after a minute.

The first wisps of smoke drifted under.

Old parchment and chunks of half-burned wood were good for creating a lot of smoke. It would fill that bit of the hall first and start creeping along as whatever smoldered. Remus could picture Lord Dubois and the others waiting around the corner. They'd back up a bit if needed, and the lord was probably congratulating himself.

A snotty Prince might risk thirst and hunger for quite a bit if he didn't want to come out. No one in a trapped space can withstand smoke for very long, and it doesn't have to come from a massive fire either. They'd either come out or die from a lack of air.

Since they'd taken long enough to prep their pile, they likely had a few buckets of water in a room. They'd put out their little fire, get to work on busting the door down, and hope to find two dead people in the room. At the very least, Sébastien and Remus would be too starved for air to fight back.

The room grew hazy, and the soaked rag didn't completely block the smell.

"Ready?" muttered Sébastien.

"Yes."

"Three, two, one."

Remus flipped the latch up and flung open the door. Sébastien shoved on the desk to get it moving. As expected, a pile of junk lay beyond, and the hall had far more smoke. Remus joined the Prince at the end of the desk. It scraped over the rough flooring, but with Remus's added strength, they plowed right through the burning junk and thick, black smoke. Old, curling parchment scattered, and something tried to snag the bottom of the desk. Nothing burning touched or hurt them.

Remus dug his boots in as they raced down the hallway. They weren't exactly silent, and shouts came from around the right corner. Sébastien touched his flaming hand to an apron on the desk.

He let go of the desk, and just before they reached the end, someone stepped out. Unfortunately, it was only one man. Remus roared and shoved their improvised ram right into the bastard who squealed and stupidly tried to push back.

Something cracked when he hit the wall. The rest rushed forward just as Sébastien threw the bottle of vodka. One yelled fire when they spotted the burning rag sticking out of the top.

Whether by aim or luck, the bottle hit the biggest man. Lord Dubois roared as the bottle shattered in his face, and the vodka burst into blue flame. Too soon, it was out since vodka doesn't burn that well. It did the job of terrifying them all and singing the lord's eyebrows.

Remus sent his red lightning right toward him. Everyone had gone for lighter armor, probably so they could sneak out of camp more easily.

They never should have underestimated the two Princes.

Sébastien's sword sliced a man's arm to the bone, and before he could recover, Remus opened his gut. He had to duck a man's axe just as fire hit his left shoulder.

The burning pissed him off even more. Lightning crackled on another's hand just before Remus laid him out flat. One swung his flaming sword, and Sébastien was there in a second to parry it. Remus grabbed a man to block a blast of blue energy from another. It was strong enough to send them both into the wall. The unfortunate fairy shield lay dead moments later as Remus slit his throat and threw him at another.

Sébastien ducked a mace and delivered a vicious swing to the face of the blue energy guy. He screamed, blasted a wild burst of energy at the ceiling, and grabbed at his face.

The blade had ruined his cheek, and Remus caught a glimpse of bloodied teeth before the Prince threw fire at the enemy's face.

He didn't think except where his blade or magic went next. He barely felt the next burn on his left arm, and Lord Dubois tried to turn tail and run.

Remus hit him with another blast of lightning. Lord Dubois's armor was better and seemed to absorb most of it. It was enough to make him stumble. Remus grabbed a mace and chased him.

"You're a fucking coward!" Remus slugged him in the back, and Lord Dubois dropped to his knees. He turned and swung his sword, forcing Remus to jump back.

Sébastien suddenly appeared as if out of nowhere with someone's axe. Metal clanged as his overhead swing brought the edge down right into his helmet. Lord Dubois went cross-eyed, and Sébastien snatched the mace from Remus's hand.

"Give me that."

The Earl mumbled, not that the Prince listened. Lord Dubois couldn't speak at all after the mace smashed into his face. Remus heard his nose break and could have sworn a piece of tooth went flying.

Sébastien struck him again, and the lord tipped over. The Prince didn't stop as blood flew, and bits of teeth and bone came loose. The lord's face was unrecognizable.

"Sébastien."

The Prince gave him a last hit and finally straightened up. Skin and blood streaked the edges of the mace. "That felt fucking good to finally shut him up." He turned to the rest of the carnage.

One man was still alive, and his glowing hand touched his face to heal the burns Sébastien must have given him. A man with only healing magic shouldn't have come out for a job like this. His sword was by him, but he'd likely be too slow to grab it and attack since Sébastien was approaching.

"Please! No! I only came because I was ordered. I had to-"

"Put your hand down."

The man lowered it, and Sébastien lifted the mace. "You're going to leave your weapon and crawl over to Remus."

"No, no, no! I just want to go hom-"

"If you don't, I'll fucking splatter your brains all over the damn hallway and enjoy it!" Sébastien screamed at him. "Do it!"

The soldier couldn't have been older than either of them. He hastily crawled over the broken, burned, shocked bodies of his comrades to get to Remus who couldn't help but finally cough.

Sébastien followed with the mace, ready to whack him. "Heal him."

Remus was so pumped full of adrenaline, he could barely feel the burns on his arms that had pretty much wrecked his sleeves. He would after a while. The man's knees shook as he stood and touched his glowing hand to the burns, and his eyes pleaded with Remus.

Like they'd let anyone under Lord Dubois live and blab after this night.

As soon as he was done, Remus shoved him back. Sébastien swung the weapon, broke the man's face, and gave him a last strike for good measure once he was flat on his back. If he wasn't dead then, he would be in a bit.

"Let's go." Remus grabbed a lantern from the ceiling.

Sébastien threw down the mace and picked up his discarded sword. He coughed as he ran after Remus down the hall.

The air above was much better, and Remus ripped off the mask as he coughed, trying to get clean air in. His chest was scratchy, although it could have been a lot worse.

"We're fucked," he told the Prince. "We can't go back-not with ten men dead and missing."

"We'll take Whisper and run. I'm assuming the rest of camp is still fast asleep, so we can be long gone. I have a money belt under my clothes. I figured in Midland, I should be prepared to run."

Thanks to the Prince's thinking, they could make it as long as they stayed ahead and kept their heads down.

With Lord Dubois and nine others missing, it'd be hard to cover that up or say "Oops." At that point, even Lord Rochefort's men would grow leery since those two had fought before. If they took the chance to search Calmerra or entered the Castle and went down, they'd see the corpses and guess the missing Prince and his companion were responsible.

They put out the lantern before stepping outside. Fortunately, they crossed paths with no one and left the city unscathed.

Whisper was still waiting for them, and he neighed as they approached. Sébastien stroked his nose before resting his forehead against the unicorn's neck. Whisper nudged Remus's shoulder, likely wondering why they smelled so odd.

"It's smoke, but we're fine, buddy. Or as fine as we can be. Sébastien, if we're going, we need to head south and figure out how we'll get on a boat without anyone finding out who we are."

Sébastien took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I tried to lock you out."

"I know. I can see why you were suspicious but don't do that again. Let's go."

Remus swung himself up into the saddle and gave Sébastien a helping hand to get behind him.

"You've got the evidence, right?"

"Yes."

"We got an adventure ahead of us," Remus told Whisper. "It's just us three now."

Whisper whickered as he started cantering.

Sébastien wrapped his arms around Remus's middle. Perhaps he imagined it, but it seemed to be a little tighter than earlier. He could only hope that he'd proved himself enough and burned away some of the doubt that constantly lurked in the Prince's mind. He wanted to hug the Prince and try to take away something of the past years and tonight. They had to get away and put distance between themselves and the camp before the others woke up and realized what was wrong.

Without urging, Whisper broke into a gallop and carried them away from Calmerra.