Ett swallowed hard, though there was hardly any saliva to swallow. In her head, she was already plotting how to ground that feathered traitor. Boy, you're not cute anymore.
How did Guren even find out Eru's favorite food? They'd only ever seen each other from afar. Maybe he'd seen her feeding Eru once. Or maybe the story itself had shifted since she got here.
Son of a gun.
When in Rome, do as the Roman's do.
"Eru, come here." Ett beckoned. The bird ignored her. Of course.
Still, she caught a glimpse of Guren's arm--uninjured. So, the tragedy from the novel had been dodged. A tiny deviation. Surely, that wouldn't start a domino effect...right?
"Mother," Guren asked softly, "are you running away again.?"
Yes, son, I am. And stop calling me that; it gives me hives.
"The outside is dangerous. You should think twice."
Dangerous? Please. The most dangerous place is usually the safest.
Before she could reply, Xiwen came running, bowing so low his forehead almost brushed the floor, a silent plea.
Ett looked down at him, voice calm. "You will only care for His Majesty."
"Don't be like that, Mother."
The sarcasm dripped. "Didn't you send him to follow me? What's next, lock me up again?"
"Your Majesty," Xiwen began.
"Silence," she snapped.
"Mother," Guren said again.
That word again. Mother. It crawled up her spine like ice. She could pull the lever and end this scene, but her body wouldn't move. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. This wasn't thrilling, it was suffocating.
Calm, Ett. Breathe.
She forced herself to meet Guren's eyes. The light behind him made it impossible to read his expression, but she knew, knew, it was cold. He wouldn't harm her, probably, but that aura of his? It scraped against her nerves. The Guren in the novel had been a monster for a reason.
"Ett. Ett. He saw. Me. He. Saw. Me."
Eru's croaky voice cut through the tension.
I don't want to hear from you right now.
Her chest tightened; her breathing went shallow. Why was her body reacting like this? His presence pressed down like a vice. Control. Control.
She drew in a breath, but it only fed the panic. Great. Just great. Was she really this weak to his presence?
Guren, I tell you, you'll be the death of me. No kidding.
"You're Grace!" Xiwen. He knew this cough too well, it flared with emotion.
He bowed deeply to Guren. "Your Majesty, please, a physician---" But Guren didn't answer. Just stared, unreadable.
Ett looked away. She wanted out, away from him away from all this. She could deal with this entire cursed place but not him.
Every -ally word applied: physically, emotionally, mentally, psychologically. She wanted a one-meter buffer, minimum.
Was he thinking she was faking it? Or maybe he didn't want her to die, at least not until she'd served her purpose. Either way, she needed out.
Ett tried to glare at Xiwen, help please, SOS! "Shou---heave---shouldn't you be b-be protecting cough His Majesty right now?" She gasped.
Her gaze darted back to Guren.
Do you want to lock me up like your grandfather did?
She swallowed the words. Too cruel for a child. But he only tilted his head, smirking---mocking.
Ett's stomach turned. She swallowed down another mouthful of blood.
"Mother shouldn't blame the butler," he said evenly.
I know, she thought bitterly. Mother is sorry. Aiyussh.
"You're physically useless," Guren added. "Except for your head."
That stung, because it was true.
Ett looked away, muttering under her breath, "I'd rather die somewhere else."
"You're speaking to me." Guren coldly uttered.
Ett clamped her mouth shut. Of course she knew what he meant. She didn't want to leave, but how could she stay?
She didn't hesitate this time. Ett yanked the lever down. Just close it. Close it before I see him again.
But she lost her footing, stumbling backward. Her body hit the ground hard. Pain ripped through her arm, sharp and electric.
Hold it in. Don't scream.
Her vision swam.
"Empress Dowager...dear mother," Guren drawled.
Tears slipped down Ett's cheeks before she could stop them. He stepped closer---slow, deliberate, caging her between his arms. The light framed his face, the child and the ruler merging into something coldly inhuman.
His grip was iron. She couldn't move. Panic clawed through her as the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.
But worse than the pain was his gaze---icy, consuming.
She isn't his mother. Never will be.
Ett kept her mask in place. Guren smiled, a touch too wide, too knowing. Your Majesty, what are you doing?
"Stay here," he murmured, "and help me rule. I'll repay you by finding who did this to you."
What? Hehehe. I don't care! Just get off me!
"You can only be free here."
No. You're the cage.
He tightened his grip on her neck, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Mother."
The word hit harder than any slap. Cold, wrong, poisonous.
She bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to break, until the blood she'd been holding back spilled past her lips, staining his dark clothes.
"C-Cold..." she whispered as her strength failed. Darkness swallowed her.
"Bvstard...Ett...Felt pain." Eru croaked beside her, wings trembling.
"I'll let the cook serve you for dinner," Guren muttered.
"You can't. Ett. Ett."
"Carry her to her chamber," Guren ordered. "Fetch the Royal physician." Xiwen bolted. The knights moved in, clearing the corpses. Guren watched with deadly calmness.
"You killed them," Eru said.
"Are you going to tell Mother?" he asked, vice flat. "She already knows."
Guren sat beside Ett, studying her pallid face in the lamplight. The same way he'd look at a corpse, cold, distant. A thought flickered in his mind, dark and quiet. Should he burn her face?
The lamp flame danced dangerously close to her skin before he whispered, "Mother should rethink where to be buried."
When Xiwen burst back with the physician, he froze, blood soaking through Guren's shoulder. "Your Majesty, you're hurt!"
"Oh," Guren said mildly, flexing the arm. "It's fine."
"Doctor, please," Xiwen urged.
"See to the Dowager first," Guren commanded.
Xiwen hesitated, then obeyed.
The boy stood still, watching the knights drag away bodies. Bleeding, unflinching. A child who'd never learned warmth, and a mother who'd never learned love. Bound by title, not by heart.
Xiwen glanced at the painting of the boy with the wooden horse. Once, he'd been innocent too. Now, he was only a shadow of what could've been.
The Adiand royals, Xiwen thought, have hearts made of winter not of the moon.