THIRD POV:
The air of the Northern Fortress was no longer just cold, it was thick with the scent of blood and the acrid smoke of pitch.
Ardelle ran. She didn't see the swinging blades or the falling bodies, she only saw the image of Kaldric's face.
Not the man who had kissed her neck with such desperate heat, but the Commander who had looked at her with the cold irritation of a general burdened by a nuisance.
'I should have known…' She thought sorrowfully.
Her mind was a fractured mess of Gawain's touch and Kaldric's words.
She was so blinded by her own heartbreak that she didn't hear the gallop of horses approaching.
"Huh…?" Her senses finally snapped.
In her mindless flight, she turned into the stables, hoping for a place to hide. Instead, she ran straight into a crowd that had breached the perimeter.
"Well, well," a dangerous voice came that turned her rigid.
"Look what the storm brought us,"
It was the Head of the Rebel Troupe, his eyes gleaming with malice, checking her out.
"That's the Pillar's bride!" One of the raiders shouted, pulling his horse alongside.
"But the Commander discarded her. We saw him shout her down in the courtyard. She's useless as a hostage."
Useless as a hostage. No matter how piercing it was. It was the truth. She thought she had accepted yet it hurt.
The leader looked down at Ardelle, who hung lifeless in his grip, her spirit seemingly extinguished before her life even was.
He let out a dark laugh.
The leader looked down at Ardelle, his grip tightening until her jaw clenched, trying to suppress the pain.
He saw the hollow look in her eyes, the look of a woman who had already given up.
"If she's useless as a hostage," the leader sneered.
"Then we will simply present her head to him. A gift for the Great Pillar to remind him of what happens when he leaves his home unguarded."
The Courtyard.
The last of the immediate threats had been neutralized. Kaldric stood over a pile of fallen rebels, his sword dripping.
The victory was nowhere to be found on his face though.
The adrenaline was fading, and in its place, a sickening, cold clarity was settling in.
The torn dress. The look in her eyes.
"Ardelle…" he whispered, spinning around to search for her only to find their room empty.
He realized with a jolt of horror that Gawain was nowhere to be seen and Ardelle had not returned to the room but the stable– the very place the rebels would use for an escape.
He sprinted, his heavy boots thundering against the stone. He rounded the corner of the stable doors just as the lead troupe began to gallop out.
"Stop!" Kaldric roared, charging forward, losing his composure when they were prepared to escape… with his bride.
He was too late. The horses were already in full stride. He saw her, draped across the front of the leader's saddle like a prize of war.
Their eyes locked.
"Ardelle…. No… Don't take her."
Kaldric's heart stopped. He expected her to scream. He expected her to reach out for him, to beg for the protection he had so cruelly denied her minutes ago.
"Don't you dare…!"
He extended his hand, his fingers straining toward her, a silent, desperate plea for her to give him a reason to leap into the path of the hooves.
But Ardelle didn't scream. She didn't reach back.
"Be ready to bid farewell to your bride, Commander!!"
She looked at his outstretched hand, and then, with a slow, agonizing deliberation, she lowered her head in defeat.
She did not seek him.
It was as if she were telling him: You already let me go. Why reach for me now?
"ARDELLE…!!!"
The cry was torn from his throat, raw and agonizing, but the horses were too fast.
They vanished into the snowy night, the sound of their hooves swallowed by the howling Northern wind.
Kaldric stood alone in the mud and the blood, his hand still extended into the empty air.
The Commander of the Obsidian Pillar, the man who had never lost a battle, stood defeated by the silence of a girl who no longer believed in him.
TO THE BANDITS,
"You said he discarded her then why did he scream like this?" The Head snarled, worriedly glancing if the Commander is approaching like a madman or not.
"He is the bride after all, Boss. Even a burden, but under his ownership. Lord forbid the commander shares what is his." One of them sighed.
"Hmm, fair point." He hummed, caressing the side of Ardelle's face who did not move an inch, "Especially when she is such a good girl."
They took her back to one of their bases.
They had chained Ardelle to a pillar, her wrists caught in rusted shackles, chained in the open for everyone to be a display and do whatever they pleased with her.
The cold here was different from the blizzard or the streets, it was a slow, biting teeth-chatter that seeped into her soul.
The rebel leader stood before her. He backhanded her, the force of the blow snapping her head to the side. She bit her cheek, shutting her eyes yet the painful whimpering escaped her lips.
"Tell us the King's next destination," he hissed, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him.
"Which Earl is funding the Northern expansion? Speak, girl, and maybe we'll kill you quickly."
Ardelle spat a mouthful of blood onto the dirt at his feet. Though her heart was hammering in pain, anticipating the torture but her heart was rock-solid.
"Present the head you dragged me here for," She whispered, her features hardened, staring dead into his eyes.
"I have no words for you."
One of the younger rebels stepped forward, his face pale with nerves.
"Boss, we saw him at the gate. The Commander... he screamed for her. He sounded like a wounded animal."
"He'll come. He'll track us through the hell of the North to get her back. And when he walks through that door, we'll end the Obsidian Pillar once and for all." Another one added.
They could feel the air turning tense. The commander's arrival would be a death spell they must be prepared for.
A dry, hollow sound echoed through the air. It took them a moment to realize Ardelle was laughing. Her head was low but she was laughing, a mocking sound, baffling them.
"He won't come," she enunciated, her voice stone-cold, her laughter turning into a coughing that shook her frail frame.
"Don't waste your breath, and don't waste your traps. Lord Kaldric only has room for the King's law in his chest." She smirked, challenging them, repeating the word he had constantly engraved in her soul.
"Nothing and no one is above the King. Not even a wife he bought from the mud, you fool."
"You lie!" the leader roared, unsettled by her conviction, hitting her face again and grabbing a fistful of her hair.
"He reached for you! Every man in that saw his desperation!:
"He reached for his property," Ardelle countered, her voice growing cold and fierce despite the pain.
"But he will not break his vow for me. If he comes, it will be to execute you for the King." She stopped right at their faces that almost reflected the fatality her husband held in the battlefield.
"He will walk over my corpse without blinking if it means he can strike you down. He is a Pillar... and pillars do not bend for hearts."
They pulled away instantly, they flinched. The unwavering tone made them repulsed but also worried of how sure she was.
The rebels were infuriated. They couldn't use her as a lure if she wouldn't believe she was worth the rescue.
They wanted her to beg. They wanted her to be the weakness that would bring the Commander to his knees.
But she showed none.
"Tsk. We'll see how much you defend him when your skin is flayed," the leader snarled, motioning to his men.
"Break this bitch's spirit."
They began the battering. It was a systematic, cruel attempt to break her spirit.
Every blow was meant to extract a plea, a scream for Kaldric's help, or a secret of the Crown.
Ardelle screamed. She cried until her voice was sore and swallowing her own saliva became painful. Her body throbbing with endless pain, her ribs crack and her vision blur into a hazy red.
But between the sobs and the agony, she didn't utter a single secret. She endured every strike with a terrifying, silent loyalty.
Even as her heart broke for the man who had let her go, her soul refused to betray him.
She couldn't take everything from her everything after all.