The sound of heavy footsteps echoed off polished, hardwood floors as Jacob strode down the hallway that led to Caspian Maydestone’s bedroom. The prince was due for another lesson with his private tutor at nine that morning, but he had yet to turn up for breakfast. Normally, the guard wouldn’t have gotten involved in the royal family’s business, but Ellie, one of the maids, had discreetly asked him to make sure that Cas didn’t oversleep. Anytime their prince and their king butted heads, Atlas went into one of his moods that made working at the palace miserable for everyone. If they had a spat early in the morning, the day would be torturous for all the servants who had to wait on their monarch in the next sixteen hours. Ellie happened to have been assigned to be the king’s next bedside attendant, and she dreaded the thought of being reprimanded until the sun went down.

So, taking pity on the poor girl, Jacob went to gently remind Caspian that he had a lesson in one hour. He stopped outside the royal’s door and knocked twice. “Your Highness,” he called. “Breakfast is waiting for you downstairs.” Leaning closer to the wooden panel, he waited for a reply, but none came. He knocked again, “My prince?” Once more, there was nothing. The guard knitted his brows. [i]He must have gone to the bar after the address,[/i] he thought with a roll of his eyes. If Caspian was hungover, it was going to be more of a challenge to get him out of bed. “Your Highness, I’m coming in,” he declared, turning the handle and stepping into the room. “You’ve only got one hour until—” His tongue failed him as he saw that the prince wasn’t in bed. In fact, the bed was still made from the previous day.

Leaning forward, he peered into the adjoining bathroom, but Caspian wasn’t there either. It looked like he hadn’t come back to his room at all the night before. He folded his muscular arms over his chest, wracking his brain to think of a reason why the future sovereign would have stayed out all night. And then it hit him. “Fuck,” he swore, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. He remembered how Caspian had looked at the girl who’d moved into the palace a few days ago. The prince had probably spent the night with her and fallen asleep in her bed. [i]It’s a damn good thing I got involved,[/i] he grumbled inwardly, marching back out of the room to look for the missing royal in the amnesiac’s room. [i]If King Atlas finds out about this, he might end his own family line.[/i]

When he reached the correct door, he knocked loudly. “Your Highness, I know you’re in there. You’d better make yourselves decent and get to the kitchen before His Majesty wakes up.” He paused, tapping his foot impatiently against the floorboards, but no sound came from inside the room. Not even the furious shuffling of bedsheets being tossed aside, or clothes being thrown on naked bodies. He groaned. Walking in on his future king in a state of undress was the last way he wanted to start his day, but he had no other choice. “Alright, I gave you a fair warning,” he called. “Now I’m coming in.”

Steeling himself for an uncomfortable confrontation, Jacob pushed open the door and then halted in the entryway, staring at the empty bed in surprise. No one was here either. Not Caspian nor the girl he had taken in. Immediately, he fumbled for the com device he wore on his belt, turning it on to connect to the other guards. “We’ve got a problem,” he growled, walking around the edge of the room to pull open wardrobe doors and search the bathroom. “I can’t find Prince Caspian or the girl who’s been staying in the guest room in the west wing.”

[i]Yeah, I was just about to call you about that,[/i] another guard sighed on the other end of the line. [i]They left the palace last night.[/i]

“They [i]what[/i]?” Jacob stopped in his tracks, gawping at the air in front of him.

[i]I noticed that the gate had been left open, so I pulled up footage of the grounds from around twenty-one hundred. It looks like they got out through the side door with the faulty wiring and took one of the emergency vehicles off the property.[/i]

“God damn it,” Jacob clenched his fist at his side. “Track the car. I want them back here immediately! We’re in the middle of a manhunt for Christ’s sake.”

[i]Understood, sir.[/i]

The line hummed with white noise as the connection was severed, and Jacob dragged his hands over his head in frustration. He had no idea what Caspian had been thinking, but he did know that he was going to have to report the prince’s little stunt to Atlas. He wasn’t looking forward to telling the king that his only son was nowhere to be found when there were still two rebels loose somewhere in the city.

--

Sitting in his cell in the dark, Cas shifted his weight uncomfortably, trying to get blood flow back down to his feet. While he’d been unconscious, his legs had been bent at an awkward angle and his ankles had been bound with more rope. He could feel the pins and needles effect that came before the recovery of feeling in his skin. He still didn’t know where he was or if he would even be able to escape, but if the opportunity presented itself, he was going to need to be able to stand up without toppling back over, so he stretched and massaged his muscles, trying to get himself in condition to run.

While he was working on that, he startled at the sound of a door opening somewhere nearby. Whoever had locked him up had just come into the room. Quickly, he laid back down and closed his eyes, hoping his captor wouldn’t catch on to what he’d been doing. He’d never been in a situation like this before, but he’d heard enough stories about the Scourge not to trust its members to be nonviolent. As long as they thought he was being a ‘good’ prisoner, he hoped they wouldn’t do anything to worsen his chances of getting out of this mess.

Hearing approaching footsteps, he opened one eye slightly to get a look at the person who was holding him hostage. However, when he did, his whole body stiffened against his will. It was Iris. Iris was standing outside his cell, untied and untouched. He’d already known in his head that she’d been responsible for his removal from his home, but actually seeing her on the side of the bars for members of the Scourge made him taste bile. She wasn’t the woman he’d thought she was, and now, because he’d been gullible enough to trust her—to fall for her—she’d gotten exactly what she had wanted. The rebellion had cut off the royal line. He wanted to throw up.

As she set a plate of food and cup of water down outside his cell, Cas pressed his cheek against the cool floor and kept his gaze pointed downward, avoiding her eyes. He was still too overwhelmed by everything to be hungry, but he was desperately parched. His mouth and throat were dry, and he was tempted to crawl over to the edge of his prison to down the entire glass in one gulp. But he couldn’t give her the satisfaction of ‘taking care of him’ in his darkest hour when she was the one who had turned the hands of the clock. He refused to take anything from her when he’d given her his heart, and she’d crushed it in the palm of her cold hand. Unless someone aimed a gun at his head and told him to eat, he’d rather suffer.

[color=#b97703]“Did you even have amnesia?”[/color] he murmured, unable to keep the venom-laced words from tumbling out of his mouth in spite of the fact that he knew he shouldn’t say anything to her. His voice was hoarse both from lack of use and lack of water. [color=#b97703]“Or was that just a lie you made up to get me to trust you?”[/color]