[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ZPETHbP.png[/img] Collab between [@The Muse] and [@c3p-0h] [sub]Location: The Jail[/sub] [i][h1]Part XI[/h1][/i] [hr][/center] Flynn didn’t interrupt. He watched, silent, letting Halcyon speak—letting him mock, muse, and meander his way through this new performance. Flynn’s green eyes followed every movement as Halcyon turned his back to them, flinging his tirade with casual ease, like time itself was his to waste. Somewhere beneath the layers of Halcyon’s all-knowing persona and maddening self-importance, a few things stood out. Flynn resisted the urge to glance at Amaya when Halcyon mentioned her taking the attacker into her own hands. Her grip around his hand tightened slightly, eyes cold and flat as the puppeteer’s words washed over her. The memory of how he and Elara had pleaded with her not to put herself in danger again resurfaced. How she had pushed back, defiant as ever, unwilling to entertain the idea that her life was worth spending valuable resources on. Or, seemingly, that she might be important to this world—[i]to them[/i]. He shoved the memory down. When Halcyon claimed he hadn’t known of the attack itself, Flynn’s annoyance ebbed, just slightly. He wasn’t sure he believed a word of it, but he quietly folded away the detail that Halcyon had helped the Priestess. Then Halcyon brought up his father again. Flynn tensed. The urge to defend his father surged like a reflex—hot and sharp in his chest, fire in his throat. But he swallowed it. Said nothing. Tried to remember the subtle warning Amaya had given him. His eyes remained fixed on Halcyon’s back, studying the tattoo. He wasn’t sure if the man was truly mad, but one thing was becoming clearer: Dawnhaven mattered to him. Aurelia didn’t. And that raised a question Flynn had never let himself linger on for long: If lines were drawn—Dawnhaven on one side, Aurelia or Lunaris on the other—what would he do? Would he choose? And if he did… where would Amaya stand? The thought gripped something raw and tender in his chest. He shoved that down too. One crisis at a time. When he finally spoke, his voice was steadier than before—less edged, but still distant. Still guarded. Still untrusting. [color=337d71]“I never said I blamed you for the attack,”[/color] he began. [color=337d71]“But I do question your true motives. I question how far your so-called loyalty goes. And I question why you speak in riddles instead of speaking plainly.”[/color] He paused, gaze narrowing. A glance toward Daphne, as she quietly offered Amaya a chair. Then toward Amaya herself, gauging her expression—ever watchful for any flicker of emotion she might let slip through body language rather than words. The Princess pulled her eyes away from Halcyon to once again take in the tall Lunarian guard – tried to swallow down her nervous energy, her swirling emotions as the guard’s familiar armor glinted in the candlelight. The guard on one side, Halcyon and his torrent of words on the other… Amaya fought the urge to step closer into Flynn’s side. But as she tried to control herself, to wall herself carefully away and keep her reactions and thoughts hidden – there was that gaping void where her magic should’ve been. An absence of force to push again, an emptiness as her grip tightened reflexively around nothing at all. It was more distracting than if there’d been a storm to weather. She tried to step back and take in the scene as she felt the weight of their attention on her. Flynn and his stubborn fierceness. Halcyon and his barbed words and outlandish claims – and the tattoo that he seemed to brandish like a weapon in its own right. The guard, awkward and out of place as she continued to insert herself in the mens’ heated discussion and offered… [i]consideration.[/i] A kindness presented to Amaya, unnaturally inserted into a space where it didn’t belong. But given all the same. Part of her – proud and untrusting, too ready to take offense that [i]she[/i] had been offered a chair alone – wanted to decline on principle. Wanted to shrink away from this guard and what her armor represented, wanted to search her soft, awkwardly given words for razor edges. Why else would her words sink so sharply into Amaya’s core, if not for a hidden blade? [color=d15e5e]“Thank you for the offer,”[/color] she finally said, a soft smile pulling at her lips. Her free hand came to touch gently against the back of Flynn’s palm, just a moment before she turned to meet his eyes. [color=d15e5e]“But perhaps I should step outside, instead. The runes are quite taxing.”[/color] Her gaze was steady as she held Flynn’s. His brows pulled together faintly, a wave of unease tightening in his chest. Searching her eyes, he silently questioned the choice. But he’d said she should stand where she chose to, hadn't he? And if this was her choice... he gave a small nod, barely visible. It wasn’t a lie – the runes were distracting. [i]Disorienting[/i]. Emptied of her magic, Amaya felt too thin and insubstantial, too… [i]powerless.[/i] A mote of dust in the air, invisible but for when a strand of light shined on it. But the guard was a distraction too, with how she kept chiming in as Flynn tried to hold the interrogation. Worse yet, she was a set of unknown eyes and ears – [i]Lunarian,[/i] at that. The thought twisted something bitter and complicated in her gut. She thought of the Lunarians they’d come across today – people who were meant to be [i]her[/i] subjects, [i]her[/i] priority. But Halcyon was throwing out accusations and claims about Flynn’s family. Unsubstantiated or not, whether Flynn was [i]concerned[/i] or not… perhaps this was a conversation best had in private. Away from ears that might listen for potential leverage against the Aurelian royal family. And Flynn… well, something told her that whatever she missed of the conversation by leaving now, he’d likely inform her later. The thought was another knife between her ribs. Amaya cast one last glance at Halcyon and his eyes that seemed too piercing. His smile that seemed too knowing. He sent a chill through her, even as she remembered the way he’d stood over her, a threat in his eyes as he’d warned her attacker away. Pulling her eyes away from him finally, hands still tight around Flynn’s, she finally turned her attention back to the guard. [color=d15e5e]“Would you escort me?”[/color] The guard, guileless and unassuming as she’d seemed throughout this entire interaction, nodded easily and stepped towards them. Amaya couldn’t help the way she shifted slightly towards Flynn in response. But the guard only handed him the key to Halcyon’s cell, with the simple request to return it to her upon their departure. Then she looked to Amaya expectantly, waiting to follow her cue. She hesitated. Her fingers were reluctant to unwind themselves from Flynn’s. She turned to meet her green gaze, focused on her as intently as ever. Her expression flickered – then with one final squeeze, Amaya forced herself to let go. Sliding the cell key into his pocket, Flynn watched them leave, silently committing the guard’s face to memory. Amaya was in her care now. And the thought twisted something in his gut. Their footsteps echoed softly against the stone floor as the two women made their way to the door, out into the Lunarian landscape. And then the door clicked shut and the Aurelians were alone. The space beside him felt hollow. His hand cold. Her absence visceral where her fingers had once fit between his. Her silent counsel, gone with her. He’d try his best to hold onto it, even without her beside him. Turning his attention back to Halcyon, Flynn studied the man in the low light. [color=337d71]“If you’re so truthful,”[/color] Flynn said, [color=337d71]“then why do you call me brother? You’ve offered no proof. I’ve seen more than enough people claim royal blood to know how often it’s a lie. So is that all this is, then? A ploy to tarnish my father’s reputation—for some grudge you hold against him?”[/color] [hr][sub]Interactions: Gadez [@Dezuel], Daphne [@PrinceAlexus][/sub]