The Flowing Tide

Rache could only stare at the vast encampment stretched out before her.

From what she remembered, the original tale didn't spend much time explaining what the camp of Prince Donncahd was like whenever it appeared somewhere - only that it was there, the edge of the camp like the breaking waves on the shore of an endless ocean of violence and horror.

According to Auberon's Edge, to look upon Donncahd's encampment was to look upon the sea, moments before it would swallow the kingdom it camped in front of, sweeping away everything and leaving ruins behind.

It was all very poetic and over the top.

That's how Rache had felt about it when she read the book. Evocative, but not very descriptive.

But now, Rache understood.

She felt as though she could practically taste the desperation and despair of those caught up and churned into nothing by these men in the past, mixed with the dark, inky waters of hatred, flowing throughout the camp.

Her gaze turned, sweeping across the expanse of tents, fires, and soldiers. She took in the harsh reality of the military that had gathered at the borders of Aurania.

These were not the bright colors and cheerful attitudes of a victorious army coming to join hands in peace with an ally.

There could be no mistake.

Donncahd deliberately brought his military, a silent flex of power to remind Aurania that he was the one in control, granting them the blessing of union through marriage, instead of might.

Actually, considering how things would turn out...this was probably his father's choice.

Donncahd clearly didn't care for the union-through-marriage idea, given that as soon as he had a choice in the matter he burned the whole thing down.

Was he planning right now to do that?

Probably.

Or he was hoping for any provocation he could excuse to break off the engagement and attack.

Did Airie know this? It might have explained why Airie refused to even entertain the concept of marrying Donncahd, if she knew any misstep would get her nation killed.

But...no, surely not. If she thought that, she'd have fled in the night and had someone else come and abduct Rache.

More important than Airie, though. Rache had no idea when Laine would be free of Aurania, but she couldn't assume Airie would put much haste to fulfilling a request from a maid.

...She couldn't be certain Airie would do it at all.

In that case, she needed to find a way to confirm Laine was gone before she did anything foolish. But that would be for later.

For now....

It was not just her life she needed to protect. She was the bulwark that held back the tide of despair from crashing over Aurania, from sweeping Laine away.

It was...

A doomed errand. She knew that.

In time, no matter what she did, she'd fail. Some time after Donncahd became king, the tides would surge and wash her away with the rest.

It wasn't fair.

She wanted to rage and cry, to curl up and hide.

But at least for now, for the sake of the maid who cared for her - and for that desperate hope to find a way of escaping the floodwaters - she would hold him back.

...And now she was the one being poetic.

She shook her head as she glanced out of the carriage window. It was easy to give herself such affirmations now, while the imposing Prince of Sidera stood out of sight, supervising the packing up of the camp.

Even if she could feel his presence all throughout the camp, it wasn't the same as standing directly in front of him and feeling as if his gaze could strip her bare and burn her to ash.

But then again, perhaps that feeling was simply amplified by her knowledge that every time she looked at him, she was looking at her future executioner.

"My prince!" A soldier called, and Rache watched Donncahd's tall frame moving swiftly from the periphery of her vision.

"What is it? Why have you interrupted our departure?"

The guard saluted sharply. "A scout's report, your highness."

Rache gripped her hands in her lap and waited for the man's reply.

"Speak."

"We believe the visiting knight sent by Aurania was an attempt to spy on our troops and movement."

Rache swallowed, fingers twining and twisting.

"What?"

The cold tone in his voice made her feel shiver involuntarily.

"...The enemy is retreating to the castle, your highness, and the gate is closing behind them."

Donncahd looked over his shoulder, staring at her through the carriage window.

For just a moment, his cold eyes seemed to glitter with a dark amusement.

Her chest seized, and breathing stopped while he stared directly at her with those cold, red eyes.

Then he returned his gaze to the man speaking to him.

"Let them go. If Aurania wishes to know the might of Sidera, they may know that we do not hide in the shadows and scheme. We stand boldly in the light."

What...

Was that?

She swallowed as he walked away, out of sight.

Was that a threat?

Did he know that Rache was-

No.

She shook her head.

He would never allow a maid to take the princess' place as a political prisoner, even if he intended to tear up the treaty later. If he knew, she'd be dead already.

So.

She had no idea what that was about.

What she did know for sure, was that she didn't like it.

That unnerving stare.

The amusement of a cat playing with its prey.

She didn't like it.

...But for now there was nothing she could do about it.

The camp was not completely taken down, but the carriage lurched forward slightly, and began its journey toward Sidera.

She forced herself to look away from the swarming army around her, sitting back in her seat, staring ahead in the carriage.

Every rattle of the carriage, each step of the horses, it was another step closer to her doom.

But...

Even if she was just some pawn. A replacement for a hostage, a toy for a beast of a man.

She bit her lip, and gripped frail fingers tightly in her gown.

Airie and Donncahd both would find that she wasn't just going to lay down and wait for the butchering that the two of them had prepared for her without putting up a fight, first.