Demetri

I watched the two horses gallop off into the distance. My heart was heavy as I watched them go. I knew there would be consequences for my choices. Grave ones if I was honest with myself. Nicolai would hate when he knew that I had set him up in such a way. It was a test, I would tell him. To teach him no to be blind when it came to your friends, for even they could betray you. It was a harsh lesson to learn, but those who learn it are far better off. Even if they have trust issues later on. He needed to learn the world was a harsh and cruel place, not one for chasing butterflies and picking flowers - or in Nicolai's case, racing chickens.

I had learned that lesson long ago when I was half starved to death and trying my skill as an untrained pick-pocket hoping towns on the back of circus wagons. I didn't witness the kindness of men until the group of assassins and outlaws found me. They taught me the trade. I wondered for a moment what it would be like if I had of stayed with my sister. If I would been better off? But then, if Gabriel's information was correct, I hadn't chosen to leave her in the first place.

I watched Little Miss - Alliar - disappear into the tree line. Her family must be worried sick. Her brothers, her sister. Gods, her mother must have aged ten years over the stress of losing her eldest daughter.

It would take Allair only a day to reach the River where Gabriel would be waiting for her. He would take her the back way, keeping off the road and hopefully, away from any bandits and outlaws roaming looking for a prize.

I just prayed everything went to plan.

The trade convoy arrived within an hour of Alliar's departure. I remained silent, holding my place just behind the King. The three traders looked a little worse for wears. Their clothes were covered in dirt and mud. Their faces were wrinkled and tried from the long days journey.

"Your Grace." They bowed to their King.

Jonathan, to his part as a generous diplomat, didn't immediately hound the men for the information he craved. No, instead he smiled, however forced it seemed. "My Lords. Come, you must be starved."

There was an urgency to his voice but he attempted to keep his composure.

We waited. We watched. The three men took their time indulging in food and wine while the King waited, his temper rising with every bite. After a few minutes of stuffing their faces, one of the travellers began to speak.

"We had a good run, Your Grace." He spoke with a mouthful of food. "Leece is open to trade arrangements if you're willing. They wish to trade some of their finest wine and crops for coal and lumber."

Jonathan didn't particularly acknowledge the information. He hadn't sent them there because he wanted to open a trade route. "And..." He prompted.

The three traders shared a glance. They were tentative. Their hesitation told me all I needed to know. They knew the truth.

"Out with it already." His temper snapped.

"We asked around about the missing Princess."

"And? Did you find her? Confirm her death?"

"Well..." The main talker took a long breath. I could see the conflict in his eyes. He knew what his words would mean for the Princess now galloping away from her death as fast as she can. "No one knew about the Princess, people saw her running through the burning streets."

"She was seen jumping onto the back of a wagon." Another trader said.

"She hasn't been seen from since."

"So you have no idea where she is?" Jonathan pressed the men.

The three men shared a look. "We know where she is Your Grace."

Jonathan blinked in surprise. "What? Where?"

"When we were speaking with the Kings hand about the Trade agreement we saw a painting of the princess." A dramatic pause. "She is your Mistress, my King."

Jonathan didn't blink. I wondered if he were even breathing.

"Excuse me?" The tone in the Kings voice was ice cold and deadly.

"Little Miss and the Princess Allair are the same person your Grace."

There was a long pause.

The three traders began to slowly sneak out of the room without being noticed, but they made more noise than they planned.

Jonathan didn't react. His body was tense, his fists were clenched so tight that his fingernails pierced his skin creating a small trickle of blood begin to run down his hand and drip onto the floor. Blood and dirt blended together on the floor.

I wanted to say something. I just didn't know what. Anything I said could be taken the wrong way.

Within a blink, so swiftly, the King was on the move.

"Where are you going?" I tried to keep up with him as he stormed through the camp. "What are you going to do?" I asked the two questions about ten times before Jonathan snapped.

"Move Demetri!" He pulled on his stallions reigns, freeing them from their ties around the tree. "Stay the hell out of my way." With one swift motion, Jonathan mounted his horse and galloped off into the tree line.

In the same direction Alliar had travelled only an hour before.

I prayed that was enough time.

***

By the time I reached the small cemetery, everything was quiet.

A body laid limp by a Brown horse tied to a tree.

Nicolai was still fast asleep.

The tonic had worked well by the looks of things. I bent down and pressed my fingers to his neck. His heart thumped steadily and his breathes were deep.

Standing tall, my eyes caught on the muddy tracks heading into the forrest. Small, light indentations in the mud showed the hours old tracks of Allair and her small mare. Easy tracks for Jonathan to follow - at least until she got to the river. Beside them, heavy chunks of mud were missing from the ground where Jonathan and his stallion galloped through at a harsh pace.

He was on her trail.

"Get him back to the camp and then move out. Nothing changes." I ordered the men around. The soldiers were hesitant for a brief moment but soon stepped up and continued with their orders. I turned to my fellow Shadow knights. The men who I knew better than I cared to admit. Horrick spent up, eager to hunt down the King and drag him back to the castle for the Prince and Princess to deal with. Although not much older than Jonathan, somehow, we all felt like his keepers. We were responsible for him, after all, we had influenced him far more than anyone else.

"Take the Camp back North."

"We'll track him down." Horrick ordered, gesturing behind him to Gideon - the silent knight who was was only just beginning to show signs of his age - and Bertram - the genius who Jonathan had always admired. Not exactly a terrifying group made to intimate the King into submission, but a group of men who, no matter the crime, would always be protected and respected by Jonathan himself.

"You better get started." I nodded to the men. "He's making up ground quickly."

***

Hey guys, another update like promised!

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