Prince Samson's POV

I haven't allowed myself to rest since our return. How can I close my eyes and shut out the world when there is so  much I have left to take care of? This is not my home and I do not even have a reason to please the courts here, but I cannot help but feel the need to take these things into my own hands. If Lyra's own parents seem to be against her, how could I leave her here to fend for herself? She is strong, but she needs someone on her side, whether she sees it or not.

The dungeons smell as rank and musty as ever, but this time I wander down into the dark, slimy depths by myself. Thomas and the others were in no condition to accompany me, so I neglected to tell them that I was leaving. There is really no reason for them to worry.

I see little by the light cast from the torch in my hand, and I am careful with my steps on the grimy staircase. They really should have someone come down and clean this filth every once in a while- prisoners are not the only ones who have to suffer through the smell of human excrement and vomit. The heel of my boot slips on the slime under foot, and I have to grab the wall beside me to avoid falling the rest of the way down.

The heavy bag in my grasp slams against the stone as I right myself, making me wince slightly. I detest the sound of metal objects clanking against each other, because I know what lies in wait behind the canvas sack. These tools are heavier than a weight in my hands, as if the burden had long since sunk into my heart. I feel suffocated whenever I have to pick the bag up. If I were tossed into a lake, I would surely drown. A familiar feeling in my gut reminds me why I hate this job. 

The red eyes of rats are caught in the shifting shadows as they scurry about, uncaring of the man who steps close to their scurrying, padded feet. These rodents are no longer wary of humans and have known the depths of these holding cells their whole lives. They know their way in the dark and have been friends with it since they were born into this gruesome world of stink and slime.

I hold the sleeve of a clean tunic in front of my nose to help with the stench, though it does little to block the strangling odors from reaching my nostrils. It is no wonder that the King refuses to come here himself, even when this man attempted to murder his only child. Instead, he is allowing the Captain of his Guard to deal with the Duke's interrogation. When I heard this from the servants sent to tend to me, I decided to come here myself to see the would-be-assassin's face with my own eyes.

"Is that Samson? What could you want down in this hell hole? Shouldn't you be resting?" The booming of a familiar baritone is deafening in the entrapped air of the odoriferous dungeon. 

The light of my torch is soon cast upon two men standing on either side of a small cell, and I recognize both men who stand guard outside of it. The red hair of the grandiose man closest to the stair well catches my eye, and I immediately match him with the previous voice.

Claudius is in league with my motives, so we know each other relatively well. He and I at least are aware of each others motivations, which are all but one in the same. That is more than I can say about most of the people who work or reside here.

The second man is quietly standing at his post, watching me with calculating eyes that glint in the firelight of the torch mounted on the wall across from him. He is one of Lyra's Guardsmen, and by the looks of him, he is smart. I'll have to watch how much I say in front of him, since I am unaware of where his elegance lies.

"I should be, but I cannot with things being so loosely run," I say in answer to Claudius' previous question, hearing how tired my voice sounds. I gesture at the shadowed figure in the back of the cell, most likely tied to the chair they sit in. "Has he said anything?"

"Oh, we've heard plenty, alright. A lot of things come from this boy's mouth- we had to gag him to keep him quiet." Claudius responds, stepping aside slightly to let me closer to the barred cell.

"None of his babble was entirely useful, though. He continues to insist that we kill him." Cam puts in, looking from Claud to me. He has dark circles beneath his cognac colored eyes, but his posture shows no signs of exhaustion.

I step closer and tilt my light close to the bars, peering through at the captive. "Tell me, do you plan to make this simple, or would you rather this night become endless and excruciating?" I ask rhetorically, continuing when the figure lifts their head. "It is your preference, but I recommend that you take the second option I've offered. Death is not a choice until the King gives the order. Until then, I have free reign over you, and I think you'll come to find me quite unpleasant."

"Oh, are you helping oversee the interrogation?" Claudius asks from my side, deep tone amused as he turns to look at the prisoner alongside me. "Good. You can be of some use to me, Samson the Terrible." His voice turns ominous as he uses the completely made up nickname. I've had many names given to me, but that is one I have yet to hear. It makes my gut twist uncomfortably.

I glance sideways at the monstrous man through the hair that falls into my eyes. "I would be honored to help, Claudius. Shall we begin?" I play along with his scare tactic, suppressing a smile.

The fear comes off of the prisoner in waves as he begins to struggle against his binds and thrashes against the secured chair. His muffled voice can be heard through the gag in his mouth, and I tilt my head as his wide eyes find mine, pleading. This one will cooperate, not at all like the man who flounced onto the castle grounds to threaten Lyra. I had to wait around for several hours until he woke up from the beating Lyra gave him- that Princess harbors more strength than she knows. 

"What was that, now?" I ask with a half-smile, nodding to Camiseal to unlock the cell door. "You said you would be happy to tell us everything you know?" I question rhetorically, eyebrows raised as I feign innocence.

With a questionable glance at Claudius, Cam draws a large, rusty ring of keys from his side, the metal clanking heavily together in the damp, dark place. The red haired brute and I step into the cage, allowing Cam to shut the door behind us.

The sound of the metal alone seems to send the prisoner into another panic, as he lets out a muffled, desperate cry through the bundled cloth in his mouth. The light from my torch illuminates him, glinting off of his wide, moist eyes. I know that look all too well- I see it every time I am sent to do these evil things.

From closer up, I recognize this man from the day I left here. He and three others were having a noon day meal with the King, Queen and Lyra. I recall the angry look in her parents' eyes when Lyra showed up not only late, but dressed in men's clothing. He was a guest here, and he dared to turn against the royal family? That is one of the worst kinds of sins a man could commit.

I set the bag in my grasp down heavily, allowing the contents inside to clatter noisily against the stone. I hand the fire in my grasp to Claudius, and he holds it to give me some lighting and the use of both hands. I do not smile as I roll the sleeves of my tunic up to my elbows, allowing the air of doom to settle like a thick dust into the cell. I crack my knuckles and take my time walking to the chair, allowing his fear to accumulate. I pray that I won't have to use the horrid tools at my feet tonight.

The Duke looks positively pathetic- his dark hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat, dark eyes wide with fear and his once white clothes are already torn in more than one place and colored with grime and dirt. His skin is purple with bruises and it looks like his hand has been broken. Dried blood dyes his forearm, and I wonder where the deep bite mark in his flesh had come from. Surely Lyra hadn't bitten the sod- even she has more class than that. Judging by his overall damaged condition, it looks like he had been kicked down the flight of stairs I just descended and had not met with a graceful landing. 

I nearly feel sorry for him, until I remember that he attempted to take the life of Lyra. A new rage boils the blood in my veins, and I move to stand behind the man, tearing the knot from the gag with unnecessary force.

The Duke lets out a cry of pain as some of his dampened hair falls to the ground, along with the dirty rag that had been stuffed into his mouth. "I didn't want to kill her!" He gasps, desperation coloring every word.

I grab a fist full of his thick locks and yank his head back, pulling a dagger from my side and grazing the tip against his exposed throat. "Is that so? Please, enlighten me then. Why did you attempt the life of Princess Lyra?" My voice is hard and I can't bring myself to care. This man nearly killed her- he deserves to die for the attempt, whether he is the one behind the idea or not. I push the sharp knife harder against the soft flesh of his neck.

"M-my parents!" He sucks in a breath as the cool blade nips his skin. "Please, you have to believe me! My parents are the ones behind this, I swear! They threatened to kill the woman I love if I didn't try to kill the Princess!"

"Hmm," The curious noise in the back of my throat sounds cruel. "And why would mama and papa want their own princess killed?"

The Duke presses his lips together, afraid to answer my question. His dark eyes are clouded with more fear for someone than I could bestow upon him. I will just have to change that, then.

"Oh, you aren't about to clamp up now." Claudius says, then comes forward to crush the bare toes of the prisoner beneath his booted heel.

The Duke lets out a horrible cry as his foot is broken, but he doesn't move his head. "If I tell you, they'll kill her!" He gasps through rugged, pain filled breathes. "Then they will have me killed for the failed attempt, or worse!"

"If you don't tell us, I'll make sure you live to see me kill her in front of you," I snarl into his ear. I take my blade from his neck and flick my wrist against his arm, the blade cutting a new line into the flesh there. "Tell me what I want to know, and I'll be certain your love is safe."

The Duke makes a pained sound as my dagger bites into his skin. "Do you swear it? You will keep my Annelise safe?" His voice is strangled against all of the pain he must feel, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"I swear it. Tell us the truth of what you know and she will be brought into safety, where your parents cannot find her."

He nods and a tear escapes his eye, making a path through the grime as it slides down his cheek. He is telling the truth about this Annelise of his, and I was not telling a lie. I will protect this girl if I am told what I wish to know.

After a moment and several more tears later, he speaks with a voice thick with pain and sorrow. "I believe that you know why my parents want Lyra killed, correct?"

The bridge of my nose pinches in a growl, and I am increasingly aware of Camiseal's presence out side of the cell. I feign ignorance of the topic. "What is this you speaking of? Why would anyone want Lyra killed?"

Thankfully, the Duke is too defeated and fearful to press for my knowledge and gives an explanation, instead. "There are many powers out for Lyra's head. They seem to think that her  presence is dangerous and holds significance in the future. I do not fully understand it all, but my father has my Annelise held somewhere and threatened to kill her unless I took the life of the Princess. Please, try to understand-" His voice is so pleading that it is simply pathetic.

"I have no sympathy for you, and it is best if you understand that. You tried to take away someone whom I hold very dear to me, therefore I have little pity for this 'love' of yours. Do not expect me to be so forgiving of your actions," I have come to stand in front of the prisoner, and I am quite aware of how hard my voice is in tone. I make sure to glare harshly, and am pleased when he cringes back into his seat. I swing the dagger in my grasp so that the firelight casts off of the blade. "In fact, you would do well to  remember who's side I am on. Certainly not yours. I promised your Annelise's safety under one condition: you tell me everything I wish to know."

He is quiet for a few beats, thinking as he stares at the knife in my hand. "I am glad that she is not dead. I never wanted any of this. If it wasn't for that dog of hers, I would have-" The Duke pauses to break into a sob. I do not know if he weeps for Lyra, Annelise, or himself. Possibly all three. "She should have moved. I gave her the chance to get out of the way. I know that she could have switched our positions and run me through faster than I could blink. But she didn't. The damned girl just stood there! I wish she had just killed me then," The Duke's head is hung in pure defeat. "I just threw the sword at her."

Now confused, I wipe the bloody blade in my hand on my trousers, my brow knitting together. Lyra did not move herself out of harms way? What the devil is the matter with her? "What dog? The Princess would allow herself to be slaughtered by the likes of you?"

Claudius clears his throat. "If I may, Prince."

I wave my dagger at him without looking. "Speak."

"Lady Lyra was transfixed with something that no one else could see from our distance. I was present at the time this Duke attacked her, and it is true, she did not defend herself. Sir Lucan saved her life, while the black beast her father gifted her held him," He nods towards the prisoner. "Stationary until we could reach them. He then went about screaming that we kill him."

I turn to the red haired giant, more confused than ever. "Who in the hell is Sir Lucan?"

"One of the few men who joined the Guard while you were away. He is native to Aranal, prince status, if he held a title." Claudius says, head lowered respectfully as he speaks.

"I should like to meet this man in the morning, after I see the Princess," I turn back to the Duke, who looks as if he wishes I would forget about his presence. "Perhaps she will be able to clarify this mess for me. As for you, we are not finished here. Tell me more about these parents of yours."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sam's POV

The rest of the night is filled with screams, though I am glad to say that I did not have to use any of the tools in the blood crusted sack at my feet. By the time I picked it back up to leave an unconscious Duke tied to a chair, the rats had begun to nibble at the rough material, and I shooed them away with my feet. I had drug myself to my chambers and allowed my eyes a few hours of sleep before I rouse again.

When I have changed my clothes and bathed, I leave a tray of food untouched on my bedside table and head for Lyra's bed chambers. One man and a snake stand guard outside of her door, and I narrow my eyes at the King's dog. I do not know why Lyra doesn't send him away.

"I wish to see the Lady Lyra." I state, coming to stand in front of them.

"I am not aware if the Lady is allowing visitors yet this morning," Says a tall, orange haired Guardsmen. I see the purple circles beneath his eyes and the disheveled tunic beneath his leather vest. The poor sods have been standing here all night without a wink of sleep. "Allow me a moment to find out if she is ready for guests."  With that, he cracks the door behind him and peeks his head in. He asks someone on the other side a question, but I cannot make out the full reply.

While I wait, I look down the hall way to my right, where footsteps have started towards me.

Lance looks as tired as I feel, but he wears clean clothes and bears a washed face. "Samson?" Comes his deep, ringing voice. It takes the large man several steps to close the gap between me and the bedchamber door, strides long and purposeful. "My Prince, welcome back. I was on my way to see how you were fairing."

"Ah, there you are, Lansing." I say as the Knight stops to bow before me. "Stand up. I trust you've taken care of Lyra?" Of course I am aware of the attempt of her life, but I wish to see if this man still remains truthful to me.

When he straightens, a look of guilt passes over his features like a shadow. "She was nearly killed. I was not fast enough to get to her- I should never have left her side, but she ordered me away."

"I see." I wish to say more on the matter, but Sebastian watches us with blue eyes as quick as a bird of prey. I assume that he knows some of what Lance and I are truly here for, if Aizen knows anything of it yet. He has so many eyes watching me, that I am sure he must know something of my organization by now.

The ginger haired Guardsmen reappears, bowing his head. "The Princess is ready to see you both. Please, go in."

Once I pass through the threshold of the inner door, I quickly become aware of the man standing beside the window beside Lyra's bed. The black hair and quick, cerulean eyes are no mistake- the leader of the mercenary group is in Lyra's chambers, clothed with the uniform of a Guardsmen.

I hold my tongue between my teeth and clench my jaw tight. Lyra knows what she is doing, I am certain there is a liable reason he is here, posing as one of her Guardsmen.

I scan the room to find Lyra sitting by the fire place, a stack of books nearly shielding her from my view. She looks up with expectancy, but I do not miss the way her face falls slightly with seeing me. She was expecting someone else, but who?

"Sam." She smiles and pushes away from the table, setting the book down in a way that hides the spine from my eyes.

I bow as she nears. "Lyra." When I stand, I am surprised as she wraps her arms around my neck.
"Welcome back." She whispers, and I find myself hugging her in return. I didn't realize just how much I missed this woman.

The moment does not last long, as the door behind is opens once more. When I turn, a giant creature comes bounding through the threshold, making a path straight towards me. I am knocked straight onto back before I can do a thing, with a huge nose inches from mine. This must be the beast Claudius mentioned last night.

"Lyra," I say calmly, turning my head to look at her beneath the crushing weight on my chest. "Who is this lovely creature?"

"Sage, Komme. Off of him." Her voice is full of command and the beast obediently abandons my chest to trot to her master, tail wagging. The dog sits by Lyra's feet and looks up at her with an adoring look, pink tongue lolling out of a sharply equipped mouth.

I slowly pull myself into a sitting position, sucking the sweet air into my lungs. My hand goes to the tender spot on my chest, and I rub it absently. "Sage, is it?" I ask Lyra, then turn to the dog, as if she could understand my words. "Now, Sage, that is not a polite way of greeting people. I would think your master would have taught you that by now." I finish with giving the Princess a pointed look.

"Be lucky that her greeting did not involve taking your head off." Lance says, reminding me of his existence in the room.

Lyra turns to him, a small smile playing her lips. "Exactly. She greeted you in a unique way, compared to how she all but ignores everyone else."

I rise to my feet, looking to the strange beast at Lyra's feet. The black mongrel holds my gaze with wise brown eyes, and I suddenly understand why Lyra chose the name Sage for her. "Well, she certainly has a strange way of showing her affection." I remark.

Lyra's bay colored eyes darken the slightest, and her voice softens. "How is my prisoner?"

My brow shoots into my hairline. "How do you know I went to see him?"

She smiles a little as she absently pets her dog's head. "Camiseal came to inform me of the night's events a little while ago, when his shift changed. Did you really render him unconscious?"

I swallow, terrified that knowing this side of me might make her wary of me. "Yes. What else did Cam inform you of?" I ask carefully.

Lyra sighs and steps away, towards the table she was perched in front of before. She doesn't sit in the chair's seat this time, but leans her weight against the arm of it. Sage follows at her heels and settles underneath the table. Lyra picks up a tome and flips through it without really reading anything. A moment later, she closes it and sets the book on top of a stack closest to her, finally looking at me again. "Everything."

I back track in memory, attempting to recall anything awful I may have said or done that could anger her. I come up empty, and am grateful for it. "Why do you insist on protecting this man? Claudius said you did not want him killed. Why? Any one else would wish their would-be-assassin dead as soon as possible."

Lyra chuckles a bit darkly, and runs her fingers through her tangled locks, wincing when she catches a knot. She fusses with it for a moment before untangling it successfully. "You sound like my father, Sam."

I suddenly wish I could take my words back. I do not want to sound anything like Aizen Baudry- I want nothing to do with him. "I apologize, I did not mean to offend you."

The princess waves me off. "Do you truly wish to know the reason why I do not want Danak to be slaughtered? I am disappointed that no one else seems able to see it," She shakes her head sadly. "I am trying to be a righteous woman about this. I do not want to be a ruler so quick to shed blood, if it can be avoided. I believe in my gut that Danak is a good man, and a good man should not be killed for one misstep."

I clench my fists at my sides. "One misstep? A misstep that nearly took your life, Lyra! An attempted assassination against a Princess is an unforgivable sin. How can you believe that Danak is innocent?"

Lyra's eyes flash with something in the firelight, a fraction of her old self. Of the person she was with the mercenaries. That is the fight in her. "I did not say that he was innocent. I said that the Duke is a good man."

"A good man or not, he must answer for his sins, Lyra."

She is quiet for a moment too long, and I step forward, afraid that I had made her angry. Before I get to her though, she stands and walks away, towards the fire place. I pause my steps and allow my arms to fall at my sides. "My feeling on the subject hardly matter, anyhow. My father will have Danak killed with or without my consent. Honestly, I doubt the King cares much of what I wish for, anyway. After all, he is the one who locked me in my bed chambers against my will."

I hate seeing Lyra in such defeat, and my heart stutters as I watch her, picking at the scabs of her knuckles. I want to tell her to stop, not to harm herself. I want to go to her, but my legs do not move. So, I stand there like a simpleton until the door is opened again.

When Lyra turns to look at her newest visitor, her eyes light up the way I wished they did when it was me walking through the threshold. I turn to look, too.

Jed stands in the door way, looking feverish and exhausted. He smiles at Lyra, and she rushes past me to his open arms. He buries his face into her shoulder length hair and holds her tightly against himself. She does not pull away from him.

I clench my jaw as my heart sinks somewhere into my stomach. Why do I wish that were me? Jealously is an ugly, heinous thing that I despise and rarely have to feel. I clear my throat. "I need to get back, there are things I have yet to take care of today." I lie. There is nothing here I have left to do, until Danak wakes back up. I think leaving this place soon would be a grand idea. Then I can work on my father's over throwing and take Whales for myself.

A numbness sets into my body, seducing the want that floods my heart. I am a Prince, and do not have time to waste of feelings I have for a girl who does not pay attention to me. There are plenty of women vying for my affection, and perhaps it is about time that I give it to them. My patience with playing these games is running very thin.

Lyra pulls away from Jed now to look at me as I pause beside her, bowing. She grabs my hand before I can leave, apparently catching on to my sudden change of mood. "Will I see you later? I have much I wish to speak with you about, yet."

I gently pry myself away from her, avoiding looking into her eyes. "If I have the time." And with that, I leave Lance where he is and take my leave, ignoring the eyes of the Princess on my back.

~

A/N

I have a question for you guys, because I've found myself curious... How many of my readers are male? I know that a lot of you are girls/women, but I want to know how many guys actually read and enjoy this story. If you are a guy, do you think I should change the name of this book to something more gender neutral? I would love to get your opinions for future reference.

As for the rest of you nuggets, I should probably just stop apologizing for such long waits between chapters, because I make you wait forever weather I apologize or not. I'll be honest, I lost motivation for a two weeks or so and had to wait for the mojo to return. But, alas! Here is your long awaited chapter, even though nothing really exiting has happened in this one. Please have patience with me, I don't have anything really mapped out for this story and it is only a first draft. They do say to write carelessly and edit relentlessly, right? Well, I just haven't really touched the editing bit, yet. But, I'm getting better, at least, so hopefully my grammar doesn't torture anyone anymore. (I honestly have looked back at earlier chapters and cringed. Multiple times. Really, the whole time I was re-reading was just one big cringe. I'm so, so sorry about that).

I haven't edited this chapter or anything, so let me know of any mistakes I'm sure I've made. Hope you nuggets enjoy and keep reading, and please don't die waiting for me to update again, I don't know how long it will take... writing is harder than it looks guys, it really is. Again, please be patient with your young, inexperienced author. Runaway Princess is my first really big book and it's like my baby, so I love feedback to help me improve it. Thanks a bunch nuggets, really.

Also (so sorry for the long note), I have deleted a few comments in previous chapters of readers getting nasty to each other, and I will do it again if need be. Please, don't fight with each other over petty things like grammar, it hurts my heart to see my nuggets squabble. Please, just read and be polite, we're all friends here.

So, this thus concludes chapter 50 of Runaway Princess...

God bless nuggets, until next time.

-A.