ততততত

𝐈 𝐌 𝐎 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍

I wait outside Ruslan's bedroom as the guards wander in and out, searching for an object I know is no longer there. My father stands amongst the chaos of it all, brewing with a devastating anger that bitters the hearts of everyone around him. Ruslan was supposed to remain a secret, a secret that was never supposed to be brought to life.

Hell has officially broken loose, and no one can reign it back in. Not even my father. He helplessly barks orders for someone, anyone, to find the crown, but even I know it's gone. Lost. Stolen in the most petty and predictable of ways.

It's the work of a thief.

Tobin.

I don't have to ask, because I know he must be the mastermind behind this. He's the only one that could sneak around the guards, only because I showed him the way. In the end, all of this is my fault.

I trusted Tobin, but I always knew there was something deceptive lurking beneath his tanned complexion. It's like the darkness that kissed him with so many scars bled beneath his skin, poisoning and corrupting his once beautiful soul. To think that I let him into my bedroom, into my life, into my heart. I kissed those lips as if they would bring me salvation from this betrothal.

Instead, he cut me with his sword and left a wound deeper than anything I've felt. He knocked my world down so swiftly that I struggle to find footing again. Not that I try to save myself now.

A tall boulderish figure stands beside me. Leighton emerges from the celebration, probably wondering where all the guards and my father disappeared off to. Next to him stands his right hand, Gareth, who's attention drifts over in my direction. I feel blank. Empty. Alone yet close to so many.

Leighton releases a hefty obnoxiously loud sigh. "I have received word that a theft has taken place here."

My father's grey eyes fume as they snap over to the spot where we stand. He marches out of the room towards Leighton, his fists curled into tight fists. It's a side of my father that he never reveals often, but hints of it always showed when Ruslan and I were put at risk.

"I assure you that we're taking care of it," my father's voice comes out calmer than I expected. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Is your defense so weak that you cannot even prevent a thief from sneaking inside?" Leighton scoffs.

"The defense of my castle is none of your concern. We're safe and secure."

"Rumour tells me it was a crown for a prince," Leighton growls, his eyes widening with a deadly blaze that scorches my father and I. "Care to explain how that might've began?"

He knows. Somehow, he knows of Ruslan's crown.

But... no.

It doesn't make a lick of sense. Tobin may be behind the theft, but how does Leighton know that the stolen possession was a crown? Rumours spread, but they don't spread that fast. No one aside from Tobin would know how to enter Ruslan's bedroom, because no one else should know of the passages. Yet, Tobin despises Leighton. Although he never confessed the truth with words, his scars were most likely delivered by the cruel blows of Leighton's power. There is no possible way that Leighton and Tobin would interact during the entire announcement.

It's a farfetched thought. Tobin can't possibly be hired by Leighton to do his dirty work, but the doubts build on top of one another until it all makes sense. I know nothing of Tobin's past. I know nothing but a name and a face. I'm unsure of where he was born, or if he has any family.

Tobin came into my life as a light, but that light was a false hope that brought me into his darkness. He did his duty, then left me shattered. But how?

I take one look at Leighton, and then over to Gareth. Gareth's blue eyes meet the gaze of my own, then lower down to the leather of his boots.

The realization shoots me like an arrow to my heart. I settle a hand to my chest, bracing myself as the world begins to drown away.

I've seen Gareth before he arrived at this castle.

It was the night Tobin first brought me to his home by the lake, a home sheltered by the mighty peaks of Mt. Elora. Tobin forced me into the homestead to stay hidden. From who? A commoner with the same stature and black charcoal hair as Gareth. Gareth dresses in proper Adoridian formal garb, but strip him down and redress him in the casual slacks of a traveler, and he'd be the same man I saw from a distance.

My recollection is a blur, but I am certain of this: Gareth was missing for portions of the evening.

How did I not catch this sooner? It was all laid out in front of me. Everything was.

When I snap back to reality, my father continues to bicker with Leighton.

"There's another heir to the throne," Leighton spits out. "I always knew you were hiding something, Orion. I thought maybe it was some fucking weapon."

"There is only one heir, and that is Imogen," my father rouses, pointing in my direction.

Leighton shakes his head in disapproval. "Your kingdom worships you, and yet you failed to inform them that you had a son? They'd scorn you for keeping that from them."

"Lagulon is loyal to the throne."

"So where are you hiding him?" Leighton seethes. "Did you send him to Thivalon? Across the Great Blue ocean? On top of a mountain hiding in a cave?"

"QUIET," the harsh volume of my father's voice silences the mutterings of the knights and guards that wander by. "I cannot handle your accusations, as I need to deal with this privately. I suggest you and your men get some rest so I can figure out this fucking mess."

Leighton raises his brows, almost accepting an unspoken challenge. "We will, but I want full updates at dawn."

My father nods, then gazes at me. "You as well, duckling. I'll have one of the guards escort you."

"But—"

"Please," he drops his voice. "I promise I'll tell you if we find anything out."

My father doesn't need to tell me anything. I already know the culprit. In my foolish negligence, I let myself fall for the master of deception. It only makes me wonder if any of it was real, or were these last few weeks were nothing but a fantasy. He wrung every secret about this castle from me with one flash of his crooked smile. I rode off into the midnight air with him, spared him from the desolation of my arrow.

Yet, he still exposed the one secret I longed for him to keep hidden.

Ruslan.

Sweet, sweet Ruslan.

As I barrel into my bedroom, Elena somehow sneaks in behind me. This is the last place I want to be, because this is where him and I met up when the sun set. He would sneak into this room and make it his own, tending to the hearth when the fire turned to embers. He'd lounge by the orange flickering flames and close those kind brown eyes. My heart aches inside. Brown eyes so kind, yet eyes so cruel.

I burst into tears, unsure of what to do now. The knowledge of Ruslan changes everything. If the people hear that King Orion had a son, they'll demand answers as to who Ruslan is. They'll want to be saved by a prince—a prince who died long ago. They'll want to know why my father lied to the kingdom, and my father will have to spill the truth: Ruslan is not his son. Queen Adirya had a son with another man before she had met the king of Lagulon.

"I heard about what happened," Elena begins, her words soft spoken, "about Ruslan's crown."

I turn to meet Elena's green eyes. "It was him," I mutter.

She crooks a brow.

"Tobin," I sob, my heart breaking at the seams.

"Are you sure?" she questions. "When I spoke with Lorcan, he had suspicions that Leighton might be behind this."

"It was because of Leighton," I mutter, then shake my head. "I should've known, but I... I didn't see it."

Elena takes a step towards me, then wraps her motherly arms around my sobbing body. In her embrace, I fully let myself turn to ash and stone. Tobin betrayed everything that I am, and now I need to navigate this on my own. In the nights, I relied too heavily on his arms and voice to calm the raging anxiety that burdened me.

"I'm a stupid fool," I mutter into her clothes. "My father will never forgive me for this."

She smooths my hair. "Don't say that. This isn't your fault."

"I'm the reason this all happened."

"You're not. This is too big for you to carry the weight of all the blame," Elena whispers. "You want to know what I think?"

I hum in response, but yet I still drown in my ever stinging heart. The betrayal hurts so deep within me I'm not sure how I can undo the pain.

"I know I'm hardly acquainted with Tobin, but I can tell he regards you highly," she mutters. "There was this look in his eyes when you talked. It's the way your father used to look at your mother, as if you were his entire world."

His entire world. If that were true, he wouldn't have destroyed mine.

Elena pulls away, our gazes meeting. "You don't ever have to apologize for falling in love, but I don't think you were the only one who did."

"Then why did he do this?"

Elena can't give me the answer. No one but that petty backstabbing thief can. There's missing pieces to the puzzle of Tobin that I still need to solve, but gods, the mere thought of that man suddenly infuriates me. Why go through all the risk of courting me if he was just going to betray me? He stole my heart and ran off with it, forgetting to take me with him.

But he's gone. He's not going to come back to this castle. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Never. He's out in the wild where he belongs.

I step away from Elena as a miniscule idea begins to brew in the depths of my mind. My beautiful fiery weapon, Tobin's voice whispers inside of me. I'm a weapon meant to decimate the cataclysmic chaos Leighton brings to my kingdom—but I am more, so much more.

I am a hunter stalking prey, following the tracks and the scent of a petty and predictable thief. I will hunt Tobin down, and I will strike him with my arrow. I vow to make sure he'll never forget the day he tampered with my fragile heart of glass.

At once, I soar through the room, gathering my cloak and quiver of arrows.

"Princess, you can't seriously be sneaking around out there," Elena retorts in a hushed voice. "With everything that's happening, you should stay here."

"I know where he is," I breathe, slinging my bow over my shoulder. "I need to know why he did this, and why he... why he chose Leighton over me."

"You can't even be certain that it was him—"

"Just let me do this," I beg, although I'm not sure why. Elena can't stop me. No one can, because I'm a raging storm about to reach the shoreline and obliterate everything before me.

Elena's pursed lips remain tight, but she nods her head. "Take the time you need. I'll keep your father distracted, if I have to."

The night is still young. There's a new vengeful fire inside of me as I hijack a horse from the stables, storming through the open gates amongst the crowds from the announcement. With every passing moment, I think of Tobin and his stupidly beautiful face that I adore yet hate.

He will never forget this night, and neither will I.

Because when dawn comes, one of us will be pierced by an arrow or speared by a sword.

And it won't be me.

── •✧• ──

Imogen is off to seek revenge on Tobin and demand answers. Also, as a side note, I definitely enjoy writing Tobin chapters much more than Imogen chapters, but I'm hoping that - by bringing back that rebellious Imogen spark - I'll gain more momentum for writing her!

If you could ask Tobin or Imogen anything, what would it be? I'd ask them what their favourite sandwiches are. Just kidding! I'm not actually sure what I'd ask them. [Tobin is definitely a grilled cheese type of man, and Imogen would definitely have peanut butter and jam on hers!]

Anyways, make sure to vote, comment, and share! I love you all so, so, so, so, so much!