As we hurry through the shadows, a sense of grim satisfaction settles over me. I’ve given Reign a form of justice—one that echoes my own suffering. And I will do everything in my power to protect her from further harm.
Isit on Lukene’s bed, the soft fabric comforting against my skin, while Lilyana and Kylo engage in quiet conversation nearby. Using a drying cloth, I towel off my hair, relishing the memory of my long, hot shower—a much-needed respite after the chaos of the past days. When I first arrived in Lukene’s room, exhaustion had overtaken me, and I collapsed until Lilyana came in to wake me.
Lilyana leaves Kylo’s side, picks up a brush, and walks over to me, her expression gentle. “Let me brush your hair for you,” she offers, though it feels more like a request than a command.
“You are a princess… You have no business brushing a prisoner’s hair. I should be brushing yours,” I reply, shame lacing my words. “It’s fine, I can manage.” I extend my hand toward Lilyana for the brush, but she merely shakes her head.
Her mouth gapes open, brows raised, eyes wide with disbelief. “Reign, if that’s what you think of me, then you don’t know me at all.” She tilts her head to the side. “Where you are from and where you have been makes no difference to me. I see who you are, and I love every piece of you. I cherish the time we spend together. If I ever had a sister, I would hope she was exactly like you.”
“Vanna is your sister?—”
“She hardly counts,” she retorts, her voice laced with disdain. “Vanna thrives on power, control, and instilling fear in others—none of which I care about. She doesn’t care about family.” The conviction in her voice resonates deeply within me.
With a playful smile, she continues, “Since you brought up the fact that I am a princess, I command you to turn around and let me brush your hair.”
A smile slips free from my lips, but I do as she commands. As Lilyana begins to brush my hair, her movements gentle and soothing. Then she braids it expertly. “There! It’s perfect,” she exclaims, stepping back to admire her handiwork.
“Thank you, truly,” I respond, warmth swelling in my chest.
“Reign, you don’t need to thank me for doing your hair. That is what friends are for.” I notice Kylo hasn’t taken his eyes off Lilyana. His expression is one of quiet admiration, and it’s endearing to witness.
“Kylo, how long do you think it will be until Luke and James are here?” I ask, standing to stretch with a yawn.
“Aw, are you worried about him, Reign?” he teases, a playful grin spreading across his face.
“Never!” I chuckle, but my laughter is short lived when there is a knock on the door. Lilyana stands immediately and looks at Kylo, both wearing worried looks.
Kylo answers the door to reveal Raymon, Vanna’s personal guard. “The King and heir to the throne are requesting the prisoner come talk to them.”
“She will be right there. I will personally bring her,” Kylo asserts, attempting to close the door, but Raymon thrusts his foot in the doorway, halting the movement. My heart races, dread coursing through my veins.
“No, I was commanded to escort her. She comes with me.” Kylo turns to look at me, frustration and concern etched across his handsome face. He closes his eyes for a moment, as if weighing every possible scenario.
“Come, Reign. I will walk you with Raymon to the throne room.” Kylo extends his hand toward me, but Lilyana steps forward, her expression fierce.
“Absolutely not!” Kylo snaps, trying to halt Lilyana from coming. “Lilyana, I?—”
“Kylo, I am coming. Nothing you can say will make me stay. I have more sway with Vanna than you do.” After a moment of deliberation, Kylo nods subtly. We exit the room and follow Raymon down the dimly lit corridors.
When we arrive at the throne room, the atmosphere feels heavy with tension. The King and Vanna sit upon the grand dais, the absence of the Queen palpable. I approach the dais and stand before it, while Raymon and Kylo take their places to the side. Lilyana walks up to Vanna’s throne, her posture regal.
“Why are you back? I thought you were to wed Prince Elliot or assassinate him? Unless you have the answers we are looking for?” Vanna’s voice drips with disdain, her gaze cold.
Swallowing hard, I answer, “Prince Elliot discussed some things with Prince Lukene. He has demands of his own for the cure.”
“So, he rejected you,” Vanna scoffs, her tone almost gleeful. “Should have figured a Drifter couldn’t win over a handsome prince like Elliot. He is hard to please.” Jealousy laces her words, and I can feel the weight of her animosity.
“Actually, he said he was smitten with me,” I counter, my voice steady despite the tension in the air.
“Therefore, you weren’t good enough, as I said.” Vanna rolls her eyes, then turns to the King. “Father, what was the punishment? Death?”
“No!” Lilyana cries, dropping to her knees beside Vanna and grabbing at her skirt. Vanna reaches to stroke her face. Her eyes go blank, like giant voids of nothing.
Kylo rushes to the dais, gripping Lilyana’s arm and pulling her away from Vanna’s touch. “I am sorry, Princess Vanna. I will take her to her room for you.” Vanna’s face shows pure shock and disbelief briefly before she narrows her eyes toward them, and I am not sure which one she is looking at. Lilyana digs her feet in the stone, halting their movement.
“I am not leaving,” Lilyana snaps defiantly.
“Very well. Stay, sister,” Vanna concedes, turning her gaze back to their father. “What shall the punishment be?”