Royal Blood

IV: Rebel

"As he took her hand he gave her all she had been waiting for; a shiver down her spine."

~Atticus

*Three years ago*

"The cavalry brought in a group of rebels not but fifteen minutes ago." I peeked over the thick history book I was reading and saw that Lucia had waltzed into the library.

"Did they, now?" I asked focusing my attention back on the book, not particularly interested in hearing what she had to stay.

"Mm-hmm," she mused, brushing her black hair over her shoulder. She sat in a plush chair across from the lounge I was laying in. She put her elbow on the armrest and rested her chin in her palm; a sneaking smile played it's way onto her lips and there was a suspicious glint in her golden eyes that I didn't quite like. I sat up, putting the book down. Now I was interested. "What is it, Lucia? What are you dying to tell me?"

Lucia shrugged nonchalantly. "I caught a glimpse of the group-"

"And by 'glimpse' you mean snuck into the dungeon." I stated, raising an eyebrow.

"Still a glimpse." She bit back. I laughed a little. "Anyway, I thought it would interest you to know that one of the rebels looks a great deal like your beloved."

I blinked in surprise and sat up. A Dark doppelganger? That can't be unless. . .No, surely the duplicate would be dead by now. I shook my head at the thought. "You don't believe me." Lucia inquires. I simply glare up at her. She puts her hands up in surrender. I eye her suspiciously, not knowing whether or not to trust my thirteen year old sister's rather hyperactive imagination, but eventually get up and rush through the archway, heading to the servants quarters, but not before Lucia said " Don't look too eager!" To which I replied "Shut up, Lucia, or you'll be sent to the gallows the second after my coronation!" I was joking. Maybe. A guard passed me, and I managed to snatch a ring of keys off of him.

As far as I could recall, the dungeon was under the servants quarters, which was behind the kitchen, and when I got there I ran into the last person I wanted to see today.

"Lillian!" I said with a fake smile plastered on my face. Lillian. Lillian was my other lady-in-waiting and by far the demon I loathed the most. She always badgers me on every tiny, miniscule thing I do. 'Don't slouch'. 'elbow out, pinkie at a ninety degree angle'. 'Walk straight'. Oh, sometimes I want to chuck her off a balcony.

"Demons do not smile, your highness," She berated. My false smile immediately dropped. 'Well that's just not true.' I thought. 'Mother smiles plenty.' Old hag stuck up in her old ways

"My apologies," I grit out through clenched teeth, my lips barely moving. Lillian dismissively waved a hand in the air. "What are you doing down here in the rabble?" She looked around at the bustling maids and chefs, no doubt hastily preparing for tonight.

"Um, well I..." I was desperately looking around for an excuse. What was I supposed to say? 'oh no worries, Lillian. I just need to get to the dungeon to confirm that one of the prisoners really looks like King Dark.' "Well I allowed Sura to borrow my history book and must get it back, so if you'll excuse me." I shoved passed Lillian.

"Princess Adelaide Kathrynne Maeve Villaine!" Lillian latched on to my arm. "You know not to have any kind of relationship with the commoners!" I looked down at her hand around my arm and then looked back up at the old crone. I narrowed my eyes. "Lillian... Have you forgotten your place?" I hissed. "You may have been here since the dawn of time-" she gasps in shock "-but you obey me. I am higher ranked than you, I can interact with anyone in the castle-especially my lady-in-waiting, and I can speak with my father and have you thrown out on the road by twilight." With exact statement I stepped closer and stood taller, prouder. "Am I clear?"

"As crystal, your highness," Lillian muttered softly, letting go of my arm. With no hesitation I turned on my heel, searching for the dungeon door.

I came upon a big iron door with a rectangle cut out high enough for a man, probably for the guards to look through. Flipping through the keys, I finally found the one that opens the dungeon door, and strained as I opened the heavy door and fanned a few cobwebs out of my way. There were long windy stairs that led below the castle. The dungeon was dark and cold with a few lanterns mounted to the stone walls. As I walked down the rows of cells, I noticed the prisoners; men and women chained to the floor, dirty and mistreated. I knew my parents weren't the nicest rulers. . . But this?

In the last cell in the very back, there was a man sitting, leaning his head against the wall with his eyes closed. I walked closer and closed my fingers around the rusted bars. 'oh my, Lucia was right. . . He does look like Dark.'

The lantern emitted a soft yellow glow on his face, bringing the caramel color of his skin to light, which was different from Dark's cool grey skin tone. His hair was the same inky black color and was messy and unkempt. He was bleeding from his temple and his arms were bruised. He was wearing a dirty white shirt with the sleeves pushed up over his elbows, a tan vest over the shirt, and tan pants. I pulled away and fondled the keys in my hand, tempted to open the cell door. The keys jangled. And the man's eyes opened.

I jumped back and looked into the man's eyes; they were brown like chocolate, not red. He hastily stood up and rushed forward, and I took a step back.

"Who are you?" he asked with a suspicious look in his eyes.

"I. . . I was just. . . You should be dead. . ."

"What? Can you help me? Please, I need to get out of here." He looked desperate. 'He even sounds like Dark. But less intimating.'

I shook my head. "You're one of the rebels, aren't you?" I held the keys tighter. "I'm sorry, but I can't. . . I can't help you."

"Why not?" He asked again incredulously.

I looked around the damp prison and bit my lip. "This was a mistake," I murmured. "I must go."

I turned to leave but the man grabbed my hand through the bars of the cell. I looked at his hand around mine and shivered; It even felt like his touch. "Wait," he said. "What's your name?"

"I'm. . . Adelaide," I murmured softly. "And, and you?"

"My name is Mark."