Royal Disaster

the disastrous comfort attempt

a.n. thank you all of you ALL OF YOU for 6K reads and 300 votes! y'all are amazing!! i appreciate every single one of you! 

Before I could jump out of my seat, Arthur was in front of me, a steady hand on my forearm as I asked, "Which wharf?" I didn't spare Arthur a glance, nor did I care that he was holding me down, as if I were going to pounce.

Kurt pressed his lips together, gaze darting to Arthur like he was asking for permission. I expelled an irritated breath as I repeated my question through gritted teeth. "Kurt, which wharf?" But it didn't seem to make him budge.

Then North came in, a grim look on his face that grew even grimmer when he looked from me to Kurt to Arthur. His back was ramrod straight, shoulders tensed like he were ready to fight and he was looking straight at Arthur. He was avoiding my gaze and the implications of that sent a fearful shiver down my spine.

My gaze stayed on his face as he said, "There's some more news." The somber tone to his voice added to my worry and I, for once, was thankful of Arthur's grip on my arm because I felt my knees ready to buckle. Without knowing it, my hands flew to grip his arm and held it tightly.

"What is it?" Arthur's voice sounded strained, obviously expecting the worse. So was I.

North's gaze shifted briefly and I got the hint. If they were really asking for his permission to tell me, then obviously this wasn't anything good. Frustration bubbled up within me and I stepped forward, against Arthur's hold, barely controlling my voice. "What is it?"

When they remained silent, I spun on my heel to face the boy holding me up. "They shouldn't have to report to you before telling me anything that's happened with my parents. I already know they're gone and that fucking ear that was sent to me has already been engraved into my brain. I won't say I could handle worse, but I fucking bet I could handle the next news rationally."

Arthur's eyes darkened, but his shoulders slumped in defeat as he nodded in resignation. Biting down on my teeth, I turned back to North and waited in fearful trepidation.

He pressed his lips tightly together, one hand reaching up to run a hand through his dark hair before he spoke. "Lee's asking for a trade. He's willing to trade Kaia for Celeste."

Before I could respond, Arthur spoke over me. "And why the hell does he think I'd do that? He knows that I know that she's working with him."

Another guy stepped in, this one taller and larger than both Arthur and North combined. He had a suit on and a stoic expression glued on his face. "We're guessing she's proved unhelpful to his plans. He's got her hanging from the ceiling." He said this so apathetically, I felt myself coil away from him.

He didn't spare me a glance, extending a hand that held a white piece of paper the size of his hand. "He sent us a photo."

Arthur quickly reached for it, unfolding the photo and letting out a growl of anger. His eyes flared in a mix of horror and anger at what he was looking at. I didn't want to see what had made him react like that, but I couldn't help myself. My curiosity got the better of me and I craned my neck and took a look at the photo.

"Oh, God," I gasped, lips curling in revulsion. Celeste was tied to a chair, unconscious. Her dark hair was hanging in scraggly pieces over her face and it looked sticky. Bits of light hit her head, emphasizing the burgundy color of what I guessed was blood. Her legs were filled with scars, fresh, bloody scars marred her calves and upper arms. Her clothes seemed drenched in sweat and blood; she was tortured, and all for what? For me?

Arthur quickly balled the photo up, as if it would stop me from remembering what was on it, and then threw it in the trash. His grip on my arm tightened and he pulled me behind him, his body holding me onto the counter and blocking any way for me to leave.