Zavier

Zavier caught the flash of steel a breath before he twisted away. A strike of fire lanced up his arm as the blade missed his chest but sliced through his bicep. As the attacker swung again, a guard materialized in front of Zavier, raising his own sword to meet the other with a clash of metal.

Around Zavier, screams reverberated through the ballroom as nobles ran for safety. A hand grabbed him, yanking him away from the pandemonium.

"Hurry, Your Highness."

Zavier followed Joric, never looking to the throne dais, and the bodies splayed around it. Not because of sorrow or anger, but because of a spark of guilt he felt at the sight. As Zavier sprinted behind Joric, guards formed a barrier around him.

Nearing an archway, Jayis entered the protective circle, his white hair rumpled for the first time in Zavier's life. Despite his age, the advisor kept pace with the group.

But with each length gained, a guard broke away to block an attack and keep the assassin engaged. Each time a member entered the fray, Zavier hesitated, fingers aching for a weapon, blood pounding in his veins. Before he could join the guard, Jayis would shove Zavier's shoulder.

"Keep moving, Your Highness," the old man commanded.

By the time they made it to the archway, only Jayis and Joric remained with Zavier, the rest of the guard fighting for his life as well as their own. An attacker appeared out of nowhere and before Zavier could react, a dagger sailed through the air, flying towards his chest.

A sickening thunk made Zavier stagger back as Jayis fell against him, the blade buried in his advisor, just below his shoulder.

Joric roared with anger, cutting down the attacker with a swift stroke. Blood spilled out of the man's chest and Zavier hated the man for dying too quickly.

Seething with fury, Zavier clutched Jayis and backed into the archway, kicking a lounging room door open. As he entered, the heady scent of perfume and whiskey mixed with the sharp metallic scent of Jayis's blood and invaded Zavier's nose. Forcing bile back down his throat, he carried Jayis to a settee and laid him down.

The knife stuck out from below Jayis's collar bone, blood staining the shirt around it like a gruesome star. Zavier reached for the handle, but stopped, fearing the damage he would do taking it out. Was it worse to have it in? Why were his hands so red?

Afraid to do anything, but unable to do nothing, Zavier bunched the advisor's jacket around the blade, pressing down. Jayis grimaced.

Joric stormed into the room and gripped Zavier's shoulder.

"Your Highness, we have to leave."

Zavier shrugged off Joric's hand, never looking away from Jayis.

"We have to stop the bleeding. I can carry him out if you can lead the way."

Holding his gaze, Jayis took hold of Zavier's shirt.

"You have to leave me," he said.

"No. I will help you get out of here. We are both leaving."

Frustration kindled in Jayis's eyes as he shook Zavier's shirt. "You stubborn boy."

Zavier might have laughed if he hadn't felt the weakness in the gesture. A weakness that told him Jayis wouldn't be coming with him.

"You need to get out of here," Jayis said, still clinging to Zavier's shirt. "Sail to Loria. Tell your parents. You...you can still form an alliance and give aid."

The spark of guilt in Zavier's chest flared, but he stifled it.

"I can not leave you," Zavier said.

The old man smiled fondly, releasing Zavier. "You have always had a habit of slipping away. Do not change now."

"I also have a habit of never listening to you. Why change that now?"

Jayis chuckled, leaning his head back, breath slowing. With all his remaining strength, he pushed against Zavier's chest.

"Live. You must live, Your Highness."

When Jayis's hand fell limply to his lap, Zavier seized the front of Jayis's jacket, shaking it.

"Do not! You can not die, old man," he yelled. "You can not leave me!"

"Your Highness," Joric said softly.

"No!"

Zavier refused to believe this bullheaded man dead. But he couldn't stare at those unseeing gray eyes and think any different. The fire that lived in them and often tried to sear Zavier into obedience was snuffed out.

When he didn't let go or look away, Joric hauled him away by the collar of his jacket. Zavier stumbled, trapped in the horror of leaving Jayis all alone with the knife meant for himself.

Only when Joric managed to drag Zavier out of the room and cut off his view of Jayis, did the world crash in. Guards battled attackers who appeared without warning. The clang of swords meeting rang in Zavier's ears. Still holding firmly to Zavier, Joric guided him away from the ballroom and his men.

But as they ran, Zavier heard cries of pain. Sounds coming from his guard. Men he knew. Trent who always beat Zavier at Traitor's dice. Brigin who taught him how to perform a perfect uppercut with a sword. Jes who showed him how to throw a knife with deadly accuracy. Casian who advised him about women. Men now dying for him. Zavier stuttered to a halt.

"I am not letting them die," he said balling his fingers, fury coursing through him.

As he turned, Joric slammed him against the wall, pinning Zavier down with his arm.

"They die for you, Your Highness," he said.

"They should not have to!"

Joric glared at Zavier, the lines of his face hardened with frustration. "Do not make their sacrifice for you pointless. You return to help them and you are likely to die yourself."

When Zavier opened his mouth, Joric pressed harder against him.

"My duty is to protect you, so if you fight me I will be forced to knock you out and carry you. How far do you think we'll make it when I only have one hand free?"

Zavier vibrated with anger, the feeling consuming his mind, sinking its teeth into his chest.

"Then give me a weapon and let me fight," he said.

After a heartbeat, Joric backed away and pulled out a dagger, handing it to Zavier. Nodding, Zavier took off down the passageway, Joric beside him. The faces of his guards played in Zavier's mind as he ran. Men giving up everything for him, because he was born to the right family.

In coming to the West Isles, to the palace, Zavier knew he sacrificed his freedom. Now he ran from the palace while others sacrificed their freedom so that he might have his again.

Zavier ripped off the cape that hung across one shoulder. Golden and embroidered with a full moon, it symbolized Zavier's rank as a Lorian royal. He flung it from him, leaving it to be trampled.

When Zavier and Joric broke from the palace confines, two assassins appeared before them and Zavier threw himself into the battle, needing to fight, needing to make up for who he was.

The attacker on the right swung his blade toward Zavier, but the prince deflected the blow with the dagger and stepped into the attacker's reach. Using the hilt of the knife, he slammed it down on the man's head. As the man crumpled, Zavier spun towards Joric, but the guard didn't need assistance.

Snatching the assassin's sword, Zavier raced towards the palace gate, Joric on his heels. The pair escaped, the guards who patrolled the entrance dead, bodies laying on either side. As they slipped into the foliage that lined the road to the palace, Zavier let Joric take the lead. Only once did Zavier glance back, the palace of white stone with gold-topped domes, and arches a peaceful facade.

When they entered the city, they kept to the shadows, heading towards the port. All around Zavier, the buildings lay quiet, windows darkened for the night. How did these people sleep? Could they not hear the screams on the wind? Did they not sense the death invading their kingdom? Death trailed Zavier, an unwanted companion who would travel with him away from this place.

In front of him, Zavier sensed Joric's relief as they rounded a tavern and hurried down the docks towards their ship, The Eldin Prince. It sat waiting in a berth separated from the rest, a place of honor for traveling nobles. But as they drew nearer a wave of dread washed over Zavier. Something wasn't right.

Joric stumbled to a halt and Zavier knocked into him, seeing what Joric did. Zavier collapsed to his knees, unfeeling of the jagged stone. The ship leaned to one side, a hole torn in its hull, and on the deck were the crew and remaining guards, lifeless.

More lives taken. The ship destroyed. No way to sail for aid. No way home.

**********************************************************************

"Follo's nose is long and he wears a dress."

(Well that was some comic relief we all needed)

So...did I mention that this book was going to be more intense than all my other ones put together? Now you know. Thoughts about it all? Still here? 🤴🏾🛡⚔️

I'm not even going to try to talk to Zavier right now, he's seems emotionally shattered, it's best to just let him be.

So that gives us time to talk. You've read a chapter from each character's POV what do you think? Who is currently your favorite?

They are all my characters that I can't actually say. They all have their journey's that they are going to have to go on.

Reader question from Wishington35: I'm just wondering did you watch a horror movie or something that includes a lot of murdering and political schemes while writing this book? Coz this is so sudden

Author answer: I got the idea from Anastasia and the Romanov family. In one night her whole family died. I wanted to explore what that type of deviation would do to a person.

To you: Ask Me Anything!

Vote, comment, follow or weep in a corner, all choices are acceptable.