Patriot and Queen – Part 07
Cecily woke up an hour later. The sun had set, and night had settled in. She lay in a bed at the inn, with Lisa and Aria by her side, tending to her. Her limbs felt stiff, likely from the treatment she’d received. Her injuries burned with a slight fever, clouding her thoughts. Even after opening her eyes, she only stared vacantly at their faces for a moment.
“What… is the situation now?” she mumbled.
Lisa hesitated before explaining.
“We were ambushed by assassins outside the inn, but Luke and Doris drove them off. The inn’s staff and guests, who were bound, are all free now. Most of the attackers managed to escape, but the woman you faced… she’s the only one we captured. Arvie and the others are questioning her in another room.”
Once she grasped the situation, Cecily propped herself up. “Take me to her.”
“Y-You can’t!” Lisa rushed to stop her, pushing gently on her shoulder. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You need to rest!”
“Aria,” she called her partner.
“Okay.”
“Aria?!” Lisa watched in disbelief as Cecily, with Aria’s help, got out of bed. Cecily felt a pang of guilt, but she and Aria shared the same sentiment, a feeling born from fighting together and losing. It didn’t matter that she was injured. She couldn’t just lie down and wait.
They went to a room filled with a suffocating silence. The captured assassin was seated in a chair, her hands tied to the backrest with thick ropes. Arvie, Doris, and Harvey stood around her, while Luke leaned against the far wall, his gaze fixed on Cecily. She felt the weight of his stare but chose to ignore it.
Arvie, seemingly in charge of the interrogation, glanced at Cecily and Aria as they entered. He raised an eyebrow.
“Are you sure you’re able to walk?”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Cecily said, “but could I speak with her?”
The others exchanged glances, then stepped aside, allowing Cecily to approach the assassin.
The woman’s mask had been removed, revealing an attractive face with sharp features. Her long black hair was braided tightly from the nape of her neck, and she had freckles across her cheeks. She couldn’t have been much older than Cecily.
“Tell me your name.”
The woman didn’t answer, only glaring at Cecily with eyes as sharp as daggers.
“She’s been like this. Silent the whole time,” Arvie said with a shrug. “Though, even without her talking, I can take a guess.”
“Guess?” Cecily asked with a raised brow.
“She’s from the Crowd Powers, or at least, she hails from there.”
“How can you be sure?”
“She has a slave brand on her arm. Doris confirmed it.”
A slave. Cecily remembered what Aria had told her. That the Crowd Powers still had a slave system, an ugly relic of the past.
Slaves weren’t like servants. They were treated as property. Like livestock. They were worked to the bone, and discarded like consumable goods.
“She’s probably an indirect tool of the Empire,” Arvie continued. “The Crowd Powers is a land of many different races and groups. They’re not a unified nation, and there’s constant infighting between smaller states. While they’ve allied with the Empire, it’s only some parts of the Crowd Powers. I suspect the Empire found about the exchange between the Militant Nation and the Independent Trade City and sent this woman as their agent.”
The woman glared at Arvie with the anger of a wounded animal. Her reaction seemed to confirm the strategist’s theory.
“You said it was for your homeland,” Cecily went on. “If you don’t mind, could you tell me more about that?”
The woman stayed silent.
“We’ve mostly figured it out anyway. There’s little use hiding it now.”
The woman turned her head to face her. Her voice was low, almost a whisper. “They promised.”
“Promised what?”
“If I killed you, my home would be granted independence.”
Arvie clicked his tongue in irritation. “You’re from a slave state.”
“A slave state?” Cecily asked, confused.
Aria stepped in to explain. “Some of the smaller countries within the Crowd Powers sell slaves to other nations. They raise their people as slaves.”
Cecily could only stare in stunned disbelief. “That’s… ridiculous.”
“It sounds insane, but it’s true. If you’re born there, you’re a slave by default. Once you come of age, you’re sold to neighboring countries. Some of these nations depend on this trade for their economy. When I went there with my previous owner, I complained for the first time ever. I wanted to leave as soon as I could.”
The idea of a country condemning its own citizens to slavery was beyond anything Cecily could ever understand. It was downright inhumane.
“So, what you’re saying is, if you kill us, your country will be free?” Arvie’s voice grew sharp with rare anger. “Do you really think the Empire will help with that? Do you honestly believe they’ll tear down the system of slavery and free your nation just because you kill us?”
“Then, tell me!” The woman shot back, her voice rising with desperation. “Tell me how to save my country! Can you? No, you can’t!”
“That’s not my problem.”
“Enough!” the woman screamed, tears welling up in her eyes. “Kill me. End it!”
Arvie, staring at her coldly, reached for the saber at his waist. But his hand froze.
“What are you doing?”
Cecily had stepped forward, positioning herself between Arvie and the woman. The strategist frowned.
“What do you intend to do?” he asked, his voice low.
“I have a request,” Cecily said, bowing her head. She was still leaning on Aria for support, so it wasn’t graceful, but she stood firm. “Would you let her go?”
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Arvie blinked in surprise, and everyone else—Harvey, Doris, even the assassin—were frozen, their mouths hanging open in shock.
“Do you pity her?” Arvie asked coldly after a long pause. “Or are you just trying to satisfy your sense of superiority?”
Cecily couldn’t entirely deny it. She knew what it looked like. Sympathy, superiority, self-satisfaction—none of these were her intention, of course. But as someone who had lost, no matter how she tried to explain herself, those implications would inevitably be attached to her actions. She was suggesting something that would naturally invite such interpretations.
But she had to say it, even if it meant tarnishing her own reputation. It was utterly wrong to hand her over to the Militant Nation for execution. That would be the end of all rational thought.
The action she had taken was a mistake, but she was simply a person who tried to fight for her country.
“Please. Let her go,” Cecily repeated.
“I can’t agree to that,” Arvie said. “She’s a criminal.”
“But even though she was hired to kill, she didn’t just target anyone. None of the people in the inn are dead, and we’re all still alive.”
“Are you sure you haven’t gone insane? She almost killed you!”
“That doesn’t count,” Cecily replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Arvie stood frozen, speechless. The strategist, who always relied on logic and common sense, couldn’t find a response. Harvey shook his head in disbelief, while Doris was grinning in amusement, probably remembering the time they’d crossed blades.
Arvie was at a loss. “But…” he trailed off.
“Arvie Irving.” Luke, who had been quietly observing from the wall, interjected with a chuckle. “Just give up and do as Cecily says.”
“What?! You too?”
“Or else, this whole deal is off,” Luke added.
It was an entirely unreasonable demand. Arvie glanced around desperately for support. His subordinate, Doris, quickly turned away and began whistling. Harvey, who was supposed to be the one in charge, mumbled something vague and unhelpful. Aria, on Cecily’s side, need not be asked. Lisa just awkwardly bowed.
“Fine, I get it,” Arvie gave in. “I’ll release her.”
Cecily glanced at Luke, who simply shrugged. “Just go for it. Do what you think is right.”
She nodded, muttering a quiet thank you.
The female assassin sat there, wide-eyed, clearly stunned by the turn of events.
“Wh-What? Are you serious?” she stammered.
“My name is Cecily Campbell. I’m a knight of the Independent Trade City,” Cecily introduced, her lips curving into a small smile. “I’d like to ask again. What’s your name?”
There was a pause.
“Hilda Cavendish.”
The response slipped out by accident.
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