Princess – Part 15
Rain had begun falling outside.
In the darkness, the clouds swallowed the moon, and the rhythmic drumming of rain filled the air.
It was late, and the city had grown quiet. Despite the disturbance caused by the heavy downpour, citizens gradually succumbed to sleep, lulled by the sound of the rain.
Multiple sets of footsteps moved swiftly through the streets, using the sound of the rain as cover.
The figures wore their hoods low over their heads, but the rain had plastered their hair to their foreheads. Their bodies were soaked, and wet clothes clung to their skin. With the rain making it hard to speak, they moved in complete silence.
Weaving through the sheets of rain, the group reached a large building. A few lights shone through the windows, likely from officials working the night shift. Circling to the rear of the building, they scaled the wall, broke the lock on a door, and slipped inside. The rain concealed every sound of their movements.
The floor creaked under their weight as they crept cautiously down the wooden corridors. Water dripping from their clothes, fingertips, and hair soaked into the grain of the floorboards. Any officials they encountered were quickly knocked unconscious. Having memorized the building’s layout earlier in the day, they moved with precision. Before long, they found the entrance to the underground prison.
At the bottom of the stairs was a guard station, and two guards were on duty. The intruders acted swiftly. They smashed the jewel steel lamp, overturned a table, scattering documents across the floor. Thuds and muffled groans echoed in the darkness. Then silence.
A faint glow returned to the room. The guards lay unconscious on the floor, eyes rolled back. One of the intruders held a partially broken rod of jewel steel, using it as a makeshift light. After retrieving the keyring from a guard’s pocket, they exchanged nods and headed for the cells.
“Wait.”
All three intruders immediately drew their swords. The voice had come from the top of the stairs. Holding their breaths, they stepped back, ready to fight. Slow, deliberate footsteps descended.
“Doris, Margot, Penelope, stop this.”
Doris gritted her teeth. “Cecily.”
Cecily stepped into view, just as soaked as they were. Her hand rested on the short sword at her waist. Aria stood silently behind her.
Cecily glanced down at the three swords from the top of the stairs. “You took those swords from our storage, didn’t you? Everything in there is a keepsake from my father. Return them.”
“You followed us.”
Cecily’s brows furrowed in disappointment. “I had a hunch, but I wasn’t sure. I wanted to believe otherwise, though.”
When the asylum was proposed, the girls had stared hard at Housman and Arvie, standing guard around Charlotte. Even after that, their faces remained stern. Cecily recognized that look well—it was the look of someone who had already made up their mind.
“If you already know, this will be quick,” Doris said, pointing the sword tip at her. “We need the Infernal Blades. Aria and the blacksmith, too. We’re taking them, and Lady Charlotte, back to the Empire.”
“The Empire abandoned her. Why do you think the mayor even offered asylum?”
“Are you suggesting Lady Charlotte betray the Empire? Sell imperial secrets to the Militant Nation so she could survive?”
“…”
“As the bearer of the Emperor’s blood, she will avenge her mother. Betraying the Empire and abandoning her goal is not what Lady Charlotte wants. We’re her hands and feet. Our lives belong to her. And we will make her wish come true.”
“Did she order this raid?”
“No! Lady Charlotte is weighing the empire against our lives right now. If we go back, we’re dead for sure. But if we defect, we might be spared. She’s torn between those two options. Lady Charlotte is kind—too kind, so she’s trying to suppress what she really wants. You think we could just stand by and do nothing?”
“Why don’t you cool your heads for a bit? You’re clearly making the wrong decision. Do you really think this will make Charlotte happy?”
“You can’t even do anything, so save your breath.”
Cecily had no rebuttal. Her words stung because they rang true.
She had claimed she’d save all, but in reality, it was Housman and Arvie who were taking on the risk, not her. She wasn’t the one putting herself on the line. She was just making noise, talking big while staying safe.
Cecily Campbell was still the same girl with too much to say and too little to back it up. As Luke had reminded her time and again, she hadn’t grown.
“Still weak. Still useless.”
Powerless… yet.
“So what?”
There was no point in mourning her weakness. She’d just have to cast it aside.
Whether or not her actions made a difference directly, if it meant helping them in the end, the rest was irrelevant. She’d bow to anyone, beg, crawl if needed. If that’s what it took. Pride and appearances? They were trivial if it meant saving lives.
Just as she had once bowed her head to Luke.
Maybe that was who Cecily Campbell truly was. And maybe there were things only someone like her could do.
“You really won’t back down, Doris?”
“No.”
“Fine. Then go get it.”
“What?”
“Go get the Infernal Blades.”
Doris’s eyes widened. “Wh-What?”
“Hurry up.”
“Do you even know what you’re saying?”
Cecily turned to her partner. “Sorry, Aria. You’ll have to put up with my antics.”
That was enough for Aria to understand. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” she said.
“Move, Doris.”
Still perplexed, Doris handed the keys to Penelope. She and Margot rushed toward the dungeon, searching for the right cell.
Doris, the last to remain, shot Cecily a sharp glare. “What are you up to, Cecily Campbell? You really planning to just let us walk away?”
“We’re not on equal footing.”
“What?”
“It wouldn’t be fair if I were the only one wielding an Infernal Blade.”
Doris fell silent, completely taken aback. Even as Margot and Penelope returned with their Infernal Blades—a claymore, a rhomphaia, and a ballock knife—Doris couldn’t pull her gaze from Cecily.
“Pick up your swords, Doris, Margot, Penelope.”
“You…”
“If you’re really committed, prove it. Take Aria from me with your own hands.”
The three of them stood dumbstruck. They couldn’t grasp what Cecily was saying or what her intentions were.
“This is insane!” Doris finally snapped, her frustration boiling over. “You’re out of your mind! What are you even trying to gain from this?!”
“I already told you. This isn’t about gains. Logic has nothing to do with it.”
She knew that superficial reasoning wouldn’t sway the girls. Words wouldn’t get through them.
So, she’d use force. She’d crush them so thoroughly that they’d have no fight left in them, leaving them no choice but to accept asylum.
“That’s just who I am.”
She was going to impose her will. That was all Cecily Campbell, powerless as she was, could do.
Doris didn’t stay stunned for long. She tossed aside the sword she had taken from the Campbell family’s storage and gripped her own weapon instead. A weary but defiant grin spread across her face.
“You really think you stand a chance? We already beat you once, remember?”
“I don’t.”
“Then why?”
“Enough. You still don’t get it? Let me spell it out for you.”
Cecily straightened herself. She drew the short sword at her waist and pointed it straight ahead, her voice ringing out, filling every corner of the dungeon.
“I’m stupid!”
“Unshackle from slumber. Seize the truth. The wind, in my hand. Slay God.”
Aria broke free from her bindings. The wind roared to life. It whipped violently around the enclosed space, bouncing off the stone walls, brushing past them. Doris, Margot, and Penelope covered their ears as the deafening rush nearly burst their eardrums.
Cecily, sheathing her short sword, shouted, “Come!”
The swirling wind began to coalesce, taking the form of a sword that materialized in Cecily’s outstretched hand. A cross-shaped blade, it had a swept hilt that coiled around the guard and Cecily’s hand like vines, locking her grip in place. The pommel gleamed a dull silver.
With the rapier Infernal Blade in hand, Cecily assumed a thrusting stance. Doris, ready to intercept, brandished her claymore in a reverse hold and brought it down to stab the ground.
“Doris! Are you trying to bring this place down on our heads?!”
The claymore stopped just shy of the ground. Penelope darted in front of Doris.
Cecily’s thrust shot through the space ahead, releasing a powerful shockwave cloaked in a dull silver. Penelope, unblinking, focused on the wind rushing down from the stairwell above. In the moment of impact, she spotted the vortex’s core and drove her ballock knife into it with precision, tearing it apart. The wind dissipated instantly.
“Where did she go?!”
Cecily, who had been at the top of the stairs, had vanished.
As the footsteps faded, Penelope took the lead, and they sprinted ahead, shouting to spur themselves on.
“For Lady Charlotte!”
“For Lady Charlotte!”
“We’ll break through, Cecily Campbell!”
Comment (0)