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Chapter 4

"Lyla, stop that pacing. You're upsetting my nerves."

Lyla stopped. An automatic reaction, and she was about to wander into the throne room fountain. She halted her foot just before it plunged down into the water, and sheepishly glanced down at the small pond. Orange and black koi fish circled the pool aimlessly, occasionally poking their spongy mouths up through the surface to snatch at imaginary food. Lyla blushed and awkwardly stepped away from the pond, trying not to make too much noise stepping on the expensive marble floors.

Lyla Quincy had lived in the large palace of Apreuna for her entire life. As daughter of the Grand Duchess and the late Grand Duke, she dined often with the royal family and had grown up playing with the palace children. She knew the palace very well; knew every nook and cranny where she could easily blend into the background (as if she didn't anyway).

She scooted closer to her mother, who sat near the end of the table, only a few seats away from the Queen herself.

"Mother, it's half past nine," She whispered pointedly, her gaze skimming over the Grand Duchess's ageless features.

"I've realized the fact." Her smooth, unblemished face showed no emotion.

Her mother was attractive for her age. Refined, fashionable. Her long, pale leg peeked surreptitiously through a moderate slit on the skirt of a wine-colored dress Lyla suspected she herself couldn't pull off. Lyla was all torso, like a plant. She absently rubbed her side, wincing.

"Perhaps they aren't coming," Lyla suggested tentatively, watching her mother's reaction.

"Of course they're coming," The Grand Duchess said calmly, snapping back a layer of dark curls. "People of their means won't turn down a handsome reward." She looked towards the the royal family, each sitting primly at a large table surrounded by courtiers, and then back to her daughter, a new grimace pulling on her cheeks. She gestured to an empty chair near the end of the table. "Sit."

Lyla slowly walked to her chair and did as she was told. She squirmed a bit, trying to mimic the straightness in her mother's spine, and delicately crossed her legs at the ankle.

Queen Rowena was as magnificent as always; her blonde tresses pulled into a coiffure that highlighted the sharpness of her cheekbones. She wore a deep shade of blue that matched the tapestries in the throne room. There was an empty space in the chair next to her that no one acknowledged.

The crown prince- snub nosed and serious, with freckles- perched regally on the chair on the other side of his mother. The younger princes were too small to be joining their mother yet, and the only princess had already been married off to some Nuellian prince. Lyla planned to visit whenever she could, though she hadn't ever been close with the princess, who was a few years her senior. Lyla just wanted to leave. Apreuna's dry, empty climate bothered her immensely—the arid heat itching her skin and tugging loose all the moisture from her body, emptying it into its sizzling desert kingdom.

No sooner had she arranged her skirts comfortably than one of the palace guards pushed open one of the stone doors and peeked through. "Your Majesty, your guests have arrived. A Lord Carondelet and Lady Dimitri?"

The Queen rolled her eyes. Lyla straightened in her seat. Many of the courtiers began murmuring excitedly, several pairs of interested eyes straying towards the door. Even some of the royal family lost their glazed expressions and quirked their heads inquisitively towards the entrance.

The Queen waved her guard forward with a swift gesture of her fingers, and the doors opened. Lyla leaned forward the slightest bit, curiosity widening her artless, periwinkle-colored eyes.

Two people walked in; a male and a female, gracefully gliding through the entrance like they were floating.

Lyla squinted to see their faces better, but they were vaguely blurry from the distance. The two took their time, each step confident and purposeful as if they weren't aware that every pair of eyes was on them, scrutinizing their every move.

The girl donned a pretty blue dress and the boy wore simple breeches and an overcoat. He murmured something to her and she laughed like a little girl, soft and soprano.

Lyla leaned back, a tad disappointed. They didn't look like criminals.

They stopped whispering as they came closer, and the small female- Aveline Dimitri, Lyla believed- bobbed a respectful curtsy.

Ari Carondelet bowed, but he didn't look happy about it. The way his profile sat comfortably in a pout– lips tilted downward, a slight frown creasing his eyebrows– made Lyla wonder if petulance was his default expression.

His hair was ebony and curled around his face, and his eyes were dark to match, fringed with tired lavender smudges and long, childlike eyelashes. A tall, athletic frame, and his freckled skin was like marble; the kind of straight jawline and jutting collarbone that belonged on a sculpture rather than a person.

Aveline, in contrast, was slightly smaller than average, and she was almost smiling.

Her amber eyes dominated most of her heart-shaped face and tended to wander around the room, curiously devouring everything in sight. Her cheeks were framed by dusky ringlets that tumbled over narrow shoulders. Combined with rose-colored lips and graceful curves, her features drew her as distinctly feminine.

They couldn't have been related, despite what Lyla had previously guessed about the infamous pair. Their ethnicities were different, for one, and their countenances differed tremendously.

Even so, the two shared some similarities in their olive coloring, high cheekbones, and toned limbs. A matched set, it seemed, like a pair of slippers.

They were beautiful, and Apreuna valued beauty above everything else.

"My guests," The Queen acknowledged, either by greeting or an introduction to the courtiers in the room, Lyla wasn't sure. "We will be the first to welcome you to Apreuna."
"Much obliged, Your Majesty," Aveline trilled, inclining her head slightly. "Delighted to see you again. You're looking well."

Lyla whipped her head towards Queen Rowena. She hadn't been aware that her Majesty was acquainted with criminals.

The Queen, unfazed, arched an eyebrow. "Your carriage was late, I presume?"

"Yes, or rather, we stopped for breakfast," The somewhat famous pirate captain informed them conversationally, folding back his sleeve. "Aveline was hungry."

His companion casually ground the toe of her slipper into his leather boot, and he winced.

The Queen smiled one of her feigned, serious smiles. She seemed calm enough, but the Grand Duchess was another matter. She placidly raised her glass to her lips, but was peering at the intruders suspiciously over the crystal, studying them carefully as if they were two vivid but strange and unpredictable animals that had wandered into the palace unannounced.

Suddenly, without averting her gaze, the Queen casually lifted her hand and made a small gesture towards the back exit to the hallway. "This is a council matter," She announced dismissively. Several courtiers automatically stood up and wandered towards the exit, casting curious looks behind them.

As soon as the guards shut the curving wooden doors, the Queen placed her goblet on the table. "I don't plan to draw this particular matter out for too long," she stated, clasping her long, delicate hands together on the table. "Sit."

Aveline gracefully picked up her skirts and took a seat in a wooden chair across from the royal family, and her partner followed suit. Lyla watched them carefully, attempting to seem flippant about it as if she was only an observing member of the court, and not the Grand Duchess's rather dissatisfying offspring.

A servant silently offered their guests wine, and they traded glances, so quickly Lyla barely caught the action.

"Thank you," Aveline murmured as the servant poured them a few glasses. Ari passed her one without looking at her a second time. Neither drank.

"How may we be of service to Your Majesty?" He inquired stiffly, unsmiling.

The Queen looked at Lyla's mother. The Duchess cleared her throat and began shuffling the papers in front of her, suddenly businesslike.

"I'm sure you are aware that Her Majesty has not been blind to your great prowess in matters of certain...arts."

Aveline cocked her head the tiniest bit, and Lyla could have sworn that Ari smiled- a devilish, quick lift of his lips before it was gone. "I could go down the list," The Duchess continued, holding out a crisp white vellum from in front of her and skimming the text. "All types of thievery; embezzlement; several counts of kidnapping, the assassination of twelve different Earls, four Countesses and an entire palace court; dozens of executions, piracy; conspiracy; evading capture and subsequent punishment; stealing from a shipwreck..." She paused and took another sip from her goblet, longer this time.

Lyla's wide gaze flicked back to the people in front of her, her mouth dropping open the slightest bit. Neither of them could have been more than twenty-five.

"By all means, please, continue," Ari said cheerily. "Recently, we added 'raiding a Baron and his entire household' to the list. In fact-"

"Ari means to inquire as to the purpose of this conversation," Aveline interrupted, smiling pleasantly. "Our companions currently wait for us outside the palace." Lyla was surprised by her smooth response; she hadn't looked like she was paying any attention at all.

"This brings us to our proposal," the Duchess bravely plowed on. "If rumors are to be believed, then it is true that you have been hired for several operations around the ocean. Assassinations, theft, solving murders and doing other dirty work for high class Lords and Ladies." It was a statement, but the Duchess glanced at the two as if for confirmation. Their faces were equally masked into blank smiles. "Are we incorrect in supposing this?"

The pair looked at each other. Aveline nodded hesitantly. "Occasionally we...dabble in such matters. We find that many people are willing to pay certain sums to disentangle their unsolved quandaries," She added, nonchalantly tracing her finger around the crystal rim of her wine glass.

"I thought as much." Lyla's mother glanced subtly at the Queen, and then looked at her entwined hands. She took a breath. "This is why Her Majesty and her council reluctantly came to the decision to hire...outside assistance for a matter plaguing the kingdom and its neighbors."

Ari and Aveline both wore equally appalled expressions. Ari folded his fingers together and leaned forward. "What are you saying?"

Aveline made a noise in her throat that somehow sounded like incredulity. "You want our help?"

"Not just you," The Queen said loftily, lifting her chin. "We've offered the job to several others as well. It's only a matter of who is successful."

"And you're hiring criminals?" Ari grinned and leaned back in his seat. "This must be serious."

"We have it on good authority that you are particularly good at finding people," she continued, wisely ignoring Ari.

He grimaced, though Lyla couldn't imagine why. "No denial there."

"Does this have something to do with the royals disappearing?" inquired Aveline innocently.

The Duchess gaped. "How did you know about that?" She lifted a pallid hand to smooth the vibrant blonde of her hair, an agitated gesture that Lyla immediately recognized.

More exchanging of glances from Aveline and Ari. As expected, Lyla thought, nearly rolling her eyes until she remembered her place.

"We know people," Ari said finally. "And I'm going to assume that is an affirmative. Why can't you consult your priggish captain- the one with the froofy hair? Or you could ask your own sentries to figure it out," he suggested amiably. "They could use some time away from the castle, perhaps some exercise. Their uniforms are looking a bit tight."

Aveline glared at her companion until his smile faded.

The Grand Duchess was speechless. Lyla was beginning to worry that her Majesty would call the guards on their guests and a battle would commence right there in the sitting room, but Queen Rowena retained an impressive amount of self control.

"We have been," she smoothly replied, covering the strain in her voice. "They've been searching for weeks. We finally came to the conclusion that it would help to have outside assistance. Criminals included," she finished, gesturing towards them with a tired wave of her hand.

"Alright, fine," Aveline began, her brows furrowing, "but what's happened? Who is it that's disappeared?"

The queen could barely look her guests in the eyes. "My son."

Lyla blinked, hard. It was the most honest, frank statement made since the meeting had adjourned, and strangely it seemed to sober Aveline and Ari.

They were both silent as they contemplated the lines on the table in front of them.

"How old is he?" Aveline's voice was carefully controlled, contained like a taut piece of string

"Twenty." This was the closest the Queen would ever get to desperation; there was the flush on her cheeks and sudden quiet in her voice. She didn't cry, or beg, and Lyla didn't expect her to; she knew her aunt better than that. "He's not even in line for the throne. Do you-" she cleared a place for the words in her throat, "do you have any idea why someone might have taken him?"

"Because he's valuable." Ari flipped a coin up in the air and watched it twirl and fall back down. Heads. "Why else?"

"If I may, Your Majesty," the Viscount interjected politely, "perhaps the conjectures could be saved for later?"

"An excellent idea, I almost forgot, Your Majesty," the Duchess cut in. "Again, Lord Carondelet, Lady Dimitri- we're offering a sizeable award to anyone who can find Prince Tristran and bring him home. This task, of course, could entail dangerous work, especially since we fear he may be in unsafe hands. And if he was stolen..." She trailed off.

"Find Prince Tristran, kill his captors, bring him home. I believe we grasp the general idea," Ari asserted.

"We also may have found a lead already," said the Duchess. "You are both aware of the midyear festival in Kibet, correct?

"Who isn't?" said Ari, rather childishly, in Lyla's opinion.

He was right, all the same— the Kibetian midyear festival was held annually, and there wasn't many that didn't know of it. It was trade-based; a way for kingdoms to hire new royal workers. Every year people from all over flooded in looking for work, and others used it to sell and buy wares. Lyla had never had a reason to go, though she'd always wanted to.

It was also held during that particular week, while the weather was warm.

"We weren't planning on going..." Aveline dropped her sentence and tilted her head. "Why?"
The queen's expression was empty. "Because someone spotted my son there. We got a tip yesterday morning."

"How reliable is your source?" Aveline sounded skeptical.

"The princess swore she saw him, and her brother, and the princess from Giornine, all in the same area— all three have been missing for weeks." A bit of helplessness had escaped into Queen Rowena's tone as she spoke, and Lyla watched her as she struggled to mask her emotions.

"Where?"

"The Tarrah. It's a high-ended inn; a lot of the royal families frequent it, and especially with the high security right now— you'll need special permission to get in." She looked at Lyla's mother, who slid a crisp ribboned envelope across the table.

Lyla glanced at the parchment, very similar to the one she had been examining in her bedroom. She coughed quietly, shifting in her chair.

No one paid her any attention (they rarely did) but Aveline and Ari, whose sharp eyes shot up at the sound.

Lyla froze as their gazes landed on her.

Ari quickly disregarded the distraction and returned his attention to the envelope, snatching it and slicing his finger through the flap, but Aveline smiled. At her.

Lyla was too surprised to return the gesture. Did she look guilty? They were opening the invitation.

"Servants to the Apreuna monarchy?'" Ari read in dismay.

Aveline dropped her gaze to the parchment. "Servants? We're not even citizens!"

Lyla took a moment to calm her heartbeat. No one suspected anything, it was fine...

"It's not as if you're actually a servant," the Grand Duchess was protesting. "It's just a way of saying you're there on official Apreuna business."

Ari lifted a corner of the page, skimming the back side. "You would be, uh, paying us for this, correct?"

The Duchess's smile was flickering and smug, like a snake. "As I said."

Aveline took advantage of the brief pause to study the woman across from her with a serene, practiced gaze. Lyla wondered what she could possibly be thinking. Whatever she saw in the Duchess seemed to decide her, however, and she nodded firmly.

"We will need to think on it," She announced, properly folding the paper and slipping it inside its envelope. "We are very busy."

"Very busy," Ari echoed, nodding his agreement.

Queen Rowena nodded lightly, and Lyla could see that she was trying not to convey any more emotion. "If you decide to oblige, present your invitation to the Kibetian guards at the front of the Tarrah. It will grant you entrance. Please- find out as much as you can." She lifted a hand, and Lyla knew she couldn't wait a moment longer. "That is all. You are dismissed."

Despite her veiled grief, the Queen kept it together long after her guests had left and the doors were closed. Lyla couldn't have possibly done that; it was just another reminder of how unlike a royal she really was.

---

Ari and Aveline left the Apreuna palace in a hurry, not bothering to glance back behind them. The desert breeze lifted their curls and slapped them against their cheeks, and Aveline irritably brushed one out of her eyes.

"That went well," Ari said after a moment, smirking at the Apreunian guards as they left the outer gates.

"Did it?" Came Aveline's tight response.

He shrugged. "Sort of."

"They seemed pretty desperate."

"Do you think the royals in Apreuna are going rabid? Remember what Jeckel said? The same thing happened in Ladreinesse. That prince tried to bite his servant's face off!" Ari sounded almost enthusiastic at the prospect. "And the next day? Vanished."

Aveline shook her head. "Jeckel couldn't tell the truth if you plugged him in the head with a pistol. They were probably kidnapped." She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she marched into the busy street without looking.

It was quite an intriguing position they found themselves in. It wasn't as if they had been given very much information on the task at hand, which complicated things, of course...

Ari snatched her sleeve and pulled her out of the way before she could be hit by an incoming carriage. "But it must be serious if Queen Rowena can find more reason to trust us than her own court," She continued, completely oblivious to her near-death experience.

"I'm sure she was telling the truth about sending her own sentries as well," Ari said reasonably. "But if word spread in any of the palace courts, it would be chaos."
"Undoubtedly," Aveline agreed. They paused briefly as they slowly rounded a corner to a skinny alleyway by a shoe parlor, and she chewed on her bottom lip. "Ari, I'm not sure we should take this job."

"Why not?" Ari raised three fingers and a shaggy head popped out from around the wall of a brick building. A few seconds later, a few members of their crew exited from their positions behind the wall.

"Well..." She was about to say more, but their crew approached, and she closed her mouth. Ari turned to face her.

"I believe that we should at least go to Kibet, stake out the situation. What would you have?"

"Same as you," she conceded. "As long as we're careful."

He winked. "Aren't we always?"

"Captain," A tall female bowed her head as she stepped up to the pair, breaking Aveline's train of thought.

"Inez," Ari greeted. "Did you find us a ride?"
"A carriage is ready, sir. That didn't take you long."
"Yes, well, the Queen made her point quickly," Aveline explained, giving the other girl a meaningful glance.

Inez nodded briefly. "The rest of the crew is waiting at the port."
"Brilliant. We will need more provisions for a week long voyage, perhaps shorter," Ari declared.
Inez raised her eyebrows. "Are we going somewhere, Captain?"
"Kibet, I believe."
"Ah." With no more questions and a respectful nod towards Aveline, she dutifully hurried away.

Henry was waiting down the path with their carriage. In a moment, Ari handed Aveline in and the horses began clopping down the street.

Aveline wordlessly passed Ari the Queen's envelope, and he ripped the pages in his haste.

"I can't believe they're letting commoners into the Tarrah."

Aveline snickered, peeking over his shoulder. "They've hired mercenaries, soldiers, assassins..." She skimmed the document, a puzzled frown dusting her cheeks. "There should be a 'thieving scum' category here."

"Quite right," Ari said seriously. "They must have forgotten to add that bit." He rolled the paper back up with a smirk. "I suppose we'll have to show up anyway."

Aveline beamed, scooting closer to the window and resting her arm on the windowsill as Henry spurred the carriage on away from the busy streets and into the dragging heat of the desert.

---

In the palace, Lady Quincy had slipped away from the arguing council in the throne room and was picking up her skirts as she scampered up the winding stairs. Panting, she leapt over the final step and threw open the curtains of the mullioned window.

The kingdom spread out before her in endless hills of dry reddish-brown, with small patches of succulents. A dark carriage was slowly rolling away on the dirt road. It turned to the right, down to the docks.

Lyla chewed on her lip contemplatively. She thought of the packed valise in her bedroom, the one she'd hidden under her desk.

Then she brushed the curtains closed and lugged herself back down the stairs to find supper.

*** Lyla's up to something...

Was that chapter too long? Idk what constitutes as a normal chapter length on wattpad tbh, i'm just winging it. next chapter will be shorter i promise :)

vote/comment if you liked!!! ***