Forbidden (Chapter Five)

 

I’d spoken to my father that night. He didn’t seem very flexible at first, but once I’d stated my reasons for wanting to be present at Jack and Damon’s tribunal, he softened up a bit. I confided in him that I didn’t believe they wanted to hurt me. It simply didn’t make any sense for Jack—if he was planning to kidnap me—to bring his younger brother along. Surely the mission would be too dangerous for a young boy around. I had been skeptical at first, but once Jack had finished it had all made sense. What mother would want her sons to grow up in a horrible place such as Erinia, where torment and malice were the ways of entertainment? Erinia had been part of Zakynthos at one point, and they’d separated the kingdoms for a reason I didn’t know, so it was nearly as awful as Zakynthos itself.

When I’d entered my father’s office, I’d found my mother and sister talking about me.

Lydia had turned in mid-sentence, her soft blond hair tied back into a long braid down the middle of her back. My mother stood close by, biting the nail of her pinky finger in distress, watching the scene with concern in her eyes. My father was sitting behind his desk, looking up at Lydia with tired eyes.

Everyone turned to me once I entered.

“Scarlett?” Lydia asked.

I didn’t waste any time, marching straight to my father’s desk and looking him in the eye. “I want to be at the hearing.”

He let out a barking laugh, eyes disbelieving. “You’re mad.”

“No, I’m not,” I said evenly. “I want to be there. You didn’t tell me there was a hearing in the first place.”

“It’s too dangerous, dear,” my mother said softly from behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s not too dangerous,” I growled, spinning around to face her. “I am not a child. I want a say in what happens to these people.”

“Why?” Lydia asked suddenly, crossing her arms over her chest. “You seem to care a lot about these particular trespassers, Scarlett. We’ve had many, and not once have you interfered.”

I confronted Lydia, drawing myself up to my full height. I noticed vaguely I was the same height as her, but I was distracted by being sincerely sick of being treated like a ten-year old.

“I’m interfering because I know they don’t want to hurt me,” I responded flatly, hoping no emotion leaked out into my tone.

Lydia laughed quietly. “And how would you know that?”

“Because I just spoke to them.”

“You what?” my father boomed, standing abruptly.

I looked at him. “I spoke to them.”

He looked astonished. He blinked rapidly, dazed. “Scarlett, why—? You didn’t have—” he stopped and took a deep breath, waiting several seconds before speaking again. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Well, I did. It’s too late to take back what I did. But I spoke to them and I know they don’t want to hurt me.”

“What exactly did they say?” he said warily, crossing his arms over his wide chest.

“It makes sense, Father,” I told him. “Why would Jack bring his brother along with him if he wanted to kidnap me? Why would he sneak out if he wasn’t planning to escape? Why—?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he interrupted, holding his hands up. “Who’s Jack?”

I bit my lip. “That’s the older boy—Jack Harris. His brother’s name is Damon.”

He gaped. “And how do you know they didn’t give you fake names?”

I threw my hands up in frustration. “Why do you always assume the worst? People are always breaking in to try and hurt me, but these aren’t. They just are caught up in a—problem.”

“Then why did he break into the castle?” Lydia asked suspiciously.

“For help.”

She raised a pale brow. “Help? What about the village?”

“Nobody would help them there,” I said, waving her words away. “And Jack heard how you take in people who can’t afford homes.”

Everyone was silent as they processed this. I resisted the urge to smile in triumph. Several long, ominous seconds passed as my father struggled to make a prudent decision, while Lydia looked highly uncertain and my mother looked nervous as always.

“So can I go?” I crossed my arms over my chest, watching my father’s face change.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead, looking like he wanted nothing more than to take a long nap. “Okay, fine. You’re right; you’re old enough to be there, Scarlett. But I still don’t believe they’re innocent.”

I smiled triumphantly and turned from the three of them and headed out the door.

 

*   *   *

“Jack and Damon Harris,” said my father in a loud, clear voice that reverberated throughout the high-ceilinged, gloomy room. Torches cast ghostly shadows along the walls where they hung, the whole place looked like a prison ward. I sat beside my mother, who sat beside my father, and Lydia was perched on his other side. Facing us, sitting in the two chairs directly in the middle of the room, were Jack and Damon, who had taken their seats when addressed and still had their hands tied behind their backs, and still wore the same grubby clothing I’d met them in. The jury lined the rows in front and underneath us, quiet and intimidating on the stands.

Jack looked annoyed and tired, while his brother seemed very interested in the scene before him; he kept glancing up at the high ceiling, at my glorious sister and menacing father. My heart was beating a frantic pattern, and I felt everyone could hear it banging against my ribs.

“Well,” my father sighed, folding his hands together. “You know why you’re here. There is a decision to make.”

Jack glanced at my father for the first time, a cold smile playing his lips. A strand of silk hair fell into his eyes as he looked everyone over.

“You mean the discussion of our death?” Jack said flatly, though the cold smile was still planted over his face.

My father smiled sardonically. “Exactly that.”

Jack looked away, looking like he was holding back some offensive profanities.

“Then please, enlighten me with your valid reasons for breaking into my castle uninvited, Mr. Harris,” my father said, beckoning him forward as if Jack wasn’t fixed to the chair he sat in.

Jack pursed his lips, glancing at his tattered tennis shoes so that strand of dark hair fell into his eyes again, and it drew my attention, until he finally looked up and spoke, no fear tainting his voice, only courage shining through.

“I think you already know,” Jack said loudly. “Didn’t Princess here already explain everything?” Jack asked, nodding towards me so my heart jumped to my throat. His eyes met mine for the briefest second, and an emotion I couldn’t decipher quickly enough flashed through his eyes, but he looked away.

“Elaborate,” my father demanded, sounding more like King Lysander.

“You know the basics. My brother and I needed a place to live,” Jack said, “and we heard you take in those who can’t afford homes. Simple as that.”

“And why didn’t you speak to me directly? You decided to just break in?” my father asked gravely.

Jack looked my father square in the eye, flaming blue eyes captivating and repelling at the same time. “I don’t beg,” he said evenly.

My father raised his brows, nodding slowly, deliberating. “Well, boy,” he said, “you made the wrong choice.”

“I know.”

“So... tell me more,” King Lysander told Jack. “This young man is your brother?” he motioned towards Damon, whose bright eyes widened at being mentioned.

Damon nodded mutely, looking helpless.

“And where have you both come from?” someone behind me murmured; I glanced over to see a woman with dark hair and a cruel stare looking Jack over like he was the worst type of insect.

“Erinia,” Jack muttered.

The woman let out a loud laugh. “Erinia! Well that settles it, then, doesn’t it? Erinia is alongside Zakynthos,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Not anymore,” Jack put in.

“But it’s the same thing isn’t it?” Lydia piped in, adding to my feeling of despair. “Erinia is just as horrible as Zakynthos. Maybe worse.”

King Lysander sat there with his arms folded, lips pursed, looking pensive. I watched his face hopefully, looking for a trace of contempt.

“Mr. Harris, why didn’t you come straight to me instead of trying to break into my home?” my father asked curiously.

“I already told you. I don’t beg.”

“You thought you could just sneak in and get away with it?”

“You take in a lot of people. I wouldn’t be noticed between the others who live here.”

My father chuckled humorlessly. “You realize I could’ve had one of the guards snap your neck, and there wouldn’t be a need for this silly trial?”

Jack pursed his lips.

“You realize that, by breaking in here, you’ve proven yourself a threat to me, my family, and the others who live here? That just that little mistake is enough to convince us you want something more than a home?” My father’s voice echoed around the vast room loudly.

“If you decide to kill me, I don’t object,” Jack said, and everyone’s eyebrows went up in surprise, including mine, “but my death would be over your head, now, wouldn’t it? Killing an innocent villager?”

“A trespassing villager,” Lydia corrected crossly.

There was silence for several seconds while the king processed this, while my heart pounded worriedly in my chest.

“Tell me more about you, Harris,” my father said. “I still haven’t heard enough to convince me you’re innocent.”

Jack sighed in irritation. “Back in Erinia, Damon and I only had our mother. She worked as a slave, and once I was old enough I did the same. They don’t treat slaves too well there, as you might know, and one day my mom heard someone was being sent on a mission to Messenia. She didn’t want this life for me or my brother, so she told me to get myself chosen so we could get out of here and go look for a house in the village and get a job, so I could raise my brother.

“The Officials would be suspicious if she came along, suspecting we’d want to escape, and they couldn’t afford to lose anymore slaves. So my mother told my brother and I to go ahead, and so I got myself chosen and dragged my brother along. I didn’t bother asking the villagers for a home, I just came straight here because of what I heard from my mother.”

Jack looked up, eyes bright as blue fire, with a powerful intensity behind them. His voice turned acid when he spoke again. “Soon after the Officials figured out what we’d done, my mother was killed. End of story.”

I could tell the atmosphere in the room had changed with Jack’s story. Everyone seemed tense or nervous, like their judgments over the two intruders were now different.

“Let me ask you something else, Mr. Harris,” my father murmured.

“Yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me sir,” Jack replied smartly, while Damon smirked and I bit back a smile.

My father scowled, ignoring the witty remark. “Do you know who my daughter is?”

“Blondie?”

King Lysander’s scowl deepened, and a dangerous look came across his steel gray eyes. “No, not “blondie”... Scarlett.”

Jack’s gaze shifted to me, and that strange feeling crept over my again, so I looked away, my face reddening deeply.

“She’s a princess,” Jack muttered.

“And it just so happens that your little cohorts have been after my daughter since she was born.”

“Why?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Jack rolled his eyes, but stayed silent.

“If you are from Erinia, how can I make sure you’re not here to harm my daughter?”

Jack shrugged. “You can’t. You’ll just have to trust me.”

“That’s not enough.”

Jack licked his lips, thinking again. “If I kill your daughter, then you have permission to kill Damon and me.”

My father chuckled. “It’s not as simple as that. Scarlett’s existence is much more important than both of your lives together.”

I had had enough. Suppressing anger that would only lead to an eruption of flames, I stood, and everyone looked at me in surprise.

“Scarlett?” my father asked, eyes shifting to me in surprise.

“Father, this is ridiculous,” I told him. “You’re interrogating these two when I am positive they’re not here to kill me. Why don’t you just give them what they want?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean just let them stay in the castle.”

“Well, I don’t think our trespassers should be let off two easy,” my father murmured musingly, and was quiet for the few seconds my heart felt like a hammer against my chest.

Then he turned to Jack and Damon—who was looking terrified.

“Here is what will happen,” he said stridently. “Both of you can stay here, as long as you work. In the mornings you’ll rise at five a.m. and help Marco with the cattle. You will work until seven a.m., and then you will attend daily classes at the academy. If it’s true you don’t want to be an Erinian, then you’ll work to become a Messenian. In the evenings you’ll help with whatever the villagers need help with. Whatever it is, you will not protest; you’ll complete everything effectively and suitably. If you choose not to work, you can look forward to the rest of your life in the dungeon, having your food brought by Elmer the goblin.”

Jack grinned, his teeth flashing white. “Compared to fighting a pixie every day for a drink in the river, its heaven, Mr. Castillo.”

“Glad to hear it, son. I hope you prove yourself worthy of my attention,” my father responded, and then turned to a bulky man which I recognized as a guard. He had a large lump on his forehead and his teeth were yellow and crooked.

“Release him and take him to the nurse ward,” my father instructed. “He looks like he needs some fixing up before a long day at work.”

The guard stumbled down the stands towards Jack and roughly grabbed at the rope binding him, releasing him a little more forcefully than necessary, and then released Damon, who rubbed his hands, wincing. Jack looked indifferent, but I could see some other emotion masked behind his eyes. Once I’d made my way down the stands, I walked over to him, my heart matching the pace of my steps.

“So,” I sighed, and Jack turned around, eyebrows lifting when he saw it was me. “Looks like I saved your butt.”

Jack smiled crookedly, and my heart faltered several beats before I had my breath back. A strand of hair had fallen into his eyes, and I ached to push it back, my fingers tingling.

“I guess,” he replied, still smirking.

I waited, but Jack just stared down at me, eyes unbelievably captivating, enticing, hypnotizing me...

“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” I asked petulantly, ignoring the spell he was putting over me.

He pursed his lips. “No.”

My eyes narrowed. “Oh?”

He shook his head, eyes mocking. “I don’t think so.”

“And why not?”

He shrugged. “I don’t say ‘thank you’.”

“Apparently. I just saved your life and you won’t even say ‘thank you’?” I asked in disbelief.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“If it wasn’t for me we’d be having your head for supper.”

“I guess you’ll have to stick to the lobster. Sorry.”

I laughed in disbelief, fury swelling inside me. “I can’t believe you!”

“Boy, come over here,” said a voice from behind me, and I looked to see Ms. Willis, the nurse, motioning to Jack.

I turned back around to scowl at him. “You are so ungrateful.”

“Look who’s catching on.”

And without another word, Jack turned and followed the nurse from the room in which we’d just been discussing his death, as easily as if he was strolling out of a party.

 

Reviews

[Syldor]

This is an amzing story! I do hope you continue!