A few hours passed before the guards regained consciousness. The taller guard was holding his head whilst the smaller one rested his hand around his neck.

  “What do we tell La Mort?” the smaller guard asked.

  The taller guard, who was scared himself, walked over to where the smaller guard was standing and grabbed a hold of his armor. “Tell La Mort—what do you mean, what do we tell La Mort? We tell him absolutely nothing. All we can do now is pray to the gods that Ezra returns.”

  “But what if he finds out?”

  “If La Mort finds out, we’re as good as dead anyway. Letting the prince go—how would we look when we go to him? ‘Oh, sorry my King, Ezra strong-armed us and took the ship, there was nothing we could do.’ We look incompetent and unable to do our job. Our job is simple enough, and if we can’t do that, you and I both know what that means for us.”

  The guard took a large gulp and looked toward the hangar exit in fear. Wherever you are, Ezra, please come back. I know you don’t owe us anything, but our lives depend on it.

  Unfortunately for the guards, their prayers wouldn’t be answered as hours passed and night quickly turned into day. The cold silence of the watch was eventually broken by the first faint warmth of the rising sun.

  “What are we going to—what are we going to do?” the smaller guard stammered frantically. “He’s not back.”

  The taller guard stared off into the distance, racking his mind for any excuse to save their skin.

  “Are you just going to stand there and pretend this isn’t happening? What happened to all that talk earlier about saying nothing and hoping and praying he would return?” the smaller guard said, shaking his head fractiously at his comrade. “I knew we should have told La Mort. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to you.”

  The guard stepped forward and was met with the outstretched arm of the taller guard. “Do you ever stop talking? I just needed a moment to think, you know—save both of our asses. I’ve got a plan.”

  “Let’s hear it then.”

  “Who other than us two knows that Ezra’s ship was docked here before we started our shift?”

  The smaller guard stood there thinking, racking his head, going over who had been in and out of the docks. Then it dawned on him, his eyes snapping wide as a small, devilish smirk cracked at the corners of his lips. “No one worked the docks before we came on shift.”

  “So you know what that means, right? No one has any proof that Ezra left on our watch. So as long as we both keep it together, no one can blame us.”

  “Argh, you’re right.” Both guards began to nod their heads as their smiles took over temporarily before stopping and wincing in pain. They may have covered their tracks, but the pair weren’t out of the woods—just yet.

  Across the other side of the kingdom, the same sun reached Cane’s chambers. As he lay there asleep, rays of sunshine crept through his window, tracing delicately across his face, signaling the start of a brand new day and waking him up from his slumber. Yet the light felt more intrusive than welcoming.

  He rolled himself over, cast his sheets to one side, then sat up, staring into the distance for a moment before snapping back to. Though he woke up refreshed, the lingering anger from yesterday still remained. He sat there for a moment longer, then stepped down from his bed and headed toward the shower. His walk was a slow, ominous one, clouded by an array of thoughts from yesterday that he could not shake.

  His footsteps slowed as he entered the shower. His body swung towards the knob and his head hung low, resting against the tiles as he turned the knob, welcoming the release of the sudden storm of water that cascaded over him—a desperate attempt to clean his dirty skin and drown the sins of yesterday.

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  It didn’t matter how much he scrubbed his skin or tried to rack his brain to forget; the numbers played over and over again in his head like a sickness that would not leave, no matter how much he treated it. But Cane refused to let his mother be the victor. With a sharp twist of the nozzle, he killed the water and stepped out into the steam. He dressed with a grim, hurried focus before heading toward his sanctuary: the training room.

  When he arrived, the training room was empty, as it always was at this hour. He made his way to the top of the room, sinking to the floor with his legs crossed and his eyes shut as he awaited the rest of the men to join him so he could begin.

  Mother, you think you hold some control here, Cane said to himself as he began to jab at the side of his head with one solitary finger over and over in quick succession. You hold no domain here, nor any sway in my life. The sheer audacity that you feel you can intrude into my life whenever you want is blasphemy. You are nothing more than a desperate woman—a fugitive. Your desperate attempts at a reunion will only end with you behind bars.

  Twenty minutes passed before the first soldiers began to trickle in. Cane’s eyes shot open and he rose to his feet. His gaze locked onto the smaller soldier at the front of the pack.

  “You,” Cane said, his finger snapping out to point.

  “Me?” the soldier stammered, pointing nervously at his own chest.

  “Yes, you. Go and find my brother and bring him to me.”

  The soldier nodded frantically. “Yes, sir.” He then turned on his heel and bolted as fast as he could toward the door.

  As the rest of the men filled the room, Cane cut through the crowd toward the largest man in there. He was a behemoth, standing six-foot-eleven and weighing over three hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle, with a battle scar that ran down his face and claimed his eye. Everyone ran from sparring this giant, but not Cane; where others ran from the fire, Cane ran right to it, and in most cases, he ran right through it.

  “You’re with me today,” Cane said bluntly as he looked up at the tower of a man.

  The giant went to give Cane an answer, but Cane’s arrogance would not allow him to give the giant the time of day. He turned his back on the giant and began the walk towards the sparring mats. The giant stood there befuddled. No one had ever really spoken to him, let alone spoken to him with such disregard that he didn’t know what to do with himself.

  Cane stopped his walk dead, then cast his head over his shoulder, his lifeless eyes falling on the behemoth. “Listen to me, you big good-for-nothing. I won’t ask again. Get over here now,” he shouted.

  The giant’s heart began to race. Of course, he had heard the stories of Cane’s brutality, but coincidentally he had never witnessed the famous training sessions firsthand. But he knew whatever answer he gave Cane, it wouldn’t matter; the decision was out of his hands, so he lifted his feet and followed him over to the mats.

  On the other side of the kingdom, the messenger had finally reached Ezra’s quarters. His lungs burned from the sprint, but the sight that met him at the end of the hall made him forget his exhaustion. As he turned the corner, he saw the four guards from last night’s patrol, visibly shaken.

  “You guys look like you’ve seen better days,” the soldier chuckled.

  “It was you!” Marzer shouted at the top of his lungs.

  “Me? Huh?” The messenger took a few steps back, his heart thumping against his ribs as his eyes darted between the four.

  “No, it couldn’t have been you!” Marzer shouted again, this time through gritted teeth. With his breaths ragged and chest heaving up and down, he spoke. “You’re too weak to take us all out like that, so it couldn’t have been—or is that what you wanted us to think?”

  The messenger looked at him with confusion etched across his face. “Take you out? What are you guys talking about? What do you mean, take you out?”

  Errol, still holding the back of his head, stepped into line with Marzer. “Stand down, old friend. You’re barking up the wrong tree. Let the young man do the job he’s been tasked to do.”

  Mike, staring at the messenger with a sideways glance, stood up from the wall he was leaning on. “And what are your instructions exactly, soldier? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Cane sent me over here to bring Ezra over to the training room.”

  All four of the soldiers from last night’s patrol shuddered in unison at the sound of Cane’s name.

  “I see,” Errol responded, stepping forward to move his men out of the way to create a path for the messenger.

  The messenger was wary, his footsteps awkward, and when he came into step with the soldiers, his heart skipped a beat and his muscles tightened. Fear had taken over his body, but Cane had tasked him with a job that he couldn't turn his back on. He powered on until he came to Ezra’s door.

  He took a subtle glance back at the men and realized all eight eyes were on him still—watching, waiting for him to make his move. With his nerves still at an all-time high, he spun his head back around and began to knock on Ezra’s door