I choose Power

FOUR

Dahlia makes her way to the royal stables, a contingent of guards surrounding her, shepherding her slowly and surely away. She is not even allowed to bid her father a last goodbye and none of her family are allowed to relate with her anymore, not even to say goodbye. Her mind is strangely blank and her heart is bleak and she could have been sentenced to death and would not have been able to summon a response.

Inside the stables, the guards get on their horses, all of them keeping a fearful distance from her, none of them meeting her eye as her chained hands are jerked up and tied to the horse of the Captain of the royal guard. She glances down at her feet, vaguely grateful for the steel-toed combat boots she had pulled on earlier in the day. The captain gives a yank of the reins and the horse whinnies and stamps, nearly wrenching her arms out of their sockets and she grunts in pain.

"Stop." A voice says from behind them right as they are about to start the procession and they all look back. Rose stands at the entrance of the stables, a little satchel clutched in her hand. Her sister flinches when she meets her silver eyes but she walks tentatively forward. One of the guards jumps down from his horse and gets between them.

"Your Highness! You should go back, she is dangerous, we need to escort her out of the kingdom immediately." The guard says, sounding incredibly worried.

From behind him, she watches Rose pull herself to her full height, an impressive towering frame to look down her nose at the guard.

"Do you dare to detain me? To restrain my movements?" She asks, each word laced with imperial command.

"No, never, your Highness. But... your sister..." The man stammers.

"Get out of my way." She commands and the man scuttles to do as she bids  Dahlia admires her sister's effortless intimidation, made more effective by her customary tall frame and golden crown of hair.  The Captain climbs down from his horse behind her and moves forward.

"I am sorry, your Highness, but we have orders. She is not to interact with any member of the royal family from the moment she was exiled onwards." He says, bowing deeply in apologies.

Rose scoffs. "And you, Captain, dare to treat me like a fool, telling me about your orders like I know nothing about them." She says, voice dropping with condescension.

"Forgive me, your Highness. That was not my intention." The Captain rushes to say.

"Then what was? I am Rose Tallhorn, I did not make the walk all the way to the stables to be sent back like a simpleton. Stand aside, Captain. I will speak with my sister." She commands.

The captain visibly weighs his options and wisely deciding not to make an enemy of a Tallhorn, steps aside with a bow.

Dahlia looks at her sister, her throat burning but no tears fall down her cheek, for she has no more tears to spare.

"Your eyes, Dahlia.", Rose whispers, standing in front of her. "How did this happen?"

When Dahlia does not respond, Rose holds out the satchel she had brought. "Here, hide it. I do not think you have even had the chance to eat all day, it contains some bread and milk, and some cronnies. I am sorry I couldn't pack more."

Dahlia takes the satchel, unable to speak for the emotions clogging her throat. Grief, relief, love, rage and fear. She is simply overwhelmed to have someone treat her like a human being.

"I know you did not kill Father, you could never. Everyone is just too blinded by grief to really see it, and Celeste's testimony..." She trails off with a frown.

In that moment, a piece of Dahlia which had been cast at sea by having her entire family and the entire kingdom turn against her returns back to her, clicking into place and she is finally able to breathe properly. She is not entirely alone after all. The love and trust of her sister heals a broken part of her and following her impulse, she clasps her sister to her shoulder for a hard hug. Around the stables, the sound of swords being drawn echoes but she does not care. She keeps her sister clutched to her chest until she reluctantly has to let go.

"Thank you. " She whispers.

"I will find you, someday." Rose promises.

"Or I will find you, with the head of Papa's killer, I promise it." She says, the low burn of vengeance beginning to ignite in her belly. Rose nods, satisfied and turns to the Captain.

"Exiled or not, Dahlia is a Tallhorn. She will not stumble through the streets of the kingdom like a common w***e. Ready her horse." She says, her voice daring him to contradict her. He looks like he wants to say something, but he wisely keeps his mouth shut and with a nod and his expression pinched like he has tasted something vile, he motions for his men to ready her horse.

"Yes, your Highness." He says.

The next few minutes are spent rapidly getting her horse ready. When the door to the last stall is throw open, she hears her Splayer, Kaderin huff, catching her scent. She looks longingly down the stall, wishing she could ride on her and say good bye to her one last time but she knows she no longer has any right to the majestic creature. Rose catches the direction of her gaze and her mouth turns down, there is only so much power she can exert, there is no way she could command them to let them take the Splayer. Perhaps she does deserve it, she might not have fed her father poison but she had dealt the last blow that felled the great man, never mind that it had been an act of mercy. Somehow, she has to live with the title of kin-slayer now. She turns away from the direction of Kaderin's snuffling and climbs atop her horse. The reins are handed over to the Captain and with one last look at her sister, she stands proud and straight as she is escorted out of the stables.

When they come out into the light, she sees that about half of the entire kingdom has come to watch her procession. She meets noone's eyes but sits proud and tall on her horse as it is kicked into a canter. The people talk and murmur among themselves, pointing fingers and narrating the tale of the daughter who murdered her beloved father while everyone was out celebrating. Frustration crawls up her throat, and for the first time, she has the revelation that behind her tough, confident exterior, the opinions of her people do matter to her. It would be pointless to tell them that she is innocent, she has to do the one thing that will prove her innocence. She has to find out who killed her father.

Her thoughts are cut short when a rotten tomato is thrown from the crowd and hits her cheek, exploding with a little splash. She glances down at her red-stained clothes unbelievably and looks back up to find Marcus's sneering face in front of the crowd. Of course, he had bothered himself to be out today and rub shoulders with commoners just so he could get his petty revenge. Her hands clench beside her and she wishes the guards had let her keep at least one knife, because there is one murder she would happily commit. There is a stunned silence as the people watch a Tallhorn get publicly censored and they wait for her reaction but despite the angry hum in her head and her raging bloodlust, she cannot do a thing about it for her chained hands are fastened to the horse's side. She glares at him, the promise of pain in her eyes enough to chill one in the heat of summer and casts a terrible look around at the rest of the crowd gathered. Some have more rotten fruits raised to throw at her but at her look, they shift and hesitate and look to one another before slowly letting their hands down.

"Kin-killer! King-killer! She killed King Consort Silas!" The outburst comes from Marcus once again and he shakes a finger at her, red in the face. She wishes so badly to grab the finger, break it to pieces and jam them into his eye. He is not yet done. "Our beloved King! The shining light of the kingdom, cut down with her hands!"

The crowd, reminded of her supposed crimes get riled up. Their voices and murmurs rise in volume until several red-faced commoners yell at her, spittle flying from their mouth in their rage.

"Kin-slayer! King-slayer!" The shouts follow her down the procession, increasing in magnitude. The faces of the crowd are contorted in identical looks of grief and anger. She is not surprised when the second tomato crashes on her shoulder with a splatter, and then another, and many other fruits follow after it. Some even throw stones at her, hitting her in the shoulder and in the stomach and doubling her over in pain before the guards form a loose circle around her, shoving away the agitated crowd. A man shoves between two guards with a knife raised high and a crazed look in his eyes before one of the guards abandon the formation and drives his horse between them, knocking the knife from the man's fist and smashing the back of his head with the pommel of his sword, dropping him. Looks like noone has any qualms about knocking people out on this day. She looks away from the man, stinging at sitting helpless and vulnerable and needing to be saved by guards. She tunes out the hate-filled roar of the crowd, resolutely staring forward, detesting every second that she is as helpless as a sacrificial lamb. She kicks her horse's side lightly and the animal increases her speed, the guards immediately increasing theirs to match her and keeping the formation around her, they steer her through her kindgom.

At a point, the crowds begin to thin and finally, her and her contingent emerge from the last group of people into empty streets. She looks around at the mostly empty homes and imprints the memory of her kingdom into her mind, because she has let herself be exiled but she does not intend for it to stay that way.

The guards kick their horses into a run and hers goes along and they sweep over the streets of Solaria, headed for the southern borders. The paved, beautiful streets give way more and more to places ravaged by the chaos of nature and widlife and after a while, they leave civilization behind entirely and streak past trees and mountains. Finally, the guards begin to slow down until they come to a stop. She eyes them warily, she has known most of these men since she was young but they, like everyone else absolutely love her father and as his supposed killer, she is not sure what she should expect from them outside the safety of Solaria. She tenses when the Captain gets down and approaches her but he does not bother to look at her. Two more guards get off their horses and help their Captain to untie her chains from the horse and free her hands, making sure to avoid contact with as much of her as they can. The captain grabs the satchel Rose had given her and throws it in her direction and she easily snatches it from the air. They climb back on their horses while she watches them and the captain pulls out a parchment from a small bag he had hung from his saddle.

"Princess Dahlia Tallhorn," he reads from the parchment, "for the murder of the King Consort Silas Tallhorn, Queen Thalia Tallhorn the eleventh banishes you from the land of Solaria for all time.. You are to make your way far away from this kingdom and never come back. You are to never step within a hundred miles of the kingdom and you are to cease all contact with the royal family. From this day onward, you are stripped of your title and privilege and if you are ever seen in the vicinity of Solaria at any time, any man or woman in the kingdom has leave to kill you on the spot. From this day onward, if you are spotted in Solaria, you die." When he is done reading, he rolls up the parchment paper and without another word, turns his horse around and canters away, the rest of the guards following behind him.

She watches their retreat until they disappear beyond the horizon and even then, she watches the distant swirl of dust for a long time, feeling the last remnant of her tie to her kingdom vanish in the wind. The incredulous events of the day have taken a toll on her and she cannot believe it was this morning that she and her three womb sisters had been so excited about the competition. This year's Behemoth was supposed to be different, to be glorious for her, for each of them. She scoffs slightly at her thoughts, she could have never anticipated just how different the Behemoth this year would be.

Physically and mentally weary, she turns her horse around and canters away.

The shock of the day has not fully hit her but the realisation that her father is no more, not here anymore to joke with her and laugh with her and solve her problems for her is an overwhelming thought and she shoves it away, not ready to analyze it.

In a daze, she proceeds forward, uncaring of where she is headed, and not that she would know if she was paying attention. She has spent the whole of her seventeen years in the safety of Solaria and had never imagined she would be forced out at any point. Her horse perceives her mood and keeps her head low, cantering softly and keeping to the main road. She leans down on her stomach, running a finger over her strong muscular neck.

"What should I call you?" She asks her horse and she nickers softly. "I would name you something clever but I am out of ideas." She tells the horse and it nickers again. "You will just have to wait to get your name." She pats it and runs a hand behind her ears.

She straightens back up and looks around at her unfamiliar surroundings. She has been trained to strategize and to fight with nearly every weapon but noone has ever taught her how to survive when you are exiled and on your own for the first time. In the mean time, she decides to lets the day trickle away and think of her next move the next day.

She has travelled in a daze for sometime when she hears noises somewhere in front of her. She stops her horse and directs him behind a copse of trees, not ready to risk running into unfriendly strangers. She thinks she could definitely take a fight with anyone and win but that had not been the sound of a lone traveller but several. She gets off her horse and motions her horse to be quiet, feeling silly but all it would take is a wrong-timed nicker to give them away. Thankfully, the lady luck seems to be smiling down on her and her horse stamps a little more before quieting down and she peeps from behind the trees.

A group of men turn around the corner, talking loudly and laughing. They are thick scarred men with only a slim tall man in the company of five and they all have a a wild uninhibited look about them that tells her that they are your run-of-the-mill travellers. Raiders.

Thankful that she had gotten out of their way, she recalls vaguely hearing her maids mention raiders terrorising the far reaches of other kingdoms and the free lands. They had gone on to mention things they knew if raiders and none of them had been good. Thieves, murderers, rapists, thugs. They are not a lot you want to accidentally run into.

They drag a covered cart behind them, calling out crass jokes about women, jeering and throwing insults back and forth. Thankfully, none of them notice or pay particular attention to the set of horse prints on the road, probably because they are what you would expect to see. The loud company passes, slowly disappearing over the bend and she stays behind the trees for a while more until she can no longer hear their voices before coming back out. The little episode drains her and when her heartbeat returns to normal, she finds her head lolling and her eyes closing on their own.

She will have to sleep, unprotected and vulnerable to discovery but it is a chance she will have to take and she uses the next few minutes leading her horse off the path into the forest, in search of a place she can sleep. Another hour later, she thinks she has found it.

Faraway from the path and the chance of discovery by malicious travellers, it is a secluded alcove surrounded by trees and protected from passers-by wide leaves. Another great aspect of the location is that it is not too far from a clear stream. A rock sits in the depths of the little natural alcove and after unsaddling her horse, taking it down to the stream and tying her reins securely to a tree, she collapses against it with a sigh. Sh had thought of taking a dive into the stream to remove the pieces of rotten fruit still stuck to her body and her clothes but she had been so exhausted that all she had managed was washing her face before sliding back up to her alcove. The ground is littered with rocks that poke her and no amount of shifting makes her get comfortable.

She takes her satchel and finally searches through it. Inside, she finds the bread and milk that Rose had promised, some cheese, a bottle of water, a lighter and a small dagger. She considers making a fire but decides against it, for she is trying to move below the radar and not attract all types of unsavory creatures to herself. Her stomach growls and she suddenly realizes just how ravenous she is. Taking a gulp of water to soothe her parched throat, she spends the next minutes taking her breakfast, lunch and dinner. She knows she should keep some for the next day, she will have no more food after she finishes it but the reasoning is a little hum at the back of her mind as she polishes off the entire meal, the bread and cheese tasting like one of the best delicacies served at the palace. When she is done, she gulps some more water, finally having enough of an inhibition to keep half of it for the next day. Weary, she places the satchel on the rock and uses it as a pillow and she is so exhausted that she promptly falls asleep the minute her eyes close.

Her sleep is restless and her dreams are terrible, filled with bleeding fathers and assassins lurking behind behind screens of smoke. She cries out in her sleep, trying her best to save her father again and again, never getting there on time and when her horse neighs and stamps her feet in alarm, she is grateful to be jerked awake.

She looks around blearily, not at all rested and searches for her horse. She finds her still tied to the same tree but the sight she wakes up to sends fear racing down her spine.

All around her are red eyes winking in the moonlight as a pack of wolves circle her and her horse hungrily, ropes of saliva dripping down their mouth.