Estranged

Trust

“He painted my ideal world to me and promised to make it a reality. That is why I serve him, Haylen.”

The guard grunted, seemingly unaffected by Aliyah’s earnest response. Aliyah could not care less, however. In her and Haylen’s little exchange, she had just given—now it was her turn to collect. She opened her mouth to ask her next question when Haylen interjected, instead asking a question that sent Aliyah’s heart racing.

“Were you there when he died?”

Aliyah did not have to ask whom Haylen referred to. Raw agony yawned in the guard’s harrowed eyes, evident as to make her appear vulnerable in a way Aliyah had not experienced nor expected. “No,” Aliyah answered, forcing her eyes to hold Haylen’s even as she felt compelled to lower them in shame. “No, I wasn’t.”

Deafening silence followed. Aliyah stared at the floor, deflated, sure this was the end of their conversation. And true enough, she heard retreating footsteps. She looked up as the door slid open and Haylen paused at the threshold, backing her.

“This is what she wants with you,” Haylen said, departing.

The door slid shut behind her. The lights in the cell dimmed. A holographic screen, which began to display a video, shimmered into existence on the door. Aliyah walked closer to it, gaining a clearer view as she watched a recording of Wilda Damij’s address to the District, calling for Gringe’s surrender or Aliyah’s life.

***

The enormity of what he was about to do did not elude Gringe. He knew. He had replayed every single possible consequence it would reap. Yes, he did not stop. If anything, in his mind he plotted as if it were done already. It was an evil decision he had made; evil only in part, surely, but evil enough. More than evil enough.

His MiraLink lay in front of him on the desk in the corner of his quarters. This was the first hour he was spending in the somewhat spacious room. Dawn was only a few hours away. As soon as he had entered the room and locked himself in, he had begun a meticulous search for listening devices. Having found none, he proceeded to sit behind the desk.

And now he was going to compromise his entire morality.

“Mira, call His Royal Highness, Selik.”

The device started to beep. Gringe waited, recognizing that any chance he had to pull out from this line of action would end in a few, dwindling seconds.

“Hello, hello, District Head Gringe? You would not believe the glee that filled me upon seeing that it was you calling. To what do I owe this immense pleasure?”

There it was; chance gone. “Prince.”

“Ha! Stoic as ever, I see.”

“Like I’m supposed to be chatty with the backstabbing prick who banished me from the highest point in my career. Don’t joke with me.”

“Literally anyone else and I would have them killed for daring to speak to me that way. Which is neither here nor there.

“I would remind you however that you are hung up over a tiff you could have avoided.”

“I couldn’t hav—”

The levity bled out of Prince Selik’s voice, “Spare me the sanctimonious holier-than-thou crap because why else would you be calling me now? I told you, Gringe. I told you you would come back. This world does not suffer the righteous, my friend. So tell me, what morally abhorrent deed have you come to ask of me?”

Gringe gritted his teeth. The bastard was not any less insufferable than he had been nearly a decade ago. He did not let his ire show. “I’m here because Wilda slipped, as I’m sure you must be aware already.”

The prince went silent for a beat—a truly rare thing. “What are you implying, dear Gringe?”

“The only individual in Doranne who should have the level of access to Mirabelle that she displayed is me. Anyone else who does has to be backed from up. Level 1 kinda up.”

“That is truly interesting. Too bad it is only conjecture.”

“I knew of your ambitions, Selik. Heck, I even revealed them to the court at my trial. It fell on deaf ears then, which led to my conviction, but imagine how it would look now if it was found to be correct?”

“You don’t know that I’m the one backing her. For all we know, it is my cousins in their old age and boredom seeking to find a rawer excitement than they could ever derive in Level 1.”

“Perhaps. But I know that whoever is backing her is only being allowed to do so with your permission. I’ll bet my head that you’re linked.”

“You have no evidence, Gringe.”

“It took the Royal Court and all your power as the prince to stop me last time. Do you really want to leave me to go find the evidence? It’s a long way from your seat to here, Selik. And trust me, in Doranne, I am the one with the influence.”

Another spate of silence followed from the prince—longer this time. “You know, it had begun to occur to me that perhaps our young Wilda is beginning to overstep her bounds.”

Gringe scoffed, “You’re like three years older than sh—”

“Nevertheless,” Selik talked over him. “Could you imagine? She has the rest of the Seven beneath her thumb, lording over them like a puppeteer would her puppets, yet she reports to us that they are too powerful for her to subjugate. She amasses a force beyond which she has been granted leave to, the only reason for which would be to use in elevating her station. Betrayal. And I can’t have that, Gringe. I just won’t.”

So it began. What Selik was hinting at was that their interests were actually aligned. They both needed Wilda disposed of. Which meant they both needed each other.

“And prodigally, you return, just as I foretold. Tell me your terms, Gringe.”

Selik was not beating around the bush. Gringe preferred it that way.