Aubade

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

She stared at the wilted flower in her hands. The night grew dark. She stopped counting the hours, as restlessness quickly became a part of her routine.

Ilaria sat in her bedroom, trapped in the palace once more.

The flower in her hands was slowly crumbling, but letting go of it was next to impossible. The idea of being cared for had become so foreign, that the small flower breaking in her hands cracked her heart slightly.

She stood, fastening her robe and slipping on her shoes, sitting by the instrument beside the window. Her fingers brushed against the rough strings, and the flute-like whistle at the top. Her fingers plucked the strings softly, an ache forming in her chest as the notes softly echoed in the room. She blew softly into the pipe, a wispy, low whistle echoing from the pipe as a haunting melody filled the aching silence of her barren room.

Before the sun had risen from the earth, Ilaria already strolled down the hallways, dressed for combat. As part of her service to the King, she religiously attended sparring lessons. The anatomy of a body was a clear cut puzzle. She knew which pieces to bend, which places to strike so that her opponent would be immobilized long enough for her to slip away. She only knew how to hurt. She was a whirlwind of limbs, sparring with a dummy in the room. She poured her frustration into each movement. She panted as her fist collided with the dummy's abdomen. Her leg knocked its legs, and with a final punch, it collapsed onto the ground. She placed her hands on her knees, panting heavily, her heartbeat loudly thrumming in her ears.

She straightened her back, resetting the dummy, taking a stance once more-

"That's enough, Ilaria." She froze, slowly turning around, bowing deeply.

"Your Highness," She murmured, eyes cast downward as she stood in a low bow.

"You may rise," His voice echoed, cold and hard.

She slowly moved her gaze upwards, until it met the sharp gray eyes of the emperor.

"How might I help you?" She asked, doing her best to keep the anger from shaking her voice. He chuckled.

"I heard of your run-in with the rebels. I simply came to wish you a speedy recovery." She gave him a right-lipped smile, nodding her head.

"I'm fine, as you can see, your highness." He gave her a cruel smirk, stepping forward. She resisted the urge to take a step backwards.

"If you are recovered, I wish for you to seek out the name of the queen's spy. I would like to put an end to this useless imperial war." Her heart twinged. She hadn't spoken to the queen in years.

"I also came to inform you that your fathers illness has returned once more." He paused for a brief moment. IlarIa's heart sank into her stomach.

"Do give me that name whenever you have the chance." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Your highness?" She called for him.

"Might I visit my father-"

"The moment I have that name, you may leave, Ilaria." She bowed her head, waiting for him to leave, before sending the wooden dummy flying across the room.

She dropped to the floor, body curled against the wall. Her nails dug into her arm, leaving angry, red indents behind. A lump grew in her throat, words begging to burst from her lips. She swallowed thickly, forcing away tears that burned in her eyes, as realization set.

She was as much a prisoner as the Queen.

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She pulled the mask over her nose, dagger tucked into a hidden pocket of her tunic as she crept along the walls of the castle, silently creeping along the halls. She watched the Queen's figure spin around a corridor, her train flowing behind her. She pressed her hand against the cloth covering her mouth, withholding a sob.
Her gloved fingers moved silently against the wall, ready to hide at any given moment. Her hand tightened around the dagger hidden in her clothes, her breathing growing ragged, every muscle in her body screaming for her not to take another step forward.

The mask seemed to keep any air from entering her lungs, and the ugly, burning feeling that had swallowed her several hours earlier had returned.

Guilt.

She ripped it off her face, quietly gasping. Her chest burned as if it was about to explode. The queen was only an arm's length away.

Ilaria's face grew wet as she lunged, the sharp blade pressing against her mother's pale skin.

"I'm sorry," She whispered, but Kihara remained still.

"Who is it?" She asked softly, but the queen neglected to answer.

"Please, Kihara." A humorless chuckle left the queen's lips.

"You might as well kill me." Ilaria's hands shook.

"I can't." The queen laughed.

"He's going to let my father die, Kihara. Please." The queen smiled emptily.
"I'm afraid I can't help you." Ilaria faltered, hand trembling.
"I don't want to hurt you. Please. Please. Help me. I swear, I'll never look you in the eyes again. Please, Kihara. My family-" Within moments, Kihara had sent the dagger flying across the stone floor, and Ilaria had been flipped to the ground. Her arm slammed into the stone, blood quickly soaking through her bandages, a sharp pain returning. She swore under her breath, biting into her bottom lip.

"What about my family? My daughter was taken-"
"Which I had no hand in-"
"But she was still taken!" The queen hissed. Ilaria struggled to sit, clutching her arm desperately.

"You seem to forget that I was also taken, Kihara." A sharp blow across her face snapped Ilaria's head to the side. She winced.

"At least I never attempted to kill you." Ilaria laughed.

"Congratulations. You've met the minimum requirement for being a parent. Which is a lie, by the way. Sending rebels after me, with poisoned blades- you knew. You knew. You wanted me to die. What sort of mother kills her own child-"
"What sort of daughter attempts to kill her own mother?"
"What?" Ilaria spat.

"So it was you who-"
"No." A heavy silence fell between the two of them.

"I never tried to kill you."
"Your mind has been twisted since the day you stepped foot into my home." Ilaria stood, shakily. She swallowed the lump that ached in her throat.

"Give me the name of your informant." She spoke, her voice low.

"I won't."
"You'll let my father die, then?" Kihara pressed her lips together.

"Your father still lives. As does your brother." She blinked, stunned by the queen's cruelty. As a part of her shattered, something quickly became painfully apparent in her mind.

"You are still the monster I remember, mother." She spat, grasping her arm tightly.

The queen clenched her jaw, as the princess stood, turning her back to the royal she had once loved.