Insurrection [On Hold]

3 For Family and Country

In the morning I'm escorted to a new, larger room. Nate, seated in a chair with his feet propped on the table, scoops oatmeal in his mouth. I toss him the bead, and he catches it. 

"I'm impressed, Princess."

I curtsy.

He signals for the man who brought me here to leave. Nate stands, setting the bowl on the table, and walks toward me. Taking my hand, he pushed the bead back in the hole my fist makes. "Keep it."

I slip the bead into my pocket whilst appraising him. "So does the rebel leader have a soft spot?"

"Does the princess?"

"I'm more than just a princess without a name."

"But I can tell you like me calling you Princess just fine."

I cross my arms.

"Which brings me to my real question." He mimics my arms. "What is a princess like you doing out here? As I believe my soldier put it, 'It was like she fell from the sky.'"

"I was running, and I tripped, and I fell down a hill." Lightning flashes and soldiers yell in my mind. "A few minutes later your soldier found me."

"What were you running from though?"

"My soldiers."

His eyebrows rise for a split second. "That's problematic."

He has no idea. I can't go home, and I don't even know if I want to do so. I'll only be forced to kill. "You know, as does everyone, if you're in the royal family and you don't inherit the throne, you have to join the army. All my older sisters have gone to the ranks and so have my brothers. My parents trained us our whole lives in combat and war, in strategy and interrogation. Interrogation both ways."

"You mean as in holding up under interrogation?"

I hold out my hand, palm open and facing him. "My father gave me that cut." I give a small smile. He said if I preferred to act like a lady than act like a warrior then he'd change that." I hold out my other hand, and his eyes widen at the scarred tissue across each of my palms.

"The king did this?"

"They were never the prettiest hands." I shrug and pull them back to me. "But don't think I can't handle your interrogations."

"So you ran just because you didn't want to go into the army? You didn't want to be under someone?"

He wouldn't understand. Fighting is his way of life. He's the enemy. I stare at him, silent, my face betraying nothing.

"Did you mean to come and join me?"

I want to laugh but I don't. "My loyalty lies with my family and country. Besides I don't want to kill anyone."

He walks to a wide table and swipes his hand over the top of it. A hologram of Blanair the capital of our country Lumiere.

With caution I walk to the opposite end of the table as him. I stare at his hand as it weaves through streets.

"I want you to join us," he says, staring at the city below us.

"No."

"Your father created us in a way." He inches around the table toward me. "He wouldn't listen to our complaints and deemed us rebels. We didn't want a civil war much like you don't want to fight in one."

"You couldn't wait until the war with Quill was over?"

"I think it makes for the perfect timing."

"You think I would betray my family and country?"

"Our country gave up their freedom so they could be safe from rebels, because your father told them they needed to do so. So that they could feel protected, they gave up their rights. They're slaves now, aren't they?" He stands in front of me now. "You know slavery has returned to Lumiere since the war between us began."

"There is no slavery. There is poverty but not slavery."

"Maybe not in the palace, but throughout Lumiere people have had to sell themselves to others to survive." He places his hands on the table, trapping me in with his arms. "You have too much talent to let it rot in that cell. Help me repair our country."

I press my lips together. I'm not stooping to his level. I have a loyalty to my family I must uphold.

"Or would you rather play a part in its destruction?"

His eyes bore into mine. I open my mouth to answer--

The room shakes and shouts come from the hallway. He moves away from me, and I glance up at the ceiling.

"You know what's happening, don't you?" he yells over the rumble.

"I said I was running, I never said I wasn't being followed."

He unlocks the door and runs out, leaving me the opportunity to escape; I don't matter to them if they all die.