CHAPTER 83: FALSE PRINCESS [1]

"One who just got here is already making promises to another who has been here for so long," Nyella said quietly. "Aren’t you funny?"

Aeron gave a small laugh. "Am I not meant to? Or does that mean you’ve already figured out your own way out of here?"

Nyella did not answer.

"I asked you a question," Aeron said again.

"Not really," Nyella finally replied.

Aeron frowned in thought. Then another question came to him. "But wait... do they know yet? That you are the princess?"

Nyella’s voice lowered. "They don’t. Not yet. But if I don’t act soon, they will find out sooner or later. And when they do, it won’t end well. They will use me. And you know how my father will react if word reaches him. He won’t hesitate to give in to whatever demands they make."

"Nyella..." Aeron started, but she cut him off.

"You know what? Just... allow me to think, Aeron. Please."

"Think?"

"Yes," she said. "I need to decide whether the plan I have will work... or if I must restrategize. Just give me that time."

Aeron widened his eyes. "Wait, hold on. You mean you already have a plan?

*****

Far away, in another corner of the camp, Chief Uzek of the nomads sat on his bed covered in furs. His chamber smelled of smoke and strong wine. He heard a knock on his door.

"Enter," he commanded.

One of his guards stepped in, bowed his head, and spoke in their rough tongue. "The princess is here."

Uzek’s eyes gleamed with excitement. "Bring her in."

The guard stepped aside, and after a moment, a young woman walked in. She was slim and graceful, with long dark hair and beautiful eyes. To the nomads, she looked every bit a royal. But this was not Princess Nyella.

It was Sira, Nyella’s closest friend and personal guard, who had taken her place. Only the people of Ivarion knew the truth. Chief Uzek did not. He had never laid eyes on the real princess before.

Uzek’s jaw dropped. "Oh my," he said, standing up. "What a beauty! If our women were half as beautiful as you, Princess, I would not be a warrior at all. No, no, I would be a husband to all of them!"

He threw his head back and laughed at his own words.

Sira, forcing herself to stay calm, muttered under her breath. "I thought we would need an interpreter here... but it seems we don’t."

Uzek grinned. "No, my dear. Why do you think I am chief? Of course, I speak many tongues. To lead, one must hear and understand many voices."

Sira straightened. "Well then, you called for me. What is it you want?"

Uzek waved a hand toward the low table in front of him. "Oh yes, yes, I did. But first, sit. Sit down."

Sira did not move. She only looked at him carefully, weighing his every word.

Uzek raised both hands in mock surrender. "Oh, do not mind me, Princess. Rest assured, you are safe with me. Even if I wished to harm you... Your rare beauty has made me weak." He let his eyes linger on her. "No man who sees such beauty could allow harm to come to it."

He gestured again. "So come, my dear. Sit down."

At last, Sira forced herself to step forward and sit on the edge of the chair he offered. And as Sira sat down, Chief Uzek sat in the chair opposite her.

"Hope you are well, my princess," he said with a false smile. "I trust no one has harmed you."

Sira’s lips curved in a bitter smile. "One would think this concern of yours is genuine."

"Of course it is genuine," Uzek said, leaning forward. "Why would you believe otherwise?"

"You claim to be caring," Sira replied. "Yet you attacked a people who were already broken, men and women who had just fought for their kingdom, for their very lives. You struck when we were at our weakest, after a brutal war. You did not only invade us, you dragged us here, shut us up in dungeons without mercy. My people have hardly eaten since their capture. And now you sit before me and speak of being a good man, only because you see a woman you call beautiful."

Uzek’s smile did not fade. "Oh, my princess. My beautiful princess. Do not mistake me. I am not a good man, at least, not as good as you may hope. But for you... I am willing to try. I will give the order. Food shall be taken to your soldiers, and they shall not be treated like slaves. But you must understand, these are hard times. We do what we must to keep our people alive."

"Your people," Sira repeated. "Your people who raid villages. Your people who burn fields and steal what little farmers have left. That is how you survive?"

Uzek let out a low laugh. "Ah, these are the stories they tell you about us, are they not? Lies about us are everywhere. Perhaps, princess, while you stay among us, you will learn the truth. You will see how we live, how we laugh, how we fight. Not just the dark tales you were taught."

Sira leaned back, folding her arms. "So this is it? This is why you brought me here? To speak soft words? To charm me with talk of lies and laughter? You forget, the enemy we fought is still out there. They will soon march toward you, and your people will not stand a chance against them."

Uzek’s smile faltered for a moment, but only for a moment. Then he said. "Yes. I know. That is exactly why I keep you close. That is why you sit here, across from me. So that when the time comes, your father, the great king of Ivarion, will open his gates for us. He will let my people enter and take shelter within your walls."

Sira’s eyes blazed. "I would rather die than see you set foot in Ivarion."

The chief chuckled. "Then, my beautiful princess, you will see your death soon. For whatever it takes, I will lead my people into your kingdom."

"..."