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The WeatherMaker - Prince of Light By Lady Lilium Characters: 5306

Updated: 2018-07-10 19:03

Luke stared up at her silently. She led him through the palace by way of the many corridors and stairs and back to his bedroom. She opened the door for him.

Cam glanced up, his expression splitting into a wide grin at the sight of his brother.



He rose from the bed, running to Luke and embracing him tightly, fighting back his sobs.

'Thank the gods you're safe' Cam cried into his shoulder. 'I was scared you might be dead.'

'I was scared of the same thing…'

They broke apart, staring into each other's faces. Both were crying.

Their mother stepped beside them.

'I can't even begin to image what would drive you to do such an unbelievably foolish thing and leave the palace like that' she said folding her arms, 'but from now on; you are to remain in this palace. The gates to the gardens will be locked…that tree you climbed will be chopped down, and all the windows and doors in this palace will be kept sealed and guarded at all times. Do you understand?'

The boys hesitated.

'Do I make myself clear?!'

'Yes mother' the twins echoed at that.

'You are never to leave this palace again' she told them. 'Ever again.'

Cam's heart began to sink in his chest, and his gaze drifted then towards the council who stood near the doorway.

His eyes met with Brioke's, the older council member glaring back at him.

Cam felt an icy chill run through his body.

Chapter Seven

The queen strode down the corridor, deep in thought.

Things had seemed to have returned to normal, or as normal as things were nowadays. The past few days in which her sons had both been missing had been difficult, and she had feared for their lives, as well as her own.

Without the young princes, she was just a loose piece. Miranda frowned to herself. Well…if she lost her sons, she would be even more of a loose piece than she was now. Now she was only a hindrance to the council, and did everything she could (what little she could) to stand against them.

She had expected an attempt on her life; the possibility had always simmered at the back of her mind. Her handmaiden, whose job had been to taste all her food before she ate it, had been poisoned and was now dead. Miranda knew it would be her turn soon. But even so, when it came, it caught her completely off guard. No one could guess when death would pay them a visit.

She rounded the corner and had no time to react or even register what was going on. The instant she rounded the corner, a figure standing there punched her hard in the stomach, doubling her over. She was grabbed by her throat and thrown on her back before she even realised that

she was being attacked. She tensed quickly, drawing a silent breath between her teeth and leaning back away from the knife held to her throat.

'Make a noise and you're dead.'

Miranda stared in horror up at the man before her, her mind a frantic whirl of thought and emotion, though nothing yet was making sense.

The man's face was hidden, and she did not recognise his voice.

He grabbed her by the arm, hauling her to her feet. He began to drag her down the corridor.

'Where are you taking me?' she demanded.

'Shut it!' He snapped viciously back at her, without turning or slowing down.

He held her tightly with his arm around her throat, moving too quickly for her, and she stumbled several times as she was pulled.

Miranda glanced fearfully around as the man that held her slowed to a stop. She saw a rope tied to a banister of the stairs, thrown high up and over the chain of a chandelier and hanging back down again. The end of the rope was tied in a loop, like the kind one would wear around their neck before they were hung.

Miranda saw as the man bent to pick up the loop at the end of the rope, lifting it as if about to place it around her neck.

She acted without much thought, her mind set only on defending herself.

She threw her head back sharply, smacking him hard in the face.

The man's grip on her loosened and she took this chance to flee from him, only managing a few steps, before he caught her again. He began to attack her, always striking her on the body, where any injuries could not be seen beneath her clothes.

She screamed then, her voice cut short when the assassin clamped his hand over her mouth.

She was dragged backwards again, back towards the balcony, and the rope was tied around her neck.

She began to scream obscenities at him. The assassin sharply yanked the rope tighter around her throat, silencing her.

Miranda gasped painfully as he lifted her over his shoulder, preparing to throw her over the balcony.

But he froze suddenly. Miranda realising this, stopped struggling.

She looked around, towards the direction the assassin was facing.

Her heart skipped a beat as she saw both her sons, standing side by side and watching with horror, disbelief and confusion.

The assassin relaxed his grip on her, lowering the queen to the floor.

He turned and walked away as if nothing has happened, slipping around the corner and out of sight, never to return.

Miranda let out a heavy breath, pulling the rope off her as quickly as she could and leaning back against the wall.

A suicide Miranda thought frantically. He wanted it to look like a suicide.

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