Tales after Dusk 05

There is a moment of silence before Jasper rises to his feet, "Well I had better work on the Dessert Beauty," he says quietly before grabbing his cloak and bag and slipping out the door.

"Yes, and I ah..." Kane says as he dumps his empty bowl on the table and starts to walk the door, "Make up or something, right Basil?"

Basil nods, "And frocks," he says, quickly following.

Aiken dumps Alecta off of his lap as he joins them, "And a carriage for sure."

Despite Alecta's dirty looks, they are all gone in a matter of seconds, leaving her alone with Thorne. He looks at her sharply, waiting for an explanation.

She stares right back at him, before speaking softly, "I know this is your life. Despite what you think, we are all taking this very seriously."

"You could have fooled me!" He shouts at her. He has been going stir crazy, having been locked inside this tiny room with a bunch of thieves and subjected to things that he hasn't ever had to experience in his life.

Alecta sits down across from him at the table, "I'm sorry Thorne but if this is to work, I need you to trust me."

"Trust you," he snorts, "I have no idea who you are—how can I trust you?"

She gets a slightly hurt look on her face, "I am the only one who came to your aid when no one else would—I am the one who risked my own life to save yours. I am the only one who can get you back on that throne; frankly, I don't know what more you need to know."

"I need to know the plan," he says, frustrated though slightly guilty for yelling at her. He rubs his tired face so that she can't read his expression.

"If it is to work, I cannot tell you," she says quietly.

He looks at her, seeing a beautiful woman. For the first time he sees the tiredness in her face. "Then who are you? Where did you come from? Why did you come here?"

She shuts her eyes for a moment, not wanting to answer his questions. All she wants to do is to shut him out of her mind, get him back to being Prince so that she can run away and leave him behind her, because what her heart tells her could never work--not with someone like him. "I'm just a thief, that's all."

He stares at her blankly. When he doesn't speak, she rolls her eyes and stands, walking to the chair in front of the fireplace, "My parents died when I was young; I don't really remember much of them. I know we lived in a house and I can vaguely remember their faces but beyond that all I remember is growing up in the streets of Reddington," she slumps back into the chair, obviously debating on what she should or should not tell him, "Though someone like yourself would never realize, there is an entirely separate caste beyond the middle class and the poor—it is made up of the unwanted and forgotten, the discarded and left behind. A lot of orphaned children get picked up by the church but those that don't bond together in a completely different subculture with their own rules, their own structure, their own punishments. Those that live long enough to see their teen age years are in charge; there aren't many of them because by then they are usually thrown in prison," she pauses, looking into the fire for a few moments as she recalls the past she has tried to block out for years. "I was seven, the first time it happened; I had stolen many things before but one of the other kids was sick and needed some medicine. I broke into the pharmacy and got caught. Just by looking at me they knew no one wanted me, so into a cell I went."

As things begin to make sense, he feels horrible about arguing with her last night. "How did you get out?" He asks curiously, joining her by the fire.

She flashes him a brilliant, fake smile, "I'm a master thief, remember? I spent an entire childhood honing my skills. After I finally broke out of jail, there wasn't a cage that could keep me. Not even the wretched bars of the orphanage." She looks at him, feeling slightly vulnerable as she has never told anyone this before, "When I was eleven, a traveling theatre troupe came to town and put on a performance. Afterwards, when they were celebrating in a tavern I snuck into their wagon and stole something, a necklace. It was no doubt a prop, not worth much but the next morning, I felt something that I had never felt before—guilt. So I returned it. Instead of sending me back to prison, the troupe decided to take me with them. At first I tended to the laundry, cooking and chores. When we hit larger, more competitive towns, they sent me on scouting missions to gather information about their competitors. One day, they decided to perform a particular play that had the part of a young girl in it; after they casted me in that position, I continued acting with them until the day they disbanded. I was on my own for a while, until I met Basil in New Waterford; he tried to woo me to steal my money but I saw him coming from a distance," she shakes her head, remembering. "I took him for every coin he had and booked out of town. When he caught up with me I thought for sure he would try to kill me but instead he wanted to combine talents. Over the course of a few heists we met the other men and together we have terrorizing towns for a several years now."

Thorne looks at her a moment; such a hard life has forced her to do what was necessary to survive, yet he is surprised that such a lovely woman as herself didn't simply latch onto a wealthy man and make the best of the situation. He wants to ask her why she never married but then the thought occurs to him that maybe she has. "Do you ever get tired of it? All the running?"

She catches his eye when he speaks to her and she defiantly holds it for a moment before dropping her gaze down to the rug as she considers his question, "I think I get tired of pretending all the time. I like to think that I'd want a permanent home somewhere but I have never had one so I am not sure if I'd even enjoy it or not."

"Would you ever consider staying here, after everything is finished?" He asks softly, though he really meant will you stay here. When she looks back up at him, he tries to keep his affect blank, lest she somehow be able to read his mind.

Alecta finds the question a little unnerving. Just a few days ago she was considering spending the rest of her life here in Briartown but now that everyone is awake she feels that same anxiety she feels in every other town. "I don't think I will, there is nothing here for me."

Still locked onto her gaze, he can feel his heart begin to pound, his mouth grow dry. It is an odd feeling for him; he is always very comfortable around women, especially since it is usually they who are seeking him out. Yet there is something about her, a certain mystique that draws him in and makes him want to simply be near her. "Sure there is," he says softly. When she raises her brow, waiting for him to continue, he gets nervous and abandons his previous train of thought, "with the reward money you could perhaps run a different kind of orphanage, or help out the poor folk."

She cracks a dry smile; something about it tells him that it is fake, "Now that's an idea."

...

There is something cold on Thorne's neck; he can feel it even in his sleep. It isn't enough to wake him but the deep, harsh voice that penetrates into his dreams is.

"Wake up you scoundrel!"

Thorne opens his eyes. The room is slow to come into focus; he sees a guard standing over him, sword at his throat. It is one of the guards that tried to stop them outside of the castle.

The man grins, "I've got you now. Oh, Milton is going to have a heyday with your ass once he gets you back into your cell!"

Thorne's heart pounds. He tries to open up his mouth to say something, anything but nothing comes out.

"Now where is that whore of yours?" He questions, pressing the sword a little further into Thorne's throat.

Thorne doesn't know what to say or do. As the sword gets pushed hard enough into his throat to draw blood, he tries to stammer out something but it doesn't make sense. The guard laughs deeply, his unshaven thick face shadowed by the early morning light. Instantly, his face goes blank and his laughing stops. He inhales sharply, quickly like he is panting but can't get any air. His sword falls to the ground; Thorne quickly sits up in bed, pushing himself as far away from the guard as he can. Soon the man's knees buckle and he falls down onto them, before crashing forward on his face. A knife sticks out of his back.

Just behind him stands Alecta, face calm but slightly sickly looking.

"Time to go," she says quietly.

Thorne looks at the guard, then back to her. She has changed her appearance slightly again but this time it is for the better. Her hair drapes over her shoulders in perfect curls, half of it pulled back. In a beautiful purple silk dress and matching jewelry, the small amount of rouge on her cheeks and lips make her appear delicate and dainty as if she truly was an upper class lady. Not a thief that just killed a man.

Quickly Thorne scrambles off the other side of the bed, getting dressed with haste while Alecta cautiously peeks out of the curtained window.

"I thought killing wasn't your style," he says shakily, eyeing the motionless body on the floor next to his bed.

She turns back to him as he begins to pull his boots on, "It isn't but the man left me no choice. I heard him talking outback this morning that they would kill the escaped convict if he found him."

Thorne stands before her in his simple clothes, finding it ironic that their roles appear to be physically reversed. She walks to the door, opening it just wide enough to peek out of. She shuts it again and pulls on a thick, black wool cloak to cover her whole body, "I am going to leave now. I want you to count to ten, slowly, then you will leave too. Basil is in the booth at the bottom of the stair way; you are to calmly walk out of this room, down the stairs, then sit next to him. Whatever he says, you do—do you understand?"

Thorne nods swiftly, "Where will you be?"

She draws up her hood, offering him a gentle smile, "I am going to secure us an invitation to the engagement party." Without another word, she leaves the room.

Thorin rushes to the door and tries to count to ten as slowly as possible but the dead man in the room quickens his pace. He takes a deep breath and opens the door, making sure to shut it behind him as he walks down the hallway to the stairs. He takes the set on the left to the main part of the Inn and slides into the booth next to Basil just in time to see the last glimpse of Alecta's dark cloak disappear out the door.

"Would you like some breakfast, chap?" Basil says cheerfully.

Thorne looks at him, face pale and frightened, "No, thank you."

"Suit yourself man."

"Where is she going?" He asks quietly.

Basil looks at him, contemplating, "Would you like to see a show?" He hands him a green cloak before sliding out of the booth and pulling a brown one on. Thorne does the same and follows Basil out of the back door. They creep down the alley by the stable and crouch behind some crates so that they can see the main road that intersects the town square.

Alecta sits on the edge of the fountain; her cloak is still on but her hood is down. From the opposite direction, he spots the guard from the prison desk, Milton as he was called, the one that she gave the cake too. Alecta rises to her feet and walks in his direction, though she looks as if she is just strolling down the street. The guard takes a quick glance at her while he is talking to his companion; when he turns back for a second look, Alecta flashes him a smile and a wink.

Instantly the guard recognizes her, "You there! You're under arrest!" He shouts frantically.

Alecta plays her part well, as if she is completely in shock as the guard storms towards her, "Me? I don't understand. Obviously you've made a mistake!"

He roughly grabs her arm; Alecta squeals in pain. The other guards come running up to him, "Milton—this can't be the lady, are you sure?" Their faces betray the shock they have at him treating her so roughly.

"I'm sure, this is the whore," he says sharply.

Alecta gasps, face turning red, "Unhand me right now you barbarian! I demand to speak to your commanding officer! You will pay for your actions!"

The other guards begin to get nervous; one of them forces Milton to let Alecta go, "Milton, you've made a mistake, this isn't her."

"It is her!" He shrieks.

The other guards look at each other; one of them approaches Alecta, "I'm sorry, miss but you will have to come back to the castle with us so we can get it straightened out."

Her face gets angry, "I cannot believe this! I demand that you take me directly to the King so that I can get this straightened out!"

The men all look at one another again, until one of them sheepishly nods and leads the way, the other two walking behind her as if she is a prisoner that they will not touch.

"Why would she do that! They're going to throw her into prison!" Thorne whispers to Basil.

"No," he shakes his head, "They're too scared to throw her in prison. They'll take her to their commanding officer and she will raise holy hell until they grant her an audience with the King. All a part of the plan. Now come, we must get you ready for your part and we don't have much time!"

He slinks back down the alley way and through the back door of the Inn. As he climbs the stairs up to their suite, Thorne starts to panic.

"Basil—we shouldn't go in there. A guard came in earlier, and Alecta ki—" he gets cut off when Basil opens the door. Thorne looks around; the only other body in the room is that of Jasper's and he is alive.

"Morning," Jasper says, laying out a set of clothes on the bed.

"I, I don't understand, she..." Thorne enters the room, staring at the spot where the dead guard's body was. He looks up at Basil.

He shrugs and offers a wink, "Hurry up now, we need to get the rest of that hair trimmed. And today your beard is gone."

Shocked, Thorne sits down without any objections.

...

Just as she planned, the guards drag her to the castle and present her to their commanding officer. Despite Milton's adamant plea, the officer takes one look at her and shakes his head no.

"Take her to the King," he says, washing his hands of the situation.

Keeping the entitled irritation on her face this long takes some effort. On the way to the castle she started ranting again and Milton placed a pair of shackles on her—it was enough to shut her up but for her it only added fuel to her imaginary fire. She follows the guards up the stairs from their quarters to the throne room where she is forced to stand before the empty chairs and wait for the King to arrive.

Alecta clenches her jaws, tightening her fists and pulling them apart so that the shackles press roughly against her skin as she has done since they put them on. They will leave pretty hefty bruises, which she is counting on. Finally the King enters, followed by the Queen. She gives them a quick look over before they know that she is watching them. It is easy to see the resemblance between them and their son; Thorne has the same body structure as his father, tall and slender yet muscular with a masculine square shaped jaw but he gets his black hair and bright green eyes from his mother. As they sit upon their thrones, Alecta makes it a point to courtesy awkwardly, emphasizing the shackles around her wrists.

"Commander, are these shackles really necessary?" The Queen addresses Milton's commanding officer, who snuck into the back of the room to hear the outcome.

"Believe you me, your majesty, this woman is a trickster and a dangerous one, why she—" Milton starts but gets cut off by his superior.

"No, your highness, they aren't," he says sharply, addressing Milton more than anyone, for his rudeness. The officer walks to Alecta and unbolts the shackles. His jaw clenches when he sees that the bright red circles around her wrists have begun to turn purple. As he steps away, Alecta tenderly rubs her wrists.

"Now, guard, tell me why you have interrupted our wedding planning session for this lovely lady," the King says, eyes looking over Alecta, though she politely keeps her eyes at his feet.

"As I was saying, your majesty, last night there was a woman who came into the prison—this woman, here—she offered me a piece of cake that was laced with something. I blacked out instantly and when I woke up, all of the prisoners were gone and the entire castle was in a state of chaos," Milton says accusingly to Alecta.

"This woman, here?" The King says, unconvinced, "And what say you, Miss?"

Alecta raises her eyes up to the King, "It is an utter, ridiculous accusation, your Majesty. It appears that this guard has me mistaken for some, some common criminal!" She lets her voice squeak a little in frustration, "I just arrived last night from Haven. I had heard that the town had indeed been awakened and I was excited to attend the wedding of the century. I was walking down the street this morning in search of some fine cuisine when this, this guard started yelling at me. He told me I was under arrest, never told me why and then of all things he called me a—" she pauses, letting the word get stuck in her mouth; she clears her throat and leans forward, and with a hushed whisper she says, "a whore!" She spins around on her heels and faces Milton, "Frankly I cannot believe that this is how Briartown treats its guests and once this whole debacle has been laid to rest I will leave here and never return. If this man is any example of the people you cultivate in this town, well then," she turns back around to the King, "it is no wonder this place was cursed."

The King, shocked at the anger in the woman's voice, opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by Milton, "You are the whore who broke that crazy man out of prison last night! I can prove it too!"

Alecta puts on her best stunned face, eyes wide. She can see the King rising out of his throne so she keeps her mouth shut.

"Enough! Commander, you will remind your guard that we are in the presence of the Queen and another lady and he is to watch his language and his tongue!" He roars.

The Commander looks at Milton and shakes his head, muttering something to him that no one else can hear. After a moment, the King continues, "You claim that you can prove it, how?" He demands.

From the periphery of her vision, Alecta sees a guard bring Basil and another man into the back of the room. She doesn't dare turn around but keeps her head down.

Milton, whose nerve has completely abandoned him, speaks very softly, choosing his words carefully, "The woman from last night had a, ah, a mole on her...on her bosom, Sir."

Everyone grows quiet, eyes set on Alecta. She looks to her side and then up to the King and Queen; upon discovering everyone staring at her she raises her voice, "I have never been thus treated in my entire life!" She shrieks.

The Queen rises from her throne, speaking softly, "Come here, miss, let us put an end to this silly accusation."

Face bright red and furious, Alecta grasps her skirt with her hands and walks toward the Queen. They retreat behind the cover of the throne and reluctantly Alecta pulls down the top of her gown to expose a vast amount of cleavage. There is no mole to be found, because the one Milton saw the night before was a fake.

As they appear from behind the throne, the Queen gives a short shake of her head to the King. Alecta walks back to her place, angry look on her face. The King addresses her directly, "What is your name, Miss?"

She leaves the anger in her voice when she speaks, looking directly at the King "I am Countess Alexandria Remington of Reddington," she turns around as she continues and motions towards Basil by the door, "This is my dearest friend, Count William Montage of Northhill, and my cousin," she says, finally setting eyes on Thorne, though she hardly recognizes him. His long hair has been trimmed shorter, though long enough still that he can tuck it behind his ears. With his beard gone he appears a lot younger, finally looking like a man of his late twenties instead of a man in his forties. Though he was a good looking man before, he is now deadly handsome. Alecta seamlessly continues her sentence, though it takes a lot of effort for her to hide her shock, "my cousin, Baron Thorne Remington of Reddington."