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Nyx - The Shadow Princess
A1:C13 - An Untimely Coincidence::Part One

A1:C13 - An Untimely Coincidence::Part One

As the open top carriage passed through the cobblestone streets, Harold continued to stare at Nyx with a sad, conflicted expression.

It was so intense that without needing to even look in Harold's direction, Nyx could sense it.

Moving her gaze away from the sporadic crowds, sideroads, rooftops, or anywhere that could conceal a potential threat, Nyx focused on Harold in a somewhat annoyed manner.

While she didn't see him as her brother in the slightest, she would have to be blind, deaf and dumb not to see the familial love he had for her and so had decided that she would at least go through the throes and acknowledge his existence.

It was mainly because when he visited, the young prince was always trying to attract her attention in one way or another, showing off to the point where he often made a fool of himself.

It was this behaviour that had somewhat warmed his presence to Nyx. While it wasn't to the point of friendship, Nyx almost felt that she would feel pain, similar to Nalia, if he were to hurt or betray her.

Harold reminded Nyx somewhat of her own younger brother before he turned into a teenager, back in her first life and so, unintentionally, she had let Harold get closer to her.

"Is it that you can't talk, or you won't talk?" Nyx's question cut straight to the heart of her reservations about Harold. While he seemed like he would do anything for his sister, it was evident that he wasn't telling her everything.

A sad expression, as if Nyx had asked him to murder a puppy, appeared on Harold's face.

However, against her expectations, Harold actually answered her. "Its that I can't talk Sis. At least for now. As soon as I can, I will tell you everything. At that time I will let you exact whatever justice or vengeance you feel I deserve. No matter what it is."

The unexpected sincerity of Harold's words hit Nyx hard, causing her to frown slightly. However, the ice that surrounded her heart didn't even shudder, and within a moment, she had discarded the intent behind the young prince's words. "Your actions in the future will speak louder than words ever could."

Seeing the forlorn look on Harold's face at her response, Nyx felt somewhat guilty, causing her to sigh deeply before continuing. "I have high expectations of you. Please do not disappoint me... brother."

While the words sounded awkward even in Nyx's ears, Harold immediately cheered up and revealed smile from the depths of his heart. Since he was little, he had always been chasing his big sister's shadow and, for the first time, it seemed that not only had she acknowledged him, but held expectations for what he would become.

The carriage fell back into silence, however, unlike before, it was comfortable.

"Sister?" After ten minutes of past, Harold was unable to stop himself from asking the question that had bothered him since Nyx's awakening. "Why do you prefer to be alone?"

Harold had observed his sister since she had awoken from her coma and noticed that the only time she seemed content, was when she was left to her own devices.

While he thought this natural at the start, after a while he didn't feel that it was escapism or the like. Instead, it felt like Nyx belonged to a different plane of existence.

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One where the happenings of the mortal world were nothing more than passing light. Maybe holding a momentary interest but quickly forgotten to the lonely, somewhat desolate woman.

The feeling had grown to such an extent that often when he looked at her, that he couldn't help but associate her, if one didn't pay notice to the many scars, or they were covered, to a goddess or one of the many saints he had heard about.

Nothing seemed to hold any significance to her. Nor did the words other others hold any sway causing Harold to feel a mixture of respect and fear towards his sister. I was like she wasn't even human.

Nyx frowned, once again removing her gaze from the surroundings. Harold's question lightly annoyed her as she was trying to think of a way of getting out of going to the grand council while adhering to Granny's rules.

While she held no loyalty to the old woman, Nyx had decided that she was the best protection Nyx could get at the moment and wasn't willing to gamble it on a half chance.

Instead, Nyx wanted to identify a way to achieve her objectives while abiding by the rules set. An ability she had practised considerably in her previous incarnations, bending her master's orders to suit her own personality and desires.

"Solitude is enjoyed only when one is at peace with oneself. For that, not only must you know yourself completely, but you must love and cherish who and what you are," responded Nyx vaguely, trying to say something that might keep Harold thinking for a while.

However, even as she was trying to distract Harold to let her think, Nyx hadn't lied. Those were her true thoughts. Ones that she had accepted long ago.

Harold frowned, not expecting such a philosophical answer from his sister. "And what does that mean exactly?"

Nyx was slowly tapping her foot on the floor, still in time with the mysterious beat. Her mind distracted as she cast out another vague, seemingly complicated answer. "A teacher can only open the door, it's the student that must walk through it. I have told you how I feel, but that is only my interpretation of the poorly worded question. If you want an answer that you can understand, you can only rely on your own context and experience as, no matter what I say, you still will not understand if you don't have the mindset."

Harold had visited the silent Nyx every day since she had woken up and prayed that she would start speaking. Yet now she was, he wasn't sure if it was a blessing or not. His sister seemed like an old man who was trying to dodge the question with philosophical ramblings.

However, Nyx's mind had already moved on from the conversation.

She knew that trying to escape, even with the absence of the old woman, was impossible. She was just too weak compared to the average guards, let alone the royal soldiers, that surrounded her.

With this thought, Nyx also eliminated, even without Granny's rule of not killing anyone, the possibility of using force.

Nyx's tapping foot was joined by the strumming of her fingers, creating an eerie melody that only Harold could hear over the noise of the carriage.

Nyx knew she had no allies and even the few acquaintances, Nalia, Harold, Gerald, Harold's warrior servant, and Granny, were quickly eliminated. They all had conflicting or unknown goals, making them too unreliable for Nyx's tastes.

The mode of transport was not only reliable but easy to replace if it were to break down. The lighting conditions, although gloomy, were not enough for her to fully utilise her abilities and it seemed that her body's title and position were null and void against the troops of the council.

Nyx couldn't help but take a deep, calming breath. In essence, from whatever angle she looked at it, she was trapped.

Watching the crowd, which seemed to be growing as they got closer to their destination, Nyx, who loved obscurity and darkness, felt disgusted on how she has publicly paraded around for the benefit of another.

Suddenly, as if hit by a bolt of lightning, an idea struck her.

If her opponents were using the princess's image to push their agenda's with the public, why couldn't she?

The cold smile once again appeared on Nyx's lips as she started to increase the blood pressure at the alveoli at the top of her left lung.

While Nyx was averse to pain, it wasn't like she wasn't willing to suffer a little bit if it led to a better future. She would just chalk the injury up to whoever had forced her hand and exact the appropriate compensation later after all.

It was almost laughable to Nyx, now that she thought about it, how those in the shadows wanted to put on a performance to further their agendas to the masses using her as a pawn.

"Oh, I'll let you play the fiddle," muttered Nyx as she analysed the buildings along her path, looking for the ideal location to put her plan into action. "But I still won't dance to your tune."