Desmond, 10416 P.C.

The aircraft shuddered beneath them as it rose into the air, and Stephanie couldn't help the nauseated terror that came over her. The inside of the aircraft was small — the front, where the pilot sat, was a whole other little room in itself, and in the back, the walls were lined with seats. The soldiers holding her had pushed her into one of the seats and buckled her in, clearly not caring about the fact that her hands were bound behind her. It was uncomfortable. She was glad that Annabella was shoved into the seat beside her, and that Andre and Adrianna were across from them just feet away. At least she wasn't alone.

It would have been horrible to have been left alone with Astrid.

"So, Stephanie, how's the rogue life going for you?" The girl didn't seem to care how the aircraft shuddered as it flew. She walked over from the pilot's cabin and crouched down in front of Stephanie's chair to look her in the eyes. "Nothing to say about it?"

Stephanie glared at her, but one of the other soldiers spoke up. "She's gagged, Astrid, she can't talk."

If Astrid's eyes had rolled any harder they would have popped out of her head and rolled right out of the exit hatch. "Yes, Barrack, I can see that."

"Then why—?"

"I'm mocking her, you idiot!"

Stephanie rolled her own eyes, making sure Astrid saw. The girl narrowed her gaze at Stephanie, leaning in closer. "You've got something to say about it, don't you, you traitorous little waif? Why don't you tell your Princess how you let your own comrade get shot and left her to die? She should know about your traitorous tendencies."

Stephanie wasn't afraid of this girl — the world had greater monsters. She held Astrid's gaze boldly in a silent challenge.

Astrid never could back down from a challenge. Without a word, she flicked out a small dagger and pressed the flat side of the blade against Stephanie's cheek. Stephanie stayed perfectly still, her heart racing as Astrid sliced the cloth that gagged her. It fell free.

"Well?" Astrid demanded.

Stephanie hated this girl. She hated her with every fibre of her being. "It's a shame she didn't aim higher." Lifting her foot, she planted it squarely on the girl's chest and shoved her off balance. Astrid fell back, sputtering out a string of curses as she landed at Adrianna's feet. She scrambled back up, gripping her dagger and looking quite ready to plunge it into Stephanie's chest, but two of the other soldiers held her back, pulling her away from Stephanie. Stephanie watched silently, unable to hide the smirk that pulled at her lips. Astrid wasn't allowed to hurt her. She had quite literally asked for that one.

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Annabella was watching her. Had Stephanie told her that she had left Astrid behind? She must have mentioned it in her story, but she might not have made a point about it. She briefly wondered what Annabella thought of it, but the older girl was unreadable.

It took them around an hour and a half to reach Zusia. Stephanie vividly remembered leaving this city with her unit, knowing it'd be the last time — hoping it'd be the last time. Had that only just been a month and a half ago? It felt like a lifetime had passed, and now she was back, being marched up the stairs to the palace itself, a prisoner and a fugitive.

The sun was setting as they made it to the top of the stairs. She glanced to the horizon, to the blazing colours that stretched across the sky. A strong, firm burst of purple stood out brightly, as if the picture had been designed specifically for her.

What a perfect last sunset to witness.

The palace doors opened, and they were pushed inside. The sunset was gone, and Stephanie found herself face to face with someone she thought she'd never see again.

"Escort the king and queen to the dungeon," Yasmin ordered the soldiers. "Motch will entertain their presence later." He stood tall, his hands clasped behind his back, wearing an outfit surprisingly similar to the soldiers. Stephanie gaped at him, her heart pounding as Andre and Adrianna were pulled away from them. What had happened? He had been a trainer, not... not anyone with immense authority. The man standing before her looked important. Yasmin had changed.

"Remove her gag," he ordered the soldier holding Annabella. "She'll have much to say for her treason, I'm sure."

Annabella glared silent daggers at him as her gag was removed. She said nothing.

"Bring them." Yasmin turned and started a brisk walk toward the throne room door. Stephanie barely recognized him. Her heart twisted. She had used to read him so easily; the warmth and heart beneath his cold exterior had been so obvious to her. Now, though, he was as cold as stone through and through.

They approached the throne room terribly fast. Stephanie could feel the heat of terror in her cheeks. Fear made her lightheaded and unsteady. The knot in her chest made it hard to breathe. The tension was unbearable.

As they waited at the door for Yasmin to announce their entrance, Stephanie looked at Annabella. In the dim light of the hall, she bore the radiance of darkness and malice. It dawned on Stephanie that this would be the first time Annabella and Motch would see face to face since Alexander's death. The trepidation was there, ever so slightly, but Annabella maintained a mask of resolute determination. A fire burned in her eyes, one that Stephanie had never seen before. She looked deadly. Strong. Sure of herself, even in the face of inevitable death.

"Annabella," Stephanie breathed, suddenly feeling so small, so helpless. "What do we do?"

To her surprise, Annabella had heard her. Looking down at Stephanie with a calm gaze of a battle-worn veteran, she whispered, "Trust the Immortal One, and don't die."

Strong words. Wise words. Stephanie clung to them, burying them down within her heart as the throne room doors swung open and they were escorted into the presence of the king of Desmond.