Chapter 2 Expendable. A Desperate Escape

Martha wiped off the blood on her sword, her heart pounding with a mixture of exhaustion and determination. Baby Iris nestled in her arms, unaware of the danger that lurked around them. She gazed down at her precious son, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"My beautiful boy, I promise we will get out of here safely," Martha whispered, her voice filled with fierce resolve. With a deep breath, she looked ahead, her will unyielding, ready to face any obstacle in her path.

Navigating through the labyrinthine streets, Martha had several close calls with patrolling guards. She had to be swift and stealthy, slipping through shadows and evading capture. Finally, she reached a humble house and knocked on the door, following a secret code of knocks.

The door opened, revealing a man who beckoned her inside urgently. "Hurry, come inside," he whispered. "You should hurry, there are guards on patrol checking every house."

"Well then, we better hurry," Martha replied, urgency lacing her words. "Do you have everything I need?"

The man nodded, his eyes filled with concern. "Yes, Martha, come." He retrieved a silver ring with intricate designs. "Everything you asked for is in this ring. It has a space of six hundred square feet."

Martha marveled at the ring, aware that these rings were extremely expensive. She slipped it onto her index finger, her eyes shining with gratitude. "I've only heard of these. I thought they were rare and difficult to come by."

The man smiled warmly. "This one is a gift from someone. I've already put everything you need inside: food, clothes, water, and money. Just put a drop of your blood on it to recognize you as its owner."

Tears welled up in Martha's eyes as she embraced the man tightly. "Thank you so much, uncle. I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. It's not even up to what your father did for me," he replied, his voice filled with emotion.

Martha quickly wiped away her tears, slipping into a black cloak the man provided. "Go now, child," he said, urging her to leave. "Come with me, we could escape together," Martha said while holding his hand, not wanting to leave him behind.

The man shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "No, child, I'll only be a burden. Don't worry about me; they won't suspect anything."

Martha hugged him tightly one last time before stepping out into the night. She took different turns, her heart pounding with each step, knowing that danger lurked around every corner. As she neared the main gates, she heard the call of a guard ordering her to stop. Ignoring the command, she increased her pace, but the guards pursued her relentlessly.

With a stroke of desperation, Martha spotted a soldier on horseback. With her dagger in hand, she aimed carefully and threw it. The blade found its mark, causing the guard to fall from his horse. Martha seized the opportunity, mounting the horse and urging it forward.

Riding with determination, Martha approached the falling gate, her heart pounding in her chest. With a deft move, she dismounted her horse, dagger returning to her hand. She tucked it into her belt and ran towards the gate, holding baby Iris protectively against her chest.

Time seemed to slow as Martha dived forward, rolling underneath the gate as it crashed down behind her. She continued running, never once looking back, solely focused on escaping the clutches of King Steven and his kingdom.

Meanwhile, back in the palace's opulent throne room, King Steven sat upon his throne, a frown etched upon his face.

"So, Eliot, where is Martha and my son? I thought you said you wouldn't fail, that you'd bring them to me," the king's voice dripped with disappointment and anger.

"m-my king, let me explain," Eliot stammered, his voice quivering with fear.

"Go ahead, Eliot, explain to me why you failed such a simple task," the king sneered.

"My king, we did our best, but she was highly skilled. She personally killed four guards under my command. She… she…"

"SILENCE! I KNOW SHE WAS SKILLED; THAT'S WHY I SENT YOU TO APPREHEND HER!" King Steven erupted in a fit of rage.

"But… you were so incompetent that you let her escape," King Steven's voice dripped with disdain.

"The patrol guards have been dispatched throughout the city to find her. Please give me a chance to redeem myself, and I promise it won't happen again," Eliot pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation.

The king let out a cold chuckle, his eyes gleaming with sinister intent. He rose from his throne and approached Eliot, his presence looming over him.

"GIVE ME your sword, Eliot," the king commanded, his voice laced with authority.

Eliot hesitated for a moment, but realizing the futility of defiance, drew his sword and handed it to the king, his head bowed in submission.

"But, my king…" Eliot began to protest, his voice filled with uncertainty.

"GIVE ME THE GODDAMN SWORD, ELIOT!" King Steven's voice thundered through the room, leaving no room for argument.

Reluctantly, Eliot relinquished his sword and handed it over to the king.

"You know, it's going to be difficult to find someone to replace you, Eliot. You were valuable to me, but…" The king's voice trailed off, his grip tightening on the hilt of the sword. "You were also expendable."

Eliot's eyes widened with realization, fear coursing through his veins. Before he could utter a word, the king swung the sword down, severing Eliot's head from his trembling body. The body fell to the floor, a chilling testament to the king's ruthlessness.

King Steven stood there, his face impassive, the silence of the room enveloping him. The echoes of his cruel acts lingered, a reminder of the lengths he would go to maintain his grip on power.