{TITLE} Pt. 5

Part Five.

                From then on Rylan delivered her meals to her. They were still not the freshest foods mixed up in her bowl and the biscuit was still as hard as a rock. Not to mention the occasional milk was still thick and off-white while the water was still opaque in the glass. It was something, anyway. For the first few days that the prince came in, he fed her from the plastic bowl—that is, he force-fed her. Keela hated the prince with such rage and fire that she was willing—as usual—to risk her own life just to spite him. Yet every time she refused to open her mouth, Rylan would plug her nose until she did and then shove the revolting mush down her throat. It soon became exhausting for Keela and within a week she simply gave Rylan a death glare while she willingly let him feed her.

         Silence was always kept between the two during her single, daily meal and that's just the way Keela wanted it. But, of course, after a week or so, the prince had to spoil her happiness.

         He set down the plastic bowl once it was empty and said, “So tell me, what do your mother and father think about it?”

         Keela swallowed the last spoonful of mush before asking, “Think about what?”

         “About you being a traitor. I can tell you're a native born Kingdomer because you don't have an accent from the eastern hemisphere. You wouldn't be considered a traitor if you were from the Nation, you'd just be a Crad.”

         Keela looked away from him, staring at the sunlight that illuminated the dust floating in the dry air. She didn't say anything to him, wishing to have no part in this conversation.

         “So,” Rylan pushed on, “tell me: what do your parents—”

         “They have no particular interest in my treacherous affairs,” she stated sharply, still refusing to look at him.

         “What do you mean?” he asked.

         “My parents are dead,” she said plainly, no tone of sadness in her voice.

         A small silence was held in the room.

         “I'm sorry,” Rylan said softly and simply.

         After another quiet moment she turned to him and asked, “Why?”

         Rylan looked at her, slightly confused.

         “Why should you be sorry that my parents are dead? You never knew them, or what they were like. Why the hell would it matter to you?” she said in an unfeeling tone.

         Rylan was rather taken aback. “I'm just...giving my sympathies,” he said.

         “And there you go again,” she said through a laugh. “Always such a good-hearted person, with actual morals,” she mocked. “If you're trying to prove that you're not your father's son it won't work. I've been around your kind all my life and believe me I fool them much more often then they do, me.”

         “And there you go again,” Rylan retorted, fed up with her by now. “You constantly group 'my kind' and say that everyone is evil and empty of heart. But you don't know anything about them—”

         “I know what they did to me and that is all I need!” she shouted.

         Keela looked away from him and back to the spot where the gold rays should have been shining through the window. Yet the clouds appeared to have rolled in and covered the sun, leaving the room in a dark, glum shadow. She instantly regretted her outburst, but at least it got the prince to shut up.

         He sat there silently and Keela could feel his gaze burning into her, but she did not return his stare.

         “What do you mean 'they did to you'?” he asked.

         She refused to speak, having already said too much.

         “Are you going to say anything?”

         The silence continued.

         “Why don't you ever talk to me?” Rylan asked, annoyed. “All I do is try to help you, but you refuse it and continue to spite me. When I ask you a question, you never answer. You don't even look me in the eye when I talk to you. Now all I want to know is why?”

         “Because, Rylan,” she said loudly, “I hate you.” After a slight pause she turned to him spoke again, this time in a deadly whisper, “Every drop of blood in my veins flows only to despise you and my entire being lives only to spite you. I refuse your help and ignore what you say simply because I hate you and want nothing to do with you.”

         Keela knew it was harsh but she didn't care; it was the truth.

         For a moment, Rylan was still. He looked at her and she looked at the floor. It was a while before the stinging silence was broken when Rylan moved from his sitting position to lean against the wall opposite Keela.

         “All right,” he said softly. “If you won't talk to me, I'll talk to you.”

         Now Keela looked at him, both slightly stunned and annoyed. Rylan, however, looked very pleased with himself.          

         “I was actually born in the far Northern Kingdom,” he started. “My father thought it would be safer for the family for a while. Then when I was two, Audivae was born.”

         Keela rolled her eyes and sighed; this would be a long day.

         Rylan continued talking for nearly an hour, though of course Keela had completely lost interest within the first 30 seconds. She even closed her eyes and pretended to sleep in hopes that he would stop talking and leave. Yet no matter how loud she snored, his mouth never stopped moving and his words never ceased their ringing in her ears. Eventually she gave up the charade and stared at the floor while the prince kept talking.

         “And then, as you know, I was sent to Montreal when I was fourteen. After four years of medical work I had succeeded in my classes and here I am.”

         Suddenly Keela perked up; she had just listened—sort of—to Rylan's entire life story and he clearly left out one rather important detail. She looked at him now and asked, “What about your mother?”

         Rylan met her gaze, apparently not having heard what she said. “Hmm?” he hummed.

         “Your mom,” she repeated. “You never mentioned her.”

         Now Rylan looked away and shifted uncomfortably—it seemed he too had a secret about his past. Yet after a moment a sly smile spread across his face.

         “I'll tell you about my mom if you tell me what the Kingdom 'did to you',” he said, mimicking quotation marks in the air on the last few words.

         Keela glared at him and thought it over.

         “Will you leave afterward?” she asked; if she was going to talk about her past—or lie about it, anyway—she should get something out of it.

         Rylan shrugged. “Sure.”

         Keela held a smirk in her eyes as she shifted in her place while trying to come up with a good lie. After a moment she spoke, “I never really knew my parents. Both of them worked for the government so they weren't around me much. They got along with each other well enough but they never seemed to like me. When I was five they went to work and never came home.”

         Rylan showed no particular expression and was completely silent.

         She continued, “I was then put into different foster home across the Kingdom. Every family I was forced to live with was associated directly with your father in some way and none of them enjoyed my presence. They hated me because I disagreed with them on everything, especially the war. I soon came to discover my hatred for the Kingdom and all who supported it. From then on I gathered information from each house about the Kingdom, anything I could find would be of use to me. I contacted the Nation, though I will not say how, and set up meetings with various Crads. I only moved to a different house when my foster parents were arrested for espionage; they unknowingly took the fall for all the crimes I had done.”

         Now the prince looked rather surprised at her cold-heartedness. Keela smiled inside, knowing he was buying it.

         “This went on for years and no one knew it was me,” she said softly, a grin playing upon her face. Then after a moment she changed her expression and sighed. “But then my damn foster mom found me looking through her desk. I tried to lie my way out of it but she wasn't stupid. Considering the fate of my previous foster families, once she caught me in the act, she put everything together. She had me arrested and here I am.”

         Rylan was silent for a moment once Keela had finished her story and he seemed to be taking it in. “That explains why you're here,” he said after a while, “but it doesn't really tell me what the Kingdom did to you.”

         Keela sat in silent rage for a moment before bursting with anger. “They made my life a living hell! The Kingdom drew my parents away from me and the Kingdom supplied me with stupid, empty-hearted, selfish families! I was ripped to pieces because of it!” She paused for dramatic effect, breathing heavily from her anguish. “Then I was given the opportunity to get back at them and I took it,” she said softly.

         He looked at her, a mixed expression of sudden understanding and sympathy in his eyes.

         What a performance, she thought to herself. Keela kept her angry, tortured-soul face on, but inside she was giggling with spiteful glee.

         A string of silent moments followed her words in which Keela calmed down from her story. She leaned up against the side wall while Rylan let her tale sink in. When the long pause had gone on long enough, Keela took a deep breath and looked into Rylan's eyes.

         “All right,” she said quietly. “Your turn.”

         Rylan didn't hesitate. “My mother died in childbirth when Audivae was born.”

         There was no sadness in his voice, no sound of tears being choked back and he said it as though he didn't care. Keela knew that Kingdomers were unfeeling but the prince was somehow different; she knew better than to believe him.

         “I don't buy it,” she said.

         Rylan looked at her, slightly confused. He actually wasn't that bad at lying, it's just that Keela was better—you can't lie to a good liar.

         “You care so deeply that my parents are dead, but you have no sympathy for your own mother?” she said skeptically. “I'm not falling for it.”

         “You didn't sound so sad about your parents,” he pointed out.

         “That's because they hated me and the feeling was mutual,” she said, only delving deeper into her lie. “What really happened to your mother?”

         Rylan said nothing at first, he merely stared into Keela's copper eyes. She returned a gaze of her own, looking into the pools of sky set in his pale face.

         He sighed. “I don't know. When we came back to the palace after Audivae was two, my mother didn't come with us. She and I were really close, but for the last couple days I saw her she seemed so distant and pushed me away.” Now he sounded sad and his bright blue eyes were glistening; Keela believed him. “My father told me,” he continued, his voice straining a little, “that she wasn't herself after Audivae was born—postpartum depression—and that she just wasn't happy anymore.” Keela thought she saw a tear slip down his cheek, but with the sun covered by clouds and day slowly turning into night, it was difficult to tell.

         He didn't say anything after that as Keela pondered what he said; either she killed herself and he just didn't want to admit it, or he really wasn't sure about what happened. Still, whatever did happen to his mother it didn't matter to Keela much.

         Keela sat up so she wasn't leaning against the wall and said, “Okay. Leave.”

         Rylan looked at her but made no motion.

         “You said that if I told you about my parents then you would leave,” she said.

         Sad eyes met her gaze. He got up and headed towards the heavy metal door as Keela smiled—finally some solitude. Yet as Rylan reached the door, he stopped.

         “You know,” he said, “I should probably take a look at that burn of yours. It's been over two weeks and the bandage is probably falling off by now.”

         He approached her and knelt in front of where Keela sat, stubborn as a mule. She looked at him with piercing eyes that told him she only wanted him gone. Rylan easily read her expression and returned his own glare. She could almost hear his thoughts and decided that she really wasn't up for a struggle today, so she turned her back to the prince. He carefully unbuttoned the back of Keela's shirt as her scars tingled and a flame of anger sparked in the pit of her stomach. A cooling feeling graced the callused, wounded skin on her back as it was exposed to the brisk cell air.

         “Hmm,” he said to himself. “It still has some stick to it.”

         A ripping noise was heard behind her and she felt a sharp sting on her back followed by the skin throbbing. Rylan crumpled up the bandage and tossed it aside as he examined her old burn.

         “It looks okay now,” he said as Keela crinkled her nose from the pain on her back and from the nuisance that now sat behind her. “Seems to have healed well and I don't think you'll need another bandage.”

         “Peachy,” Keela said through gritted teeth. “Now leave.” she shrugged his hand off her back and stood up to walk across the room. As she attempted to button her shirt again, she glanced at Rylan. He was sitting in the same spot, not moving a single muscle; he seemed to be thinking.

         Fully annoyed by now, Keela sighed and asked,”What are you doing now?”

         Rylan looked up. “Just thinking...if your parents worked for the government and they left you, then when you were put in the care of social services, wouldn't they be able to find them though our archive of workers?”

         Keela said nothing, having nothing more to say.

         Rylan shrugged lightly, picked up the old bandage, and stood up to head for the door. Keela watched him leave, the flame in her stomach slowly dying from shock—he had caught her in a lie. No one had been able to do that before.

         “Maybe tomorrow,” he said as he opened the door, “you'll be more willing to tell the truth.”

         She stared at him, the fire igniting again, and he returned her gaze. He then shut the door and left Keela standing in the gloomy room in a stunned silence.