Nightmares

Nightmares
Soldiers had been dispersed all over Ghysem and the south which has now become a part of Ghysem. They had sent word to other neighboring packs in the West and East so there was no place for Lady Asher to hide. 

Each day was spent in anguish and constant nightmares for Cyrus. He kept seeing himself hanging from the ceiling with a black veil on his wrist. Other times, he would see Agnes; her face contorted in pain as she swung from the ceiling, a black veil tied around her wrist and anytime he cut the rope, trying to save her it would be too late.

He would end up bringing down a lifeless body.

Then he would wake up, covered in sweat and panting heavily like he was fighting a physical war. Tonight was one of those nights Cyrus was drenched in his sweat. His breathing was ragged and then his hands shaky with fear. He felt around the bedside table for a lantern and a match, then struck it to flame the lantern. 

He sat up properly this time and looked towards where Agnes lay, to be sure she was fine. 

Her eyes were wide open, and she stared at the ceiling lifelessly. After a few minutes, she turned to look at him and then smiled, squeezing his hands. "Anything the matter."

"Nothing at all," he said but his voice betrayed the fear that he felt. "Why are you awake? It is very late, you should be asleep."

"For the same reason you are awake," she gave a wry smile. 

"I woke up to check on you," Cyrus lied. 

"No you did not," she chuckled. "But if you say so, then I am awake to check on you as well."

Taking in a deep breath, he decided to confess. "I keep having nightmares... Of Lady Asher."

Agnes sat up properly and turned to face him directly. 

"She plagues me, Agnes. I see her everywhere, in my dreams, and I can't look at anything black or the darkness without seeing her face. I feel as though she is lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right time to get me," he sighed. "I've never been afraid of death, or of looking at people dying. But I see Lord Xeik of the south. I remember the last moments before I killed him, how his face was contorted in pain and agony... The rope was cutting into his neck and Lady Asher looked so happy. Too happy to be true before she ran out. My spirit won't rest until she is found and I know she is gone for good."

He paused to take a breath. "And the moon goddess knows I do not want her gone... She was a mother to me."

"Cyrus," Agnes murmured, her voice like the evening breeze. She caressed his face gently and leaned in, planting a brief kiss on his lips. "Rest assured, she would be found. You do not have to kill her, no one will fault you. You can banish her or imprison her until she dies."

Cyrus only sighed and pulled her in closer, then rubbed her back and kissed her again. "And you? What keeps you up?"

"Is that important?" She asked, kissing him again. 

"Of course it is."

"Well I worry about my siblings," Agnes sighed. "Gerard is angry at Gertrude for not telling him he had been brainwashed. And he is angrier he does not remember the other things. And I worry about Gertrude because she remembers everything. Her pain... It will overwhelm her. I know she knows how mother died, and it kills me."

"Gertrude is a strong young lady, she takes after you," Cyrus said. "And you are here for both of them. They will be fine my love."

++++

The grand hall of the palace buzzed with anticipation as Altid led a defiant Lady Asher into the council chambers. Her eyes, cold and unyielding, scanned the room, taking in the faces of the lords and soldiers. She held her head high, refusing to show any sign of fear or remorse.

Cyrus sat at the head of the council table, his expression a mix of confusion and sorrow. Lady Asher had been like a mother to him, guiding him through the complexities of court life, and teaching him the nuances of leadership. The betrayal cut deep, and he struggled to reconcile the woman he knew with the traitor standing before him. This very classy and regal woman was actually a criminal and not just any criminal, she was a murderer. She had taken countless lives without remorse.

He often wondered if she had ever thought of taking his own life. 

"Why did you do this, Lady Asher?" Cyrus's voice was laced with pain. He fought the tears that were sitting at the corners of his eyes. "You were like a mother to me. How could you betray us?"

Lady Asher's lips curled into a faint smile. "My dear boy, you have no idea the complexities of the world we live in."

Cyrus's mind raced back to his childhood. His parents had been distant, focused on his older brothers, who were groomed for leadership. It was his grandmother and Lady Asher, her best friend, who had truly cared for him. After his grandmother's death, Lady Asher had taken him under her wing, teaching him everything he needed to know to become a king because she saw it coming. She knew that his brothers would not be chosen as king. She had also predicted the war.

"You raised me," Cyrus said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You taught me everything I know. How could you be the mastermind behind all this chaos?"

Lady Asher's eyes softened, but only for a moment. "Would you like to hear a story, Cyrus? Perhaps it will shed some light on my actions."

The room fell silent, and all eyes were on Lady Asher. She took a deep breath and began her tale, her voice steady and filled with an eerie calm.