Eleonora stayed silent, not knowing what to say. In truth, there were a lot of things she wanted to say: that it was unfair for the victims to suffer while the culprit walked on flowered carpets laid out for him, that it was unjust for the vendor lady that lost her livelihood just to ease someone's mind, that it was cruel that Albert had to fight for his life, that his mother had to cry for days — if not weeks — just because of someone's greed.
But the words got tangled up in her throat, refusing to leave her lips.
She could feel Prince Callahan's gaze on her — cool and impassive. Was she really willing to push him further? She had already surpassed her limits by confronting him, did she dare to question, or worse, criticize the royal order now? The consequences would be catastrophic. The King — in fact, even the man standing before her — could decide her fate with one word, one gesture.
In the impulsiveness of wishing to help the duchess, she had forgotten what she had realised before. In the hope of preventing an atrocious crime, she had started to think that the prince was an ally.
The duchess was an aunt to the prince. The king was his brother. The duke, his foe. What could she possibly say or do to change anything for these people who sat above the law? What has she been thinking?
'Forgive me, Your Highness, but the duchess refused my help. I regret I couldn't be of much use. Now if Your- His- Your... Highness allows, I would like to take my leave,' she said. Her part was done. She was called upon to help the duchess and she couldn't. She was going to live with that failure, but now, she needed to get away from them. Run while you still can.
Prince Callahan frowned, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. 'We're back to formalities and fake politeness, Apothecary? What happened to your objective altruism?'
Eleonora hated how he was making light of such a grievous situation. 'Your Highness says the duke's above the law. So are you. I do not understand why my assistance was required here, nor do I understand why you had to do everything when the duke cannot be condemned. But the duchess was kind enough to warn me to go away even as she was dying herself. I wish to follow her advice.' She curtsied, deep and respectful, albeit with unpracticed movements.
She didn't wait for him to give her permission. Eleonora turned around and reached for the door handle. She had barely touched it when the prince spoke.
'The duchess isn't the one who's dying. Not tonight.'
She turned around, surprised.
Prince Callahan moved closer. The soft amber glow around the room had barely changed, but Eleonora could swear his black eyes turned even darker. 'And what makes you think any of this was for the duke?'
'Then-'
He stepped closer, eyes fixed on her. Eleonora was very aware of the door blocking her back. 'What else did Isabella tell you?'
'That-' she cleared her throat when her voice sounded shaky. 'That you intend to play with your fate.'
His brow raised in mock surprise. 'And?'
'That it is to end in doom.'
Prince Callahan raised his hand, resting his palm on the door behind her, inches away from her face. 'You see, Apothecary, that is why I need to know who's a friend to me and who's a foe.'
Eleonora would have frowned, would have been puzzled over his cryptic words, if she wasn't so focused on her heart thundering in her chest. Yet, she managed to articulate a few words. 'But you already know the duke is-'
He scoffed, his eyes never leaving her face. For some reason, it felt like he was watching something else, something beyond her face, but when he spoke, it was clearly meant for her. 'There's a hundred different ways to prevent a known crime. A hundred more ways to commit one. You think the duke's worth putting on this show?' He scoffed. 'It was never about him, Apothecary.'
'Then-' Eleonora sucked in a sharp breath as the realization dawned on her. The letter. The drugs. The duchess. The crime. 'Why me?'
'Because you,' he said, 'will have to be one of the two.' A friend or a foe.
Eleonora tried to step back, felt the door, and still pressed her body against the door, trying to be away from the cold callousness she saw on his face. 'Why do I have to be either?' she asked.
Prince Callahan closed his eyes. Just when she had started to wonder if he was avoiding that answer, he opened them. Eleonora let out a soft, barely audible gasp. It wasn't the first time she had witnessed it, but the surprise refused to fade away. His irises had turned back to blue. 'Because,' he said then, a silent resignation in his tone, 'that is one choice we don't get to make.'
Screams erupted from outside the door. The sudden sounds of footfalls on the wooden floor filled the space between the fearful, incomprehensible voices. Prince Callahan stepped back, no urgency in his demeanor, and Eleonora pushed herself away from the door that was shivering with the impact of whatever was happening outside. Her first instinct was to rush outside. It could be a fire, it could be something else. Her heart was already beating her ribs like a hammer, now, it felt like it might break through them.
But, for once, she decided not to act on instinct. She turned to the Prince. 'What have you done?' her voice was barely above a whisper.
Prince Callahan walked ahead and reached for the door, instead. He held it open as the swarm of people — men, women, nobles and inn workers alike — ran towards the main door of The Velvet Pearl. Their bodies pushing against one another, their voices speaking over one another.
Eleonora managed to pick up a few phrases.
The duke.
It's the duke.
The duke is dead.
'You were called upon to save a life, weren't you?' said the prince, then nodded towards the open passageway. 'Time to shine, Apothecary.'