The prince took a seat, leaning over his knees as he tried to stop his head from spinning so terribly, "I'm not sure. My head it just started spinning. I'm unsure as to why, I haven't eaten anything tonight so I cannot be that." He took his mask off, placing it gently beside where he was seated. He made a note to make sure to not forget it if he had to retire early for the night, knowing his father wouldn't approve of such an accident on a gift so beautiful, "Maybe it's just nerves." He doubted it was, but it was the only explanation he had for he suddenly felt so ill.
The mask had escaped Hylas' attention as he placed his half-empty glass of champagne at the base of the seat, making a note to throw his and the prince's glass into into the bushes when they'd leave. "It could be nerves," Hylas softly said as he turned back to the prince, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder as Cas tried to collect himself, "But I'd argue the fact that you haven't eaten anything tonight has something to do with it. The hour is late, after all." A part of him felt good about lying to the prince this way, supposing that at least his last moments would be quiet; calm and hazy, rather than panic-stricken and terrified. "Did you have dinner?"
Cas leaned forward onto his knees, resting his face in his hands with a sigh as he gently shook his head, “No, I didn’t. I was working till late, had some meetings I had to organise and papers that needed signing,” He replied, “I didn’t have time, I haven’t eaten since around midday.” He was probably right, it was just because he hadn’t eaten for a while and now his body was finally reacting. Maybe he should go back in and eat, set a good example. Princes don’t just escape from there own parties.
"Hm, that must be it, then," Hylas said, nodding thoughtfully as he looked down at the prince's weakened state. The night was silent, save for the softened hum of chatter and the muffled sound of music inside. "You really do work too hard, Cas. And it seems like it's taking a toll on you," He added, speaking softly and only half-wishing for the sedative to kick in faster. This was the time Hylas tried to push away his heavy-hearted thoughts towards the prince and what would become of him; working to ignore the slow, creeping guilt that had followed him for days before to the ball. It didn't matter if he wished things were different, because nothing could change what he'd already done and agreed to do. "Take a moment to rest and recover, won't you? Then we'll go inside and get you something," He said, knowing well that Cas wouldn't regain the strength to go back in.
Resting for ten minutes seemed appropriate and Cas was sure no one would mind if he took a moment to collect himself, right? He knew his father might give him slack for 'not doing his duty' or something along those lines but Hylas was right, he needed a moment to rest, "Yes, yes that.. doesn't sound too awful." He could feel a sense of drowsiness settling in, pulling his eyelids down that he forced to stay open. He knew he was tired, but surely he wasn't this tired, right? Taking a nap at a party was certainly not appropriate but he couldn't stop his eyes from gently closing.
Hylas watched as the prince's awareness slowly faltered. "Here we go," He murmured under his breath, getting his first real look at Cas' face as he steadied him from swaying. From here, he took a moment to look at the man he would soon kill, knowing that it would haunt him after but still somehow feeling like this was something he needed to do before the other was taken away forever. He let out a soft sigh as his gaze drifted over Cas' defined features, lingering on the scar through his eyebrow; above those meadow-green eyes that blinked so slow and heavily, waiting for sleep to overtake him. "I'm sorry," He said after a quiet moment, waiting for him to wholly slip away before doing anything else.
Cas was too sedated to respond at this point, even though for a moment he looked like he was going to. Everything felt too distant, as if he was being dragged away from the moment. He tried to keep his eyes open, tried to do anything to fight off whatever was in his system. But he was so tired. He could barely even move his head to try and get a better look at the duke, or the man he thought was a duke. He registered the words spoken, barely, but he did and wished he could have replied. His eyes closed, stay shut as he gently swayed where he was sat, completely unconscious with no control over his body or what happened to him anymore.
The moments after the prince passed out were a bit of blur to Hylas, ironically enough. He figured that his mind had pushed emotions aside to work and had taken care of this ordeal of getting them off the palace grounds, keeping record of the things he'd done without the thoughts or feelings he'd undergone as he carried out each task. So his mind was blank as he threw their glasses into the bushes; his movements calculated and soundless as he carried him out of the gardens, silently past the guards and into the stables where he readied a horse to take them away. No guilt or hesitation had stirred from the palace and all through his journey to the safehouse; the faraway basement that he would use to carry out the job. It was when they arrived that the dispair finally hit him; such a cold and shrill feeling as he lifted the motionless body off the horse, standing beneath the ink blue night and suddenly transfixed on the still figure laying before him. His numb stare was unbroken as he slapped the horse's thigh, sending it into a fluster of neighs as it galloped away before he moved to bring him down into the basement. The door was locked, he checked twice. The windows were bolted, even though they were too small and far up to be a problem. And Cas was still heavily unaware of anything around him. Hylas had placed the sleeping prince on a narrow cot, tying his hands to the steel pipes and his legs to the edge of the bedframe through his pangs of conscience. He threw off his gold mask and embroidered waistcoat, restlessly muttering how this wasn't how he did things as he tried to loosen the collar of his dress shirt. The distress carried out far into the night as he tried so hard to ignore the repeated objections that his mind put forth, standing dagger-in-hand over Cas as he willed himself to bury the blade inside of him, only to shake his head and return to a chair. It was hours of anguishing doubt and near crippling shame, thoughts and murmurings slurring together through his weak attempts to stay awake, blinking hard at the candelit face of the prince before unwillingly falling victim to his own exhaustion.
The prince was unconscious well into the morning. Not that he would know it was morning when he woke, the lack of light in the basement meant it could be any day, at any time. Time felt like it had passed so slowly in his dream-like, unconscious state. His thoughts hadn't registered wholly before he passed out. He had no recollection of what had happened once he had slipped away into the darkness of his mind, trapped there for hours on end before he finally came to. As he blinked his eyes open, he squinted, eyes not adjusting to the sudden change in light. His head was still spinning, leaving him confused as to what happened and where he was. Cas knew he wasn't at home, knew there was a chance that he was very far from home with little chance of him going back. Kidnappings were common with royals and those with power, however he'd never thought it would have happened to him of all people. He was a good guy, right? Maybe he wasn't as good of a leader as he thought he was… Swallowing his doubts he tried to sit up, only to find himself tied down. Tilting his head he looked up to find his hands bound and lifted his head enough to see his feet bound, too. He tugged at the restraints, testing him, seeing if there was any chance he could escape. Nope. Whoever had done this was clearly a professional. The duke. Ronan.. Cas knew that probably wasn't his real name and he was definitely not a duke.
Hylas woke to a gentle shuffling sound somewhere in the room, letting out a pained sigh as he rubbed his stiff neck. He opened his eyes to find the room far brighter than it had been mere hours ago; thick beams of sunlight peeking through the small windows. Looking towards the corner of the room, he felt his stomach drop as he saw the prince and numbly realized their situation. All the memories of the night– or more accurately a few hours ago, came flooding back to him as he blinked at the struggling prince, thinking back to the painful moral ambivalence and dispair of trying to make himself choose between killing the prince or letting him go. It was painful– such a sadistic thing to even consider when he'd paced the room for hours on end, trying desperately to come to a conclusion. But now, here he was, only a few hourfs after his feverish state of uncertainty and staring blank-faced at the man who he should've killed by now. Killing Cas while he was awake would be a hundred times heavier on his heart; seeing those green eyes turn glassy as he would plead for his life, thrashing and screaming for him to let him live. And even if Hylas was right in not killing him, letting himself fall asleep while the prince was still with him– letting him see his face –was such an amateurish thing to do. So all he could do was sigh at his own stupidity as he continued to ponder the dilemma in the back of his thoughts. "So," Hylas said out of the silence between them, absentmindedly twirling the blade of his dagger in his hand, "You're awake."
The words cut through the silence like a knife, like the one Hylas was holding. Cas frowned, turning his head to the side to get a better look at him. His eyes scanned his face, those dark doe eyes, long lashes and contemplative look on his face. For a moment he felt his stomach twist, wondering what he was thinking about. It couldn't have been anything good, not when he was holding a dagger and he had no form of defense. He sighed though his nose, "I'm assuming it was you that drugged me? Unless there's someone else hiding in the shadows?" He hoped there wasn't. The thought of death already scared him and the fact that he was already so close to tipping down that slope? He didn't needed another, what he assumed was an assassin, lurking around and killing him while he was distracted.
His thoughts were a running script of indecision as he faced the prince with a dispassionate look, still debating the problem of what he should do with him. If I kill him– but if I kill him now…Though if I let him go– he's seen my face. If I wait 'til he falls asleep…no. I could drug him again…? But this is still wrong. "I work alone," Hylas simply replied, slowly turning the blade over in his hand. The fact that no one else was involved ensured a thoroughgoing confidence in what he did; as no one knew his real name or what he looked like. But even if no one knew who he was– there was a silent network of people across the continents who knew how to contact and organize payments through his messenger raven. "But clever you for starting off with the right questions; you seemed the nervous type," He remarked, quietly surprised that the prince hadn't woken up in a panicked fit.
You’re not wrong there. Cas could feel his heart rate beating so fast and hard he was sure his soon-to-be killer could feel it. But nerves in front of people he didn’t like or were scared of was something he’d learned to control over the years. The perks of having to speak in front of assholes and men of more importance then he, “The real question is, if you’re going to kill me, why haven’t you done it yet?” Clearly he’d been drugged for awhile and Cas wasn’t an idiot, that would have been a prime time to kill me, when he couldn’t talk or fight back. Instead he was tied down and breathing.
Another question that surprised him. "Hm, right to the point, are you?" Hylas said with a tired smile, still trying answer his own question regarding the prince's fate. The dagger was heavy in his hands as his mind wandered to the flighty thought of running it across Cas' throat, wondering if that image would be too haunting of a memory to carry. All the blood and choking would be a painful sight to remember. Ever since the job was proposed Hylas had been trying to think the least evocative approach to killing him, but even now as he held a blade in his palm, he had scarcely a clue of what to do. "There could be a lot of reasons why I haven't killed you yet," He answered, letting his softened gaze wander around the room as he slowly stood from his chair, "For all you know, I could've been waiting for you to wake up."
The prince tracked his movements, watching him closely, eyes flicking to the blade in his hand ever so often. He released a breath, forcing it to not sound so shaky, "Well I'm awake now," He said, his throat and mouth going dry with the realisation that this could possibly be the end, "If you're going to do it, do so quickly." He swallowed. He was glad he hadn't eaten anything last night because he was sure that it would have come out by now. The prince subtly tugged at the restraints, seeing if there was anyway for him to escape. It was a fruitless attempt, he realised, there was no way out of this one.
The prince's statement quietly schocked Hylas. "It sounds like you've excepted the situation," He softly observed, looking down at Cas with a curious look; a momentary crack in his calm façade as he slowly moved to the other side of the room. He was at least expecting him to scream for help, maybe beg for his life or tug at Hylas' conscience in a desperate attempt to stop him from carrying out his murder. And though there was still time for the prince's panic to escalate into hysteria, these final moments had been a main worry of his while considering the assasination– whether the prince's pleas would nullify his plans or linger around his mind after he was killed. It didn't matter, anyway, he decided. Either way, he'd be unhappy with the choice he'd make, but killing him this way would at least be the easier option, so that's what he would do.
He let out a dry laugh, turning his head up to the ceiling, "Well you know, I don't want to have to except the situation but seeing as there is no way out of this it's the only option I have. You seem experienced, meaning there's no point crying for help or whatever bull. Begging won't work so I can only except death as it comes… and the fact that all my hard work I've done for the past few years will go to Hell and Eirus won't have an heir anymore but hey, want can you do now…" Cas knew he was rambling, knew that his nerves were showing through whatever mask he'd tried to put up. Confidence maybe? He didn't know, but his head was spinning with thoughts about what would happen after he was gone and none of them sat well with him.
Hylas almost frowned at the prince's words. It enraged him for some reason, to hear Cas speak of his situation through such a helpless lens. Almost every single person he'd killed before had put up some type of a fight, however small. The rare few that had the strength to speak would try desperately to negotiate some type of payment, or any other means of self-preservation that would, ultimately, fail. "You really don't understand what's happening, do you?" Hylas asked after a quiet moment of scrutiny, slowly reaching down to pick up a folded tarp of thin canvas, unfolding it and laying it out next to the cot, for the mess, "You still must be a little doped up or something." He glanced down at Cas impassively, softly shaking his head before turning his attention to his own sleeves, slowly beginning to roll up the black fabric, quietly unveiling a scattered arrangement of scars, "I know what terror does to people, and you aren't there. Yet."
"Have you ever killed a royal before?" Cas asked out of the blue, eyeing Hylas again, "Do you know what we're trained to do since birth?" Reject fear. Any fear. Fear of failure. Fear of letting everyone down. Fear of not being perfect enough. Fear of war. Fear of death. Sure, he was an anxious nervous mess when he was on his own. However in front of a crowd? In front of his father? Fear wasn't an option. He couldn't be scared because if a kingdom saw him crumble it would soon follow with. This situation was no different. Well, it was, he was either about to be tortured and killed or just downright stabbed. He couldn't be scared, couldn't give in to the terror that he felt striking through his veins.
Hylas pondered the idea of what they might've taught Cas as he was growing up when it came to putting on a steady face. He'd seen it the few noblemen he'd killed over the years– that shift in their presence. As soon as they'd entered a room of people their demeanour would so subtly change; like a switch, their shoulders would straighten and their mouth would twitch into a well-wishing smile that never seemed to fully reach their eyes. "I'm guessing you've thought about this, then?" Hylas prompted, facing the prince as he leaned on the edge of a table, "What to do, how to act…when you find yourself in such a position?" He felt that perhaps he was stalling, but his own questions had quietly provoked a concern for his own preparedness towards the moments that would follow, along with his employer's possible regard for how the royal family anticipated kidnappings. The prince's desperate confidence would only make things easier for Hylas, seeing that emotion wasn't being put into play– but he couldn't help but feel doleful towards this moment, where in the most vulnerable minutes of his life, Cas still had to play the part of a prince.
"'To fear death is to accept failure. To let a mask of confidence slip is to sign your kingdom over to the hands of the malicious.'" It was ingrained into him. For years it was all he heard, one of the main points when learning to rule. Repeated over and over and over, the phrase becoming worse whenever there was an assassination in another kingdom or continent, even with dukes. To die for your country, even in the worst of ways was supposedly 'good.' To be assassinated was less then ideal but one must keep their head high, to respect the honor of your kingdom, "I may not have been expecting to be assassinated, I may not have thought I'd ever be in this situation but I can't- I won't be scared of death." No matter how strongly he wanted to reject that statement and scream and beg for his life he'd follow the rules, follow the handbook.. even if it got him killed.
"I see," Hylas said after a moment, quietly considering the prince's words. He thought about what those words would mean to him, if he was the one facing death. What honour did he have? Honour couldn't possibly fit itself into his life now, when he was about to kill the beloved prince of Eirus after a lifetime of doing the same to others. "Well, I admire your bravery, Your Highness," He said, peering down at the blade of his dagger as he spoke, catching his reflection looking back at him, "Though I would argue that pride and honour has no place in dying– that perhaps it's fitting to go out of this world crying; the same way we came in." Death was a part of him, he knew. He could never escape the lingering acquaintance of what he'd done, and what more he would do. "And if it's a comforting fact; know that I'd let you go, so you might hide behind this mask of honour for another day, If I had a choice." He let out a halfhearted sigh as his gaze flickered to the prince, biting his lip as he slowly shifted away from the table, "But I don't have a choice."
“I’d rather live my life hiding behind a mask then lose all my honour killing innocent people,” Cas loosed a breath, one he knew was too shaky to pretend he was anything but scared but he wouldn’t let anything else show, would try not to let anything else show even if a slight glimmer in his eye said otherwise, “Everyone has a choice. You made the choice to accept killing me, made the choice to bring me here. You can make the choice to stop it here.” It was a last, slightly desperate attempt to be let go, knowing that this man, would let him go if he had a choice. Everyone had choices in life, this was just one of his. Hopefully he was a slightly reasonable man.
Hylas' grip tightened over the handle of his dagger as he slowly moved towards the prince. "Honour is a privilege that some can't afford," He bitterly replied, thinking of the other orphan children he'd grown up with; all crooks, thieves, and harlots now. Along with liquor and opium, they had all resorted to the only means of living they could hold. And as for Hylas– some might even say he was one of the lucky ones; bearing what gold he had for the horrors that he would inflict. I could buy as much honour as I want after this. He knew the prince was right about this choice in some way, but the doubt and uncertainty in his heart was heavy as he looked down at Cas, pleading with himself to kill him and be done with it. "But you still don't understand–" Hylas said, willing his hands to not shake, "If I don't do this, I won't stop. There is no other option. We're both going to die if I let you go; you've seen my face, and someone else will come for you."
The prince eyed the blade, forced himself to take his gaze away from the weapon and up to the others face, “They’d still be time between you and the next. Time to do some more good in this world. There’s always another option, you can put down the blade, let me go and make a new life for yourself. Wouldn’t that be better then killing me?” He prayed, he prayed that he’d get out of this. He’d been through war, lost people he was close to, he couldn’t let their sacrifices and all that he’d done for his kingdom go to waste. His life wasn’t supposed to end here, he was supposed to become king and build Eirus into the kingdom it was known to be, but better, “If you kill me it’s not just my life you’re taking, but so many others that will end if I don’t become king, if Eirus doesn’t have an heir anymore the kingdom will fall.”
Hylas swallowed, shaking his head as he looked down at the prince, those pleading eyes so full or fear. "I know what will happen to Eirus– but I just have to do this. I don't want to, I swear, I just…" He grievously replied, letting out a nervous breath. Freedom was so close, he could feel it in the way his hands ached to bury his blade into the prince's chest. Just this last killing and he wouldn't have to do it anymore; the money would be more then enough to last him and no one else would get hurt. The Raven would disappear, and so would the prince. "This is the only way for me to make a new life for myself," Hylas told him, running a shaky hand through his dark hair, "You'll come for me if I let you go– but not before they find you. Eirus will fall, then. They want you dead, and they'll have you that way."
“I don’t have time for any of this, time to worry about who might come for me, whoever your employer might be and whatever their associates are. Not when I might not have the time to make sure my kingdom is safe and prepared if it falls if they do,” Cas was desperate now, practically ready to beg for more time, more borrowed time to do something good for his kingdom, for his father and his people, “If they want me dead then they can do it themselves and not get someone else to do it for them. Please.” He had to get home, had to make sure everything was okay back there, make sure his father was okay. It was all borrowed time and he hoped he’d be able to steal more.
The prince's desperate words were painful to hear as Hylas stood before him, clutching his dagger so hard that his knuckles turned white. "I can't let you go back," He said, his mind flickering back once again to the question of if he should kill him. The thought was unbearable now that he could see how all Cas wanted was to protect Eirus– without barely any regard for himself. He was exhausted from agonizing over the decision for weeks and only sleeping for a few hours last night, and his mind felt so numb he was worried that he might kill him without wholly meaning to. "I can't let you go back," Hylas repeated, clenching his jaw when his hand twitched. I have to kill him. I couldn't live with myself if I killed him. Killing him will make things stop. "I have to kill you or– or something. But you're not going back. People know that you're missing, but if you return they'll know you're alive, and you won't last a day."
The prince tugged at his restraints, desperately trying to do anything that might let him escape, might get him home, might be able to convince Hylas to stop this, “One day is all I need. It’s enough to put regulations, restrictions, laws, plans in place that could at least protect the people I care about.” Please. Please just let me have one more day. He knew it was getting hopeless now. Knew that there was probably no hope in begging and pleading when the knife was so so close to being plunged into his chest and the life being stolen from him, “Please.”
The racing thoughts in Hylas' mind were so loud he could almost hear them. There were pleas of a collapse, begging him to just walk away from this whole thing because it was too much– too loud and taxing on his emotional state because he wasn't used to feeling this much. There were despairing pleas to push aside his exhaustion, to do what he needed to do and worry about the guilt later. But most emphatically were the pleas to have mercy on the prince– in whichever way he knew how. "They'll come for you, when they hear you're still alive," Hylas told him again, his mind a flurry of overwhelming distress as he shifted on his feet, turning the dagger over in his hand, "The second you step foot outside you're on borrowed time. Time that might not even be worth the pain in the end. There are eyes everywhere, and if they see you–"
