TW: Coarse language

"Do you have any idea what this is about?" Roche whispered behind Tigris. They were both decked out in training gear. A squire had come up to them, saying that the king requested Tigris' presence in the throne room urgently.

Tigris shook her head, tugging at the hem of her training shirt uncomfortably. The throne room was full of courtiers. She wished she'd had time to freshen up and look a bit less sweaty from training with Roche.

Roche nudged Tigris' side. "Here," the maid murmured, pressing a damp cloth into Tigris' hand, "Your makeup's fine, but dab around your forehead a bit. You're glistening."

"Thanks," Tigris murmured, quickly following the instructions. Aodh sauntered up beside her, his face tight with worry. Tigris' brows furrowed at the sight of him, worry filling her. "He called you here too?"

Aodh frowned. "This can't be good. Where's Finn?"

"Still in the dungeons," Kai answered, coming up beside Roche. His eyes were bright with worry. He met Tigris gaze, wringing his hands nervously. "They haven't let me see him or tend to him, though. It's been days."

Tigris' stomach squirmed. "They haven't let me see him either," she admitted, fighting the urge to bite her lip, "Father's ordered no one in or out except him and his personal guards." She hadn't been able to wheedle any information out of the guards either, they were older and staunchly loyal to her Father.

Aodh looked disgruntled. "Roche," he asked slowly, "Have you been able to use your 'charm' to visit Finn?"

Roche shook her head, much to Tigris' dismay. Tigris exchanged a nervous glance with her brother. It was well known between the both of them that inkblood was considered the highest of offenses in her father's eyes, but would he try to hurt Finn for it?

Or worse, kill him?

"We need to check on him," Tigris murmured as the enormous double doors swung open. The king swept in, his face blank and unreadable. The shadows on his face were sharp, giving his face a severe look. He didn't glance at Tigris or her brother once. A shiver went down her spine.

Aodh's eyes narrowed as they tracked the king's movements across the throne room. The king swept towards his throne, settling on it with a regal kind of grace.

It was only then that he looked at Tigris. His eyes were cold, disapproving. Instantly, her stomach squirmed like a nest of vipers. They hadn't spoken since he'd discovered the vial in Finn's room several days ago.

"Be seated," he ordered, his voice flat and indecipherably smooth.

Mindful of the eyes on her, Tigris tried not to look at Aodh as she settled on her seat on the dais. In her periphery, she saw Aodh doing the same, his face tight with worry.

The room fell silent, as if even the tittering courtiers and nobles could sense the tension between the royals. The delegates shifted on their feet nervously, their eyes searching the room for the face of Lady Lisa. A lump formed in Tigris' throat.

This was a diplomatic nightmare.

The king's gaze swept over the room, sharp with appraisal. "Thank you all for coming on such short notice," he began, his voice echoing loudly off the walls. His commanding aura filled the air, muting the shuffle of bodies pressing closer to hear. Tigris felt stiff and frozen on her dais. "Three nights ago, a group of inkbloods made an attempt against the Faultless Kingdom."

Gasps rang out in the throne room. Nobles clamoured in distress. The delegates from the Tselts murmured amongst themselves, faces tightening with worry.

"Princess," Roche whispered, "Watch your face."

Tigris realised that her bored mask had been slipping as she scanned the room for reactions. She smoothed her features back into neutrality as her mind began to race.

"You assured us that there were no inkbloods in your kingdom, King Romulus!" one of the delegates snapped shrewdly, "How can we trust in your word?"

The king's gaze swung to the raucous member, his eyes so cold that Tigris had to bite back a shiver.

"I know," the king said slowly, "Because the inkblood was from your party, ambassador."

The Tseltans drew in sharp breaths. The court fell so silent that Tigris wondered if the nobles could hear her pulse.

"As I'm sure you have noticed, I grew amicable with Lady Lisa, the dancer from your party, over the past few days and drawing her into my circle of confidantes," the king lifted his chin regally, practically daring anyone to disagree, "This of course, was a ruse to draw the truth from her beastly lips. She was caught in the act of making an attempt against the crown of the Faultless Kingdom."

The only evidence of the king's magnanimous lie was the subtle twitch of his eye, only noticed by Tigris, who was closest. It was a brilliant fib. In one breath, the king had effectively shut down all doubts and accusations from the Tseltan delegates and turned it back around on them, all the while reaffirming his court's trust in his ability to lead after the tax incident. This lie also settled the matter of Tigris' claim to the throne.

She clenched the armrests of her throne in a white knuckled grip, feeling the bite of the sharp edge as the Tseltans went still and pale, glancing amongst each other with horror.

The king smiled mirthlessly. "Do you not believe me?" he asked. No one dared to answer him, but there were a few pursed lips. The king glanced to the side, beckoning a servant forward. The servant quickly handed something over, so quick that Tigris couldn't glimpse the object before the king rapidly lofted it into the air.

All Tigris caught was the gleam of a glass vial before the king threw it to the ground. Gasps and shouts rang out through the air as the vial shattered against the floor. Thick globules of ink splattered against the ground.

"Scraped from the veins of the so-called Lady Lisa herself," the king announced as the masses scrambled away from the inky mess, "This is what flowed through her veins."

Tigris heard Roche suck in a breath, but it didn't sound disgusted or horrified like many of the courtiers looked right now. It sounded angry. She leaned forward slightly, shock blooming in her as she glimpsed a faint, golden shimmer emanating from the spilled liquid.

It was the gorgon's inkblood.

Tigris felt like she was going to pass out. Her father was steeped in his lie, incensed by it. He rose to his feet, cheeks flushed with fervor as he swept his gaze across the cowering masses.

"So," he said, his voice dangerously level, "You brought an inkblood into my kingdom? Do you know the price of harbouring an inkblood in this city?"

The Tseltans looked as pale as ghosts. One of them had fallen into a dead faint. The lead ambassador who had spoken out earlier trembled visibly, eyes wide.

"Execution," he whispered. Suddenly, he fell to his knees, quickly followed by his fellow delegates and nobles, "We didn't know, King Romulus! We had no idea that she was an inkblood!"

The king smiled. Actually smiled. Tigris' breath hitched against her will. He had all these people at his knees, terrified for their lives. All of it for a lie of his making.

Logically, she knew it was for the good of the kingdom. But she felt sick. They were all fearing for their lives for the sake of a lie. Her gorge rose.

"I know," the king murmured, the words soft and twisted with sympathy. False sympathy, Tigris registered faintly. The king kept his face perfectly straight, almost pitying, like the words he was saying weren't his way of covering his ass.

"You do?" the Tseltan asked, his voice quavering with a terrible mix of hope and fear.

"I do," the king said gently, like he was being benevolent, "I know your party would never intentionally jeopardise these proceedings."

The Tseltans were nodding gratefully, glancing at one another with hope. "Yes!" the ambassador agreed instantly, "We would never stand for inkblood in these lands!"

"Nor would I," the king replied, "In fact, I cannot deny the fact that you brought up a good point. Inkblood should have never been allowed into this castle in the first place. There should have been stronger safeguards and prevention measures, as we discussed."

The ambassador was nodding like a broken bobblehead doll. Tigris fought a twist of her lips. The man was so petrified and relieved that he would agree to anything. Perhaps that had been her father's plan all along.

Tigris took a deep breath to calm herself. Exposing the king in his lie now would endanger the fragile relations between the nations now. All she could do was bite her tongue and wait for the right moment.

A wise woman keeps her burning on the inside.

The king rose from his seat in an elegant sweep of fabric. Tigris barely felt herself rise with him, like she was a puppet pulled along a string.

"As a show of the Faultless Kingdom's commitment to our promise to keep these lands safe from inkblood, I am sanctioning the removal of one of the largest threats we've been clinging to. For too long, the Faultless Kingdom has harboured the fodder of inkbloods. I must admit that even my own son has been sympathetic to it. But no longer! The kingdom comes before the heart's interests. He and everyone who has pitied ink in all of its foul forms will see the folly of their ways today."

Tigris' blood froze in her veins painfully, freezing her in place. She heard Roche distantly murmuring, "What is he talking about?"

Tigris couldn't reply. Because amongst the flowery words, she'd heard something about her brother and seen a cunning glint in her father's eyes.

The king nodded to the guards at the doors. "Bring him in!"

The doors swung open again. Roche gasped behind Tigris, but it was lost to the roar of the gathered court. Tigris couldn't process anything beyond the sight of her baby brother locked in manacles and chains that wrapped around him like a tomb. He winced against the light of the throne room, his face shadowed and smeared with grime, utterly unfitting for a man of his station.

"Finn," Aodh whispered hoarsely. Somehow, through the chaos of the crowd, Finn seemed to hear him. His green eyes snapped towards the dais and they sharpened. Tigris watched the realisation roll over him.

This wasn't a private punishment.

This was a public humiliation.

His eyes widened as he was dragged forward to the dais where the king loomed, utterly unfeeling. Tigris unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth.

"What is this?" she demanded aloud. There was a lot she would let her father do, but treating Finn this way was not one of them. She lurched forward, and Roche cried out in warning. Hands clamped around her wrists, holding her back. The older guards restrained her, keeping her away from Finn.

A low curse from Aodh confirmed that he was in a similar predicament. A glance at the crowd revealed Kai trying to make his way to the front from where he'd been herded.

Finn's lips quivered. He looked so young at that moment that Tigris hated it. They were on the edge of a change, a change that would shatter him. He couldn't be weak, not now.

Please don't break in front of me, brother, I can't bear it.

The guards holding him kicked the back of his knees. Finn fell to the ground, prostate before the king.

Before Tigris.

A strangled wheeze escaped her lips.

"My son," the king continued, ignoring the way his children struggled, "Has long coveted books and ink. No longer can I deny that foul inkbloods like Lisa were drawn to this castle not only because of the nobility residing here, but because of the danger we keep within. The very danger my own child has dabbled in."

The king locked eyes with Finn, his face glacial even as Finn silently pleaded with him.

"Inkblood always has been drawn to works of ink, and the Faultless Kingdom boasts the largest collection of books in the world. It is a sign of our strength that we keep the power of our foes within these walls without succumbing to evil, yet we must admit that it is a danger to house the worship of evil within our sacrosanct castle."

The king stepped off his throne, coming to a stop directly in front of Finn. The prince didn't struggle, he only watched with growing horror that matched Tigris'.

"It is my decree that the fodder of such evil will burn at sundown today as a testimony of the Faultless Kingdom's promise," the king stared Finn down, leaving no room for misunderstanding. Tigris' breath lodged in her throat as the king growled, "There is no room for inkblood or its sympathisers in this kingdom."

There was a pause, as long as the instant before an explosion. Tigris found herself holding her breath as the king straightened, addressing the crowd with a wide smile.

"Today at sundown, the Faultless Library will burn! No longer shall inkblood threaten these lands!"

"What?" Finn shouted as the crowd began to cheer raucously, "Father, please! That knowledge is irreplaceable! I will never enter the library again! I'll never look at inkblood again, I'll raid as many villages as you want! Just please, don't do this!"

The rawness of his begging, the desperation in his voice, nearly snapped the fraying control Tigris had over her expression. She couldn't believe this was happening. She couldn't believe Finn was in chains before her, looking like he hadn't been given food or water since he'd entered the dungeons. He licked his dry lips, his begging beginning anew with his hoarse voice.

The king rolled his eyes. "Your soft heart will be your undoing," he muttered to Finn, glancing at the guards, "Take him away! He will be released after he watches the library burn!"

Finn struggled against his guards, weak after days without food or movement. He spat and hissed like a feral animal, lunging at the king.

His father, Tigris' father, stared impassively, like he was watching a criminal rather than his son.

"You do this," Finn bellowed, his voice echoing over the clamouring crowd, "And I will never forgive you! The world will know the truth of what you have done! I will ensure it."

The king sneered. "There, there, son. Don't let the ink delude you."

Finn released a primal scream that made every hair stand up on Tigris' arm. The guards wrangled him back out the doors, cutting off his bestial, vengeful shouts by slamming the doors shut.

The king returned to his dais, utterly unaffected. He waved a hand at the crowd.

"I hope to see you all there," he said airily, dismissing the court with a wave of his hand. Tigris didn't sit. She barely breathed. She spun on her father as the crowds filtered out.

"What have you done?" she hissed, unable to keep the horror out of her voice, "Lying to a foreign nation, throwing inkblood at a crowd, shackling your own son?!"

"Enough!" the king boomed, his words punctuated by the doors to the throne room slamming shut. He stood, looming over her. Tigris was aware of the older guards, guards loyal to her father first, circling behind her, but she couldn't find it in her to care.

"You will show me some respect!" the king demanded, "This is a royal decree. You do not have the authority to question me."

Tigris clenched her fists, fighting the urge to lunge at her father. "This is unjust!" she shouted, "You've lied to them all!"

"You will hold your tongue!" the king thundered.

"If I do not speak now, then when can I?" Tigris challenged, her voice raw and fractured, "You have lied to an entire nation! You made them bow before you and fear for their lives for your folly. You let lives hang in the balance for the sake of your reputation, and you are making your son pay the price!"

The king settled back on his throne, his eyes flickering with embers of carefully controlled fury.

"What else would you have me do?" he asked dryly, "Tell the truth? That one of their own managed to enchant me and tried to kill me and my children?"

"There were hundreds of excuses you could have used," Tigris seethed, "Hundreds of ways you could have saved this kingdom without making innocent people fear for their lives and placing your son in chains!"

The king stared at her coolly. "I cannot risk the reputation of the Faultless Kingdom. Knowing that I was enchanted would make us seem weak."

"You mean you," Tigris corrected instantly, fire licking up her spine, "It would make you seem weak. You could have used your enchantment as an example of the dangers of inkblood, but instead you chose to protect your image."

"I am the kingdom and the kingdom is me," the king argued, his eyes blazing with heat. Twin spots of red bloomed on his cheeks as he leaned forward in his throne, "And if you do not mind your tongue, Finnegan will not be the only one in shackles tonight!"

Tigris' breath left her in a rush. She could only gawk at her father, stunned that he would ever say such a thing. His eyes were burning with anger, not a hint of regret.

No, not just anger. Humiliation.

Tigris reeled in her fury for a moment, studying her father's face. Her father wasn't just outraged. He was embarrassed. Embarrassed to have fallen for an inkblood's tricks, just as he had when Finn was born. The shame of both events grated at him, transformed him from a benevolent and just leader into... whoever he was now.

Tigris could only stare. Tarak's voice echoed in her mind.

Pride. She understood now, even more so than she did back then, how pride was a Silvian folly, one that she had easily inherited. And if she wasn't careful, this is what she would become. A leader who placed their reputation over the wellbeing of their people.

Aodh had remained silent until now, but he stepped beside Tigris, hand tight around the pommel of his sword.

"You've made a grave mistake, Father," Aodh informed him, his voice so low it was practically a growl, "Or have you forgotten that Finn wasn't lying? That you used inkblood to conceive him. What do you think will happen when he spreads that rumour around?"

The king's eyes flared with surprise, like he couldn't believe that even Aodh was opposing him. His uncertainty lasted only a moment. After that, he was straightening in his seat with a cruel smirk.

"Believe me," he said smugly, "After tonight, your brother won't be so disobedient to suggest such a thing again."

Aodh nearly lunged for him, but Tigris grabbed his elbow before he could. He glanced at her questioning, his face tight with barely restrained fury.

A wise woman keeps her burning on the inside, her mother's words thrummed in her ears. A night locked in the dungeons wouldn't help Finn or her people. She needed to be free to help her brother.

"We'll be taking our leave," Tigris growled, her hand tightening on Aodh's elbow, "And I hope you understand our concerns, my lord."

She couldn't resist infusing as much sarcasm as Roche usually put in the title. The king's jaw tightened.

"Go," he snapped, "Before I decide Finnegan isn't the only insolent child I have."

Aodh's lips curled with disgust. "What, are you going to frame us t-" Tigris elbowed him before he could finish. She dipped into an ungrateful curtsy before dragging Aodh through the doors.

Aodh yanked himself out of her grip the moment they were past the threshold.

"Screw this, I'm getting Finn out myself!" Aodh snapped, moving to storm down the hall. Tigris grabbed him by the nape of the neck as guards passed by, casting her curious looks.

"Are you mad?" she hissed, her mind whirring, "This place is crawling with guards."

"So we're just leaving Finn there?" he asked, a vein bulging out of his livid face, "You'd leave him to watch the library burn?"

Tigris' chest ached. They'd spent their childhoods running amongst those shelves. She remembered her mother delicately pulling books to read to her. When her mother was dead, it was Verita who read to her. Then it was Finn who spent his time there, reading away.

Tonight, their childhood would be set aflame.

"You're going to get caught if you go now," she said, swallowing down the lump in her throat, "If we keep to ourselves, we can help Finn once this is over. If we act stupidly, we're going to make things worse for him. Father's at his wits end right now, there's no telling what he'll do to Finn if we act out!"

Aodh's chest heaved. He ran a hand through his hair, turning his head.

"I can't believe he's done this," he murmured brokenly, "He... he always told us to be just."

"There is no justice when it comes to inkblood," Tigris told him hollowly, "We should have never used that inkblood, gorgon's or not."

A broken whine sounded behind them. Roche leaned against the doors to the courtroom, looking pale. Her normally wide eyes were now the size of dinner plates. Another strangled sound escaped her, and the maid placed a hand against her mouth in horror, like she was trying to speak but the words were mangled by her emotion.

It hit Tigris then. Roche's home was the library. Roche was going to watch her home burn.

"Shit," Aodh muttered lowly, coming to the same realisation. Tigris moved towards the trembling woman.

"It's going to be okay, Roche." she tried to soothe, reaching out to steady the maid before she could topple over. Roche flinched away from her touch, shaking her head so quickly that her features blurred. She stumbled back.

Tigris' heart sank. "Roche," she tried to say something comforting, but Roche had pulled away, darting around the royals.

"I need to warn Verita!" the maid gasped, finally finding her words. A sheen of sweat coated her features, "She doesn't know!"

The words hit Tigris like a punch, knocking the air out of her. The librarian was going to be devastated. She couldn't offer any assuring words as Roche sprinted away, her face tight with worry.

Aodh was cursing aloud, pacing the hall with his hands threaded through his hair.

Tigris watched Roche's shrinking figure, heart sinking like a stone. She knew, in her heart, that tonight would change everything.

A/N: ... yeah, I don't know how Tigris and Roche are going to get out of this one :O

Heads up, the next chapter is long but super whumpy! We're almost at the end of the arc, and it's going to be a gamechanger! Any theories on how the next chapter is going to go?

As always, happy reading!