#maelie

Walking through the hallways, Count Durendaire searched for his heir. He wasn't in any of his usual hangouts and it was already dark outside. Pushing down the worry building in his chest, he pulled aside a knight.

"Have you seen Ronantain?" he asked.

The knight shook his head.

"We haven't been able to reach the knights assigned to him either, milord," responded the knight, "I was on my way to inform you, we're combing the city, but haven't had any luck so far,"

"Has there been any letters?"

"Not yet, milord,"

Charlemend gritted his teeth.

"Who was with him?"

"Ser Iphax, Ser Tishonne and Lady Maelie,"

"Maeli too," muttered Charlemend, under his breath, "Inform me the second you either found them, or there is a ransom letter,"

"Yes, milord,"

His eyes flicked to the grandfather clock on the wall, he had tea with Edmont in a few minutes. Did he really want to go? With his nephew, two knights of his house, and a young lady missing?

He went anyway, he couldn't just bail on Edmont when it had taken so long to align their schedules.

His friend could tell something was wrong, however.

"Something on your mind, Charlemend?" asked Edmont

"Ronantain has gone missing, along with Maelie and two knights from my house," explained Charlemend.

In the past, this would not have been information he would have shared with anyone, for fear of it being used against him. But that time had passed. Edmont's brow furrowed and he set his tea cup down.

"Has there been a ransom letter?"

"Not yet,"

A knock on the door drew the mens' attention.

"Enter," called Edmont.

A servant and a Durendaire knight entered, the knight making his way to Charlemend.

"Milord, we've located Ser Iphax and Ser Tishonne," he said

"Do they know where Ronantain and Maelie are?"

"We have no way of knowing, milord, they're both still unconscious from their injuries,"

"Injuries?"

"It looks like they were both severely tortured,"

Charlemend felt his throat close up.

"No ransom letter?" his voice didn't sound like his own.

"None,"

Charlemend buried his face in his hands. He had already lost a son because of his own actions, to lose a nephew and one he had come to think of as his own daughter, it made him feel sick.

"I'm sorry, Edmont, but I must go," he said

"I understand, my friend, let me know if there is anything I can do to help,"

Charlemend nodded numbly and rose.

"Take me to the knights, I wish to see their injuries for myself,"

The knights looked horrible. Almost every inch of their bodies was wrapped in bandages or splints of some kind. Their chest rose and fell but the motion was weak and uneven.

"What's their condition?" he asked one of the Chirurgeons.

"They are lucky, very lucky. They will make it, but they will need physical therapy,"

He nodded before turning to his butler.

"Mark them down for payed leave, and ensure they pay nothing for their recovery,"

The butler nodded, trying very hard to hide his surprise. The Charlemend of the past would have just fired them. Now, that thought made him feel sick. He would do better by his people.

"My lord!" a voice cried from behind him.

Charlemend turned as a knight burst through the door.

"It's Lady Maelie and Lord Ronantain! They're by the gates!"

Charlemend had never run faster.

The gates came into view and Charlemend spotted two knights trying to talk to a very injured Maelie, Ronantain slung across her back. Both children looked horrible and it was clear they had been hurt, badly.

Charlemend rushed to her side, dropping to one knee and looking her and Ronantain over, his brow furrowed with worry.

"Charlemend," Maelie croaked, looking like she was fighting tears.

"You're alright, now, you're safe," he said.

Maelie let out a sob before her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell forward. Charlemend caught them both, trying to quell the fear welling up inside him. He picked both children up, one on each hip and carried them into the city proper.

It had been a long time since he had last carried anyone. He couldn't…couldn't even remember if he had ever held his son.

He pressed the unconscious teenagers close to him and picked up his pace.

They were asleep, peacefully now. Charlemend had informed the heads of the orphanage that Maelie would be staying at the manor until she recovered. He had heard that the knights had awoken and given their statements.

They had agreed to be tortured to protect Ronantain and Maelie. The two knights lamented the fact their efforts had been for naught but, Ronantain and Maelie's injures had been minor, just bled a lot and Charlemend was quick to commend his knights on their efforts.

When he told them they had paid leave until they had recovered, the knights had looked at him with shock before thanking him profusely for the privilege. Rage and guilt about his past actions swirled inside of him. He had much and more to make up for. He would need to find a way to get in contact with knights he had previously fired for injuries, if they still lived, and give them payment they would have earned if they were still in his employment. He knew it wouldn't change their feelings, but he hoped it would ease their pains.

Ronantain mumbled in his sleep, shifting to the side. Charlemend brushed his hair out of his face, hands lingering against his nephew's cheek. Ronantain leaned against his hand, face relaxing.

Charlemend's heart ached for the son he had driven away.

He knew his son would be the one person he would never be able to make amends for. He didn't even have his body, sunken somewhere in the sea.