74 Parallels (1/2)

After recalling that the Prince might not know who she was referring to, the female soldier explained, ”Kel's the owner of your armor, Prince, and Alanna's the other senior -- our leader's right-hand woman.”

His face looking grim, Leal nodded. ”That would mean it's Baron Harmin in there.”

Hilde breathed a secret sigh of relief that it wasn't the Lord Viscount. The very next moment, though, she felt guilty for it. It did not make the situation any better just because it wasn't the man she was closer to who was in immediate danger. Certainly, to Leal, there was no difference at all.

Now she felt a strong need to apologize again -- for her own slips, for her people's various hostile behaviors -- but she recalled that this all happened because the Lyseans have come when they shouldn't have. She then felt equal parts angry at them for the problems they'd caused and ashamed that she's blaming them when Arnicans were clearly very much at fault too.

She was spiralling again, and she knew it. With conscious effort, she closed her eyes and began inhaling slowly.

'Stop, Hilde,' she told herself. Her inner voice sounded like her, but as she began to pay more attention to her breathing to calm her raging thoughts and emotions, she recognized the influence of her past identity in the way she actively speaks to herself. 'That's right, breathe. All of it's already happened; it's done. Just deal with the present. ”Now” is what you can still influence.'

Hilde opened her eyes to a largely unchanged scene. Leal had also fallen deep in thought. His resolve to let the situation stand regardless of which group was being mobbed -- of refraining from acting until those who could still reach safety had done so -- was clearly under fire.

Now unruffled and in full possession of herself, Hilde asked the soldier, ”Do you think your comrades are in danger of being overwhelmed? How bad are the attacks?”

With a last look at the Prince, the older female shook her head and answered, ”The situation on the ground is being contained by the palace guards, Princess, more or less. But there's this stubborn group of around a dozen men, and they'd been using the roofs and adjacent buildings to try entering through the upper floors. Most windows seem well boarded from the inside -- the few that were breached are well defended. The...”

She hesitated, swallowing before training her eyes full of worry first towards Hilde, then towards Leal, who'd begun listening in at some point. Finally, she looked to the ground.

”Please continue,” said Hilde in a gentle but firm tone.

The soldier swallowed again. ”The only real danger is that the building might be torched.” At this, despite her self-enforced calmness, Hilde's heart slammed against her ribcage. ”No soldier has drawn their sword yet, Princess, not even my fellows. I think that has helped keep the aggression minimal. Still...”

She was once again unable to continue, but Hilde could guess what she might be getting at.

”If someone gets it into his head to set fire to the place -- to lure them out or to kill them outright...”

Now, she too was put in a difficult spot. A part of her was proud in an admiring way that the women were defending well without using deadly force. She didn't even know if that was still her order being followed or if someone else had given the same one. If things were to escalate...

Her first choice would always be to not let the blood of their citizens spill, but at what cost?

For the moment, she was freed from having to decide because Leal had made his own choice first.

”We shall await word that Viscount Renard is safe.”

The soldier barely managed to hold in her protest. Her worry was for her comrades, and it was likely that she couldn't care less about the Lyseans in their charge. After all, the Viscount's status was unknown -- there was half a chance he was alright. On the other hand, it was certain that the Baron and those with him were in danger. Why risk the latter even more, and her fellows with him?