I rose, my leg trembling just slightly before I forced it under control. When I looked up from my landing, I saw her—Princess Aliynn. Her cool blue eyes were locked on me, and a faint, calculated smile tugged at her lips. She folded her arms over her chest with practiced grace—the image of composed royalty.
"Ah, my champion," she purred, voice saccharine and rehearsed. "First, let me offer my congratulations. Watching you… it truly was a joy. Even in my darkest hour, your loyalty gives me strength."
She was speaking to me, but the words rang hollow—lines from a script she'd likely written days ago. Every syllable made my skin crawl.
"Now that you're here," she continued, "we must act. That scoundrel Thorne has betrayed us. He's taken those loyal to him and opened the gates to the Emberland savages. The city burns, and only we remain to save it."
I didn't respond. I didn't care about her plans or her false sense of urgency.
I asked the only thing that mattered.
"What did you do with Heather!?!"
No misdirection. No games. I already suspected she was bluffing, but I had to be sure before I ended her.
As I spoke, I scanned the room. Two older men stood nearby. One was partially obscured, but something about him was familiar. The other, unfortunately… was all too recognizable as he was the medical director. His presence stirred memories I wished had stayed buried. My mother, my old master. That estate would burn before this week ended. I had never cared much for revenge before… but now that I'd had a taste, I found myself wanting more.
"Heather?" Aliynn echoed, feigning confusion. Then, her eyes lit with amusement. "Oh, you mean that unknown drifter girl?"
She stepped forward slightly, her tone twisting like a blade.
"You see, I've had my eyes on you for quite some time as I'm sure you know. So when you turned me down, I told myself perhaps you were just… disinterested. Maybe even one of those types you know the ones that prefer their own. So I made peace with the idea that you'd never be mine. Maybe I'd just have to settle—use you as an eyepiece or a breeder."
She inhaled deeply and let out a sigh, like this was all some grand disappointment.
"But no. You found her. A filthy little rat from the gutters to fuck. I let it go at first as I wished to be a magnanimous and kind ruler letting slaves do what slaves do. But now that you're a champion?"
Her smile vanished.
"I couldn't allow that."
She turned and strolled toward the table near the center of the room—calm, graceful, completely unbothered. Not a hint of fear showed on her face. Not even curiosity. As if she truly believed she was untouchable.
I stepped forward, lifting my blade with a sense of hate and anger to bring it to my normal high ready. The weight felt good in my hand like it also wanted to get revenge on this woman, and why wouldn't it. After me she was the next most responsible for Kushim's death.
I advanced steadily, eyes locked on her. I wasn't trying to mask my intent—but whatever twisted world existed inside her head, she must've seen something else entirely. She turned to face me with a radiant smile, arms open like a lover greeting their beloved after a long separation.
"Edric," she breathed, her voice dripping with affection. I swung my blade down at her throat, the air hissed and then nothing. I had my eyes open the whole of the time but i still wasnt able to process that the old man in the corner moved fast enough to block my blade with a shiv of his own.
"Mark? what…? " I felt befuddled that Mark of all people was here and that he was siding with the princess.
"You shouldn't be helping her… we- we are allies." I was reeling more from the shock of this more than I would think. It might have been the exhaustion or that i had known this man for years and confided in him that his betrayal here was overwhelming my mind.
"Mark… you know she sent Kushim to die, right?"
My voice cracked. I could barely keep it together.
"I—I know you weren't close with him, but… he liked you. He trusted you. He thought of you as not maybe a friend but someone trusted to be true."
My hand tightened around the hilt.
"And me? We were friends. Weren't we? You taught me everything—helped shape who I am. So why?"
My breath hitched. "Why are you standing in my way right now?"
His expression shifted—gone was the stiff, pious man I'd trusted. In his place stood something cruel, something ancient and amused.
"Ah, this never gets old…" he said, lips curling into a smirk. "'Mark this, Mark that…' Let it go."
He leaned in slightly, voice dropping, almost intimate.
"I'm not Mark. Haven't been for a while, really. The man you knew? He's gone. And all this time, you've been spilling secrets to your greatest enemy."
He giggled—giggled—and pushed down on my blade. His neck muscles tensed under the strain, so I knew it wasn't easy for him, but still… he managed it.
"Now, boy," he whispered, "be wise. Obey your mentor. Drop the blade… and bend the knee to your new queen."