by Alex Shobe
My fingertips skim the walls as I get closer to the bedchambers. This wing of the castle is still secluded from the madness. I hope to find him here, preparing to come visit me in the cell as he’d promised. If the guards had alerted him to the activity in the courtyard, the castle would’ve been on high-alert by now. Merethe did mention Aerok’s reduction of the castle’s guard presence. Perhaps he also has left them to delegate problems without bothering him.
I stand in front of my bedchamber door and pause. No guards, no sounds, just the mild crackle of the lanterns hanging from the walls. I rest my palm against the door’s smooth wood. After a deep, clarifying breath, I push the door open, inch by inch.
It opens silently, and I peek inside. My shoulders sag in disappointment when I don’t see him. I push the door open wider, still taking care not to announce my presence.
A few candles illuminate the room in an amber glow. I enter, leaving the door open behind me. I squint toward the bed. Empty. The sheets show no evidence of someone who had slept there. The evidence of Aerok putting his hands all over my body are missing, too. I shudder and walk further inside.
On my vanity, I spot the dagger Aiden crafted for me. I creep toward it and let my hand hover over the wooden hilt before slipping it into my belt. After one last glance toward the bed, I cross the room to the door. My chest expands with readiness as I take a step into the corrid—
“Looking for me?”
Aerok’s silhouette stretches and he grabs me by my throat. His merciless grip lifts me until my toes graze the floor. My mind flies to the dagger, but my hands fly to his fingers in a desperate need to free them.
“Well, aren’t you a clever girl.” He forces me back into the bedchamber, his eyes darkened with satisfaction. He laughs. The harshness of it pierces my skin, my hair raising on end. “You think you can take back a crown that doesn’t fit you? You’re just as naive as everyone thought you were.”
His words are meant to hurt me, but they only fuel the embers that are simmering in my core, on the verge of igniting me into an all-consuming ball of fire. I reach for his fingers again, but they press harder around my neck. My pulse pounds in my ears until they drown out the stream of words tumbling from his mouth.
It’s good to know that your fingernails can be used as a deadly weapon if it comes down to it.
I claw out at Aerok’s face. My nails drag against his skin, collecting flesh as they pass. He jerks his head away and releases his hold of my throat. I crash to the floor. My breaths come in rapid waves, but I crawl backward and jump to my feet. Tingling fingers seize the dagger from my belt.
With the back of his hand, he wipes the blood from his face. His lips curl into a sick smile and he takes a step toward me. I take a step back.
I roll the dagger between my fingers. “I’ll give you one chance, Aerok. One chance to surrender and I’ll grant you mercy for your crimes.” By mercy, I mean a quick death with minimal pain. I keep this clarification to myself, though.
He grins, steadily reducing the distance between us. My body tenses, but I stand my ground. His eyes glance at my dagger. “You are in no position to bargain. You must have forgotten that the guards are now at my command. While I admire your courage,”—he runs a hand through his hair and smooths it back into place—“unfortunately, you lack the resources to follow through with any threat. You are but one woman—a girl, playing in a man’s world.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from lashing out. I can’t let him charge my emotions. Instead, I clear my throat. “Do you hear that?” I pause and tilt my head. He turns his ear toward the door. The uproar that has finally drifted toward us. His brow raises and I continue. “I have men outside who are taking the castle as we speak.” Honestly, I don’t know for sure, but I ride my wave of confidence. “It’s only a matter of time before you lose all you’ve worked so hard to steal.” I shoot him a grin. He grimaces. For the first time, his forehead creases with worry, but it fades, and his eyes harden.
He steps forward. “You know, you surprise me, Leona.” I don’t like the way he says my name. “I hadn’t anticipated how good you’d feel in bed.” He draws his bottom lip into his mouth, grinning.
“You disgust me.” A rush of heat warms my cheeks, not from embarrassment, but rage. My skin starts to crawl at the thought of his hands on my body. If anything, he’s just going to make me kill him right now for bringing it up.
He crosses the room toward me gradually, his hands up in front of him. The smile of a maniac is plastered on his face. “I’m just saying, maybe you’ve found your calling. Once I get a couple of heirs from you, perhaps we can secure a position for you at a brothel—”
“Fuck you.”
His face splits into a smile. “Already did that, remember? Or, do you need a refresher?”
It’s taking all my strength to not let loose and dig my dagger into his face. Then again, what am I waiting for? Aerok doesn’t deserve the privilege of a trial. I already know he is guilty. So, what’s stopping me from ending him now? Hesitation ruined me last time.
He’s trying to get into my mind and I’m letting him. I shake my head to rid myself of the poisonous thoughts.
His movements blur in front of my face and he knocks the dagger from my hand. It clashes to the floor and slides toward the bed. He tries to grab my arms, but I squeeze free from his grip, pivoting on my foot to get out of dodge. His feet pound the floor as he lurches toward me. My hands fly out in a panic and my fingertips find a metal candelabra. I swing it at his head, the flames blowing out from the action. He ducks backward but I manage to clip his jaw. He staggers, almost loses his balances, and bumps into the nearby table.
I take the reprieve and dive onto the floor toward the dagger. I will not stop until he is dead. This ends tonight.
My arms stretch, farther than physically possible, as I strain to reach the blade. Just as I have a hold on the handle, Aerok grabs my ankle, pulling me toward him. His fingernails dig into my skin. I kick frantically to free myself, but he has a strong hold. I twist and pull myself up then swing the dagger at him. The tip catches his cheek. He curses and releases my ankle, his hand shooting up to his face. More blood flows in ribbons down his face. A few inches below and it could’ve been his throat.
I get to my feet. My palms are sweaty, but I hold onto the dagger like it’s my salvation. I lunge at him, my eyes focused on death. I aim the dagger at his head. He reaches up to stop me and catches the blade in his palm. A river of red streams down his forearm and drips to the floor from his elbow. His eyes are bleak and jaw is clenched. He doesn’t scream out in pain even though I’m sure it hurts. His fist connects with my jaw. Air rushes out of my lungs, but I absorb the ache. Colton taught me how to channel pain and use it to fuel aggression. It’s a mind game, I guess. Even though the punch sends me flying backward, I refuse to let go of the dagger again. So, it ends up ripping out of his hand from the impact.
I find my footing and charge at him. I’m a bull let loose and all I see is red. He takes a defensive stance, spreading his feet wide and sitting back on his heels. Right before I reach him, I drop to the ground and slide between his legs, letting the dagger cut into his calf as I travel. His legs wobble and he tries to turn around to face me. I explode from the floor and sink the blade into the softest part of his lower back. I drive it in three, four times. My adrenaline makes everything a haze.
His legs buckle and give out on him, but he refuses to give up. His hands are pressed against the floor, ten fingers splayed out, as he struggles to stand. One foot, then the other. A bloody hand print smears under the shuffle of his feet. I stand back, eyes wide, as he faces me. Blood seeps out of the corner of his mouth, but the anger in his eyes remain. His breathing is labored. He’s always been a persistent son of a bitch.
I circle around him, breathing hard myself, as his clothes stain red. A surprising sight from his usual spotless style. He watches me. His mouth opens and closes, but his words are lost. So, I speak.
“I’ve never been keen to killing. You know this, yeah?” I twist the dagger in my hand. It’s covered in his blood. “But thanks to you, I found the beauty in it. There’s a freedom that comes with extinguishing a person who wants to cause you harm. Surely, you’ve experienced this feeling during warfare?” I pause. He doesn’t answer. His body grows weaker with each second he fights the inevitable. “I’m going to kill you, Aerok. I’ve thought about making it as humane as possible. But then—” I laugh, mostly to myself. He just looks on in horror, the only thing he has the energy to do. “Why should I extend that courtesy to you? You’re an animal—a flea-ridden, rabies-infested dog.”
Aerok falls to his knees and holds at his stomach. In the candlelight, his eyes shift into an expression that looks unfamiliar on him. I squint as though it’d help me recognize it better. Is that fear? I smile, delighted at what I see before me. I’m not crazy. This is justice.
I crouch so we’re at eye level. He moves his lips to speak but the words are incomprehensible. His language is drowned by the blood filling his mouth. I lean in.
“What was that?” I whisper.
Another string of gurgled speech. His breathing is getting shallower.
I purse my lips. “Oh, no… you’re fading. We’ll need to hurry this up, then.” I press my palm against his chest and shove. He tries to lift his arms up, but they fall limp to his side. He topples backward and I straddle him. His body seizes underneath me. “Hold on,” I tell him. “Just a few more minutes.”
I grab at his shirt and use the dagger to cut it open. His bare skin is already losing the heat in his veins. There’s still a slight rise and fall as he breathes, and that’s all I require. I lean forward, staring as I touch the tip of the dagger to his chest. I press until I draw blood. He tries to scream but it comes out as a muffled mess, like yelling under the sea. I drag the blade across his skin in a few straight lines.
Sometime during this, he stops thrashing and his body goes still. I even think I hear a gasp as his lungs exhale their last breath.
I stand and look over his dead body. His eyes are stuck on the chandelier above. His lower face is painted red. Crimson fingers hang from his open mouth.
My racing heart declines into an easy rhythm as my adrenaline finishes running its course. I’m left with only one thought circling my mind.
I have never felt so alive.
Colton
The castle has erupted in chaos. Man against man, each side fighting for the success of an opposing leader.
Merethe and I race through the castle, dodging the clusters of guards who have arrived from the barracks. When we near the throne room, two guards come out of it and block our path. Their swords are drawn. I take on one of the guards, our swords clashing together. The sound of metal pierces and echoes into the room. I glance over as the other guard deflects Merethe’s arrow with his sword.
I sweep my leg at my guard’s feet. His hand jets out and catches a tapestry hung on the wall. It loosens from the brackets and plummets to the floor with him. Once he’s down, he tries to appeal to my sense of leniency. I have none. I run my sword through his chest, ignoring the cries from his disloyal mouth. After both guards are dealt with, Merethe and I continue.
We’ve been searching everywhere for Leona. I’m left to the mercy of Merethe’s direction since she’s far more accustomed to the castle’s layout.
“This way.” She points toward a darkened corridor.
“We’ve already checked that one.” I groan and pull at the hair on my nape. “You’re leading us in circles.”
“No, I’m not.” She cocks her head. “Look—see that portrait? I would’ve remembered seeing it before.” She stands with her hip jutted out.
I look at the portrait. It displays some dark-haired man with too sharp of angles in his face. He doesn’t look realistic. The colors are dull, and dust settles on the edge of the frame. We’ve already spent enough time scouring the halls in vain. No sense in wasting more time arguing.
I nod. “Fine. Let’s go.” I follow her down the corridor.
A sinking feeling nags at the back of my mind. What if we’re too late? What if Leona failed and Aerok has already killed her? She seemed so confident, saying how it wouldn’t be wise for him to harm her. Something about how she’s worth more to him alive than dead. But still, she couldn’t have guaranteed her safety. Anything could’ve happened. She’s so stubborn and reckless.
We pass a balcony that overlooks the grand entryway. Bodies lay motionless, all of which are guards who have paid for choosing the wrong side.
“Come on,” Merethe whispers over her shoulder. I pull myself from the banister and catch up with her.
We each take a side of the corridor, peeking our heads into the rooms lining the walls. No activity.
“By the way,” I begin, “thanks for your help earlier.”
She glances at me, a slow grin pulling at her lips. “Probably pained you to say that, huh?”
I roll my eyes and continue checking rooms. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’d likely be dead if she hadn’t shown up. My eyes scan a room with floor to ceiling shelves of supplies. A pantry. “You know, most people would’ve just said you’re welcome. Why’d you do it?”
She’s quiet for a moment. I shut the pantry door and look across the corridor. She’s gone. My body tenses and I grip my sword tighter. Just as I lift my foot, she pops out of the room she was checking.
“Sorry. Thought she was in there, but it was a few of the servants hiding until all the madness dies down.” She shuts the door. “They did tell me that they heard screaming from the bedchambers, though.”
She starts moving toward the end of the corridor, then pauses and flashes me a smile. “Oh, and I did it because even though I don’t know Leona all that well, she’s still my sister, and she likes you. So, I figured I should probably not let you die.” She doesn’t wait for a response from me before she’s sprinting around the corner.
Her words drive me further to find Leona. I take off in a dash behind her. When we finally reach the corridors with the bedchambers, we don’t hear anything. No screaming. No disturbance. It’s almost as though the dark walls have absorbed the agony of whatever has happened down here. There’s a strange prickling on the back of my neck. I rub it away and get to work checking each room. Eight rooms so far, and each one turns up empty. They don’t even appear to have been used for quite some time. Perfect silk sheets pulled taut on smooth wooden bed frames. It must be nice to live in such luxury.
There’s one more door at the end of the corridor. An outline of a person comes out of it. The dim lighting makes it hard to see anything other than a shadowy figure. I grip my sword tighter, intent on cutting him down. It’s when they step forward out of the darkness that I see it is Leona.
I loosen my fingers and the sword falls to the floor with a clang. I quickly close the distance between us, pulling her to my chest. Tension eases away when her arms wrap around my waist. I lower my head and let my nose rest in the crown of her hair, savoring the familiar sweet scent.
I pull back, taking her head in my hands. Mottled patches of red and purple cover her face. Dried blood marks her cheek. Through the swelling, she is still beautiful. “Are you okay?” I whisper.
She smiles weakly. I gently touch a finger to her bruised lip. I lean down and kiss it, once, twice, just to make sure she’s really here. My eyes fall on the blood covering her dress in red splotches.
“Where are you hurt?” I scan her body for wounds.
She shakes her head and struggles to find her voice. “I’m fine. This isn’t my blood.”
I tilt my head. “Whose is it, then?”
“I’m going to bet that it’s his.” Merethe’s voice carries from the bedchamber Leona came out of. For a minute, I’d forgotten the golden-haired girl was even with me.
My hand slips into Leona’s and I start toward the room. There’s some resistance from her, but she follows me in.
; I’m taken by surprise by the size of the bedroom. Much larger than any of the other rooms I’ve checked so far, my home in Maburh could fit inside of here twice over. My eyes shift from the tall ceilings to Merethe as she stands over Aerok’s body. I’d never seen him up close like this. He’s shorter than I expected. The whites of his eyes are the color of dirty water. He gazes up into the air above him, his pupils no longer able to focus on anything in particular. A puddle of blood spreads out on the floor around him.
I glance at Leona. Her eyes fall to the floor in what looks like shame. I give her hand a brisk pump and pull her so she leans into me.
“Damn.” Merethe draws a hand over Aerok’s eyes, shutting them from the world. “So, since this asshole’s dead, all of the mayhem should be over, right?” She and I both look to Leona for the answer.
Leona raises her head from my arm. She clears her throat and stands up straight. “I hope so. It seems like Aerok was calling all the shots, but the Council was in his pocket. I don’t know if one of them will try to seize power once they find out Aerok is dead.”
“Guess we better go seize it first, yeah?” Merethe turns to walk toward the door. “Let’s go.”
Before I turn to leave, I catch a symbol carved into Aerok’s chest. It’s covered in blood, but it reminds me of one of the constellations in the sky. Leona notices me staring.
“Come on,” she urges, pulling at my hand.
I follow her out the door and toward the promise of a brighter tomorrow.
Leona
Yellows and reds bleed into the night sky as dawn approaches. Inch by inch, the castle grounds stumble out of darkness, revealing the aftermath of our revolution. The grass is covered in a murky sheen of blood and dewdrops. There’s a shift in the air.
I survey the area, stepping over loose limbs as I do. Two separate groups form the deceased. Those who stood against me now lie in layers on a cart to be hauled away. The bodies are a tangled mess of arms and legs. Empty faces peek out in random spots in the pile. Graying eyes and open mouths, the expression of death.