by Ella Fields
I’d left him sound asleep, dressed in a gown that had been draped over the armchair with my sword, then I’d grabbed my boots, and had woken the others.
Duty could no longer wait, and I had a shit list the size of an entire kingdom that needed tending to.
The heart had no say when it came to responsibility. It would only get in the way.
Zad had a dead wife he refused to talk about, let alone allow himself to love that completely again. And I had a dead heart that I refused to let rule my decisions ever again.
No matter what it hungered for, it had to remain that way.
All thanks to the husband of mine who sat sick with mismatched memories in my dungeon.
A crazed laughter echoed across the landscape as my hands plucked at the damp grass. I had to wonder what I’d been thinking, really, when stealing him from his new life like that.
I’d believed I could handle the consequences, that I was equipped to deal with the repercussions.
A young female prone to tantrums indeed.
I opened my eyes and brushed away a rogue tear, smearing it into the cashmere and cotton of my skirts. There was no time for tears. There was never a time for tears. Time was a thief that would keep draining us dry if we didn’t learn to stay afloat and swim above its paralyzing waters.
Van snickered and turned his head, his breath steaming the air beside my face.
Looking over at him, I found his eyes fixed on my ruined skin. The burns had healed, but the scars would remain.
I stroked his snout. “They will pay.”
He blinked, impossibly huge eyes drinking in my face.
“Quit looking at me like that.”
He huffed and bumped my hand with his nose, then returned to the grass, licking the frost from the blades before deciding to nibble at them.
We returned to his stables before the sun could reach the highest peak, and then I trudged back down the mountain. I’d wanted to give Wen a rest after his ordeal in the forest as well as our journey back home yesterday. Besides, I’d needed the crisp air on my face, its icy kiss brushing every strand of my hair, curling the ends.
The pathway down the mountain—little more than hollowed out soil between rocks—wound all the way to the rear gardens. I let my fingers traipse over gleaming petals. Plucking a rose, I dragged my finger over one of its thorns, watching the groundskeepers bob in and out of the maze-like gardens behind the castle.
Had they wished I’d perished when they heard news of what’d happened to me? Had some small part of them hoped that my husband would break out of the dungeon and save them all?
Paranoia was a beast planted by past transgressions and other people’s own insecurities.
I would question, but I wouldn’t falter from my own loathsome thoughts. No, I’d wrap them around me like an ice-layered blanket and let them reinforce my will.
My finger pricked the thorn, and I dragged it down the stem as I reached the keep.
Mintale came rushing outside, blathering about a healer who’d been waiting to see me for the past two hours.
I took in his pale, lined face, the tufts of gray hair I used to tug as a child just to hear his mock-screech.
“You’re bleeding, my lady,” Mintale said, his eyes on my finger.
I blinked and lifted it to my mouth, tasting the metallic tang as it coated my tongue. Releasing my finger with a pop, I said, “Have the prisoners chained in market square before dawn.”
Mintale nodded.
“What of the others? The vanisher?”
“Nothing yet, but we have our spies and best soldiers searching the kingdom as we breathe.”
“Bring the vanisher to me. I want the others killed on sight.” Before he could scamper off, I called, “Oh, and have the girl shackled and fetched from the tavern.” I smiled at his furrowed brows. “Let her have a taste of what awaits.”
From the highest turret, I watched as dawn leaked across the horizon, inching over the sloping city and valleys below.
There, within the flat center of market square, two bodies were chained to thick, towering posts. I could almost see Corra’s brown hair swirl around her face and felt the singe anew to my own when I gazed at Cid’s tall form next to her.
Were they scared?
My nails, buffed and painted crimson to match my lips, scraped over the rough stone wall. Tap, tap, tapping to the sound of the executioner’s bell that blared six times, loud enough for the entire kingdom to hear. Every resident knew what it meant.
There was a time, however brief, when the sound of the six haunting chimes would chase my dreams into nightmares as a child.
When my father had overheard my mother hushing me back to sleep one night, he’d plucked someone from the dungeon and dragged me out of bed at dawn the following morning.
“Listen,” he’d said, walking me to the square. “They’re a warning. A final beating of one’s heart. A reminder. And one of your greatest weapons.”
“A weapon?” I’d squeaked.
His hands had gripped my shoulders, his voice riddled with that crazed excitement that sometimes scared me. “Yes, yes. A weapon.” Another squeeze, then he’d pointed at where a body was being lifted into the air. “The sound of the six bells are enough to send a stake of fear through any foe’s heart. Believe me, they are your friend, your protector, and your enforcer, all wrapped in six deadly chimes.”
I’d swallowed as we reached the thickest part of the crowd, and he’d moved me closer to the wooden dais that was smattered with speckles of brown stains.
The scent of excrement hung thick in the air. It made my stomach churn and my nose twitch. My eyes lifted, and my spine locked as a man with clay-colored eyes gazed down upon me, muttering, “Please, please, please…”
“Father,” I’d started.
“Quiet,” he snapped. “Watch. If I see your eyes leave the sentenced, I will pick another to hang. Perhaps one of the children who are still sleeping in their beds.”
I’d have given anything to still be sleeping in my own bed. To be able to look away as a guard pulled a lever and the snap of the man’s neck had ricocheted through the square.
His soul fled his eyes, and I swore I felt a cold breeze dust my right hand before the crowd began to part, and he was left there to hang.
“Good,” my father had said, his hands so heavy on my shoulders, and my knees trembling so hard, I prayed to the goddesses’ that I wouldn’t fall. “Now, was that anything to be afraid of?” He shook my shoulders when I didn’t answer.
But my stomach heaved. So violently I’d coughed, then swallowed the rising bile. “No, Father.” I forced my eyes back to the dead man. Forced them to see it for what it was.
Flesh and bone and deceit.
And those who deceive the crown in any way, shape, or form must be dealt with accordingly.
“They’re waiting for you,” Azela said now.
I turned from the wall, my hands stiff and my nails ruined as though I’d dug them into the stone and mortar.
Azela looked from them to me, her eyes narrowing. “Are you okay?”
I tugged my white fur-lined black cloak tighter around me, brushing past her. “Just fine. Any news on Ainx?”
“Not yet, no.”
We descended the stairs, around and around until we’d reached the ground entrance, then crossed through the throne room to the courtyard. “Why did you return with me?”
“You are my queen.” It was said as if it should’ve been reason enough. And perhaps it should have been.
“He needs you, and you’re clearly worried.” I peered over at her as we met with the rest of my guards. They took their positions around us, and we moved to the gates. “You should go back.”
Azela was slow to answer, her blond hair whispering over her cheeks as the wind groaned and swept through the side streets to greet us. “He and I…” She stopped, and I withheld a groan. “We’re not—”
“I’m no fool.” Guards philandering with other
guards was not permitted during my father’s reign. Frolicking off duty was fine, but relationships beyond that would have them exiled or hung. “I’m also not my father.”
Azela’s teeth clicked as she shut her mouth.
“But I am a queen, and I don’t like false truths any more than he did.”
The gathered city dwellers parted as we neared, and gradually, Corra and Cid came into view. There were enough guards surrounding the dais on all sides, shields and weapons at the ready, to keep unwanted vigilantes at bay. Rare, but it sometimes happened. Though not often, seeing as it landed them in the same spot as those who were being executed.
Two guards dipped their heads and parted. I walked through them toward the dais and smiled at my two would-be captors and Casilla. The latter was tied to a chair behind the dais, a gag in her mouth and her face blank. “Good morning, friends.”
Corra frowned.
Cid laughed. “Save the theatrics, you piece of evil—”
His words were drowned by his howl, the small blade that’d been tucked inside my sleeve now imbedded above his groin. Dangerously close to his genitals.
The crowd grew thicker, murmurs and gasps exploding.
Spittle dribbled from Cid’s lips, and Corra moaned. “We gave you the merchant’s name and t-the guard.”
I tilted my head. “Did I just hear you stutter?”
Corra gritted her teeth, lifting her chin as much as her chained body would allow.
“Secure them,” I told the guards standing behind the dais.
Four of them moved forward and bound their heads to the poles with metal chains strung through their teeth.
My magic groaned as I clenched and unclenched my fists. I’d woken it early and had it flex its limbs, readying for the task. The air changed, growing charged as the guards slashed open the soles of Corra’s and Cid’s feet, and the wind gathered speed.
Their muted screams barely registered as I told myself to wait, to hold on, until the guards had moved back into the crowd.
Then I entered, a slow crawling wind that slithered through their pores, the gashes in their feet, their noses, their eyes, their mouths, and their arteries. I pushed. Blood began to pool as their eyes fissured and rolled, falling in tiny splats to the wood of the dais, sliding between the cracks to the street below.
Casilla sat eerily still, her expression still unreadable as her eyes watched the blood vacate Corra’s and Cid’s bodies.
No one dared to so much as whisper during a draining. It was the most torturous and inhumane way to die for our kind. Not because it was the most painful—I’d heard and guessed it was most certainly horrific—but because whether you were human or royal or both, your soul was left to rot inside your empty corpse instead of reaching the ever. A kingdom of eternal peace, rest, and riches.
They would forever walk the in-between, forced to stay trapped within the unknown, accompanied by their boundless sins.
When the metal chains around their heads gleamed with froth from their mouths and slackened, I knew it was almost done. Any moment now, the thread that bound my magic to their bodies would snap, indicating an empty vessel. Nothing left to play with.
My body hummed a steady, content timbre as it pushed and coaxed and forced the life from their bodies through their feet. In my mind, their blood was once a rushing river, and I sent it all flowing downstream to meet a cliff to nowhere.
Then I blinked, my stiff limbs slowly relaxing.
The silence could have cut sharper than any blade. I ignored it and turned to Mintale when I saw the top halves of Cid’s and Corra’s bodies begin to deflate, bone crumbling and muscle eroding.
“See that they remain here until nightfall.”
Mintale gave a brisk nod. “Of course, my queen.”
Azela and the rest of my appointed guards escorted me back to the castle, where I returned to the highest turret to watch the ever-stunned, murmuring crowds dissipate.
“Majesty,” Mintale said, hurrying after me.
“What?” I asked, not slowing my stride as I bypassed the throne room and took the outer hallways to the farthest one in the castle.
“Where are you going?”
I couldn’t keep the bite from my tone if I tried. “To finish this.”
Mintale stopped. “Audra.”
The use of my name, a rarity I hadn’t heard from him in years, had me stopping too. I spun to face him.
Concern etched his features, deepening the lines on his forehead. “You don’t really want to do that, though, do you?”
“What I want holds no weight in this situation.” I steeled my spine and turned on my heel. “I’ve done what I wanted with him, and now it’s time to keep my word.”
He said nothing else as I walked on, but I could feel his worry seeping into my back and sinking beneath my cloak until I’d joined the connecting hall and disappeared from view.
I did have to keep my word. Not only that, but I couldn’t see any other way to end this.
I’d let him go. I’d allowed him to live his new life, and it hadn’t worked. Not for me.
And I wasn’t sure if I could have Truin mess with his mind like that again without doing serious damage.
My chest hurt with every step taken down into the dark innards of the castle.
He’d betrayed me in many unforgivable ways, yet with every inch closer, it grew harder to draw breath.
Few guards were on duty in the dungeon now that the other two guests we’d had were husks in market square. I nodded to Didra and Alya, and ignored the curiosity lingering on their faces as they unlocked the gate and let me in.
My boots hit the ground with barely a sound as I took my time approaching his cell. He heard them anyway and looked up from where he was seated on the floor with his head leaning against the bars. Darkness pillowed his forest green eyes, and the stubble that’d coated his jawline was thicker, almost a beard.
His gaze dipped over me, then moved back to my mouth. “What happened?”
I propped myself against the torture table and fiddled with one of the cuffs. “Concerned now, are we?”
Raiden stood, gripping the bars. “Audra, look at me.”
Refusing to, I instead stared at the tear running through his tunic. Scratches and dried blood marred his skin, and I wondered if maybe he’d been injuring himself during moments of abstract confusion. “Take a seat,” I said and lifted myself to the table. “We have a story to finish.”
“I know how it ends.”
I clicked my tongue. “I don’t believe you.”
A clang sounded as he smacked the bars. “Damn it, Audra. Just look at me.” I could hear his shallow breathing. “I’ve been asking for you for days. I remember it. All of it. Where have you been?” Those last words hinted at desperation, and desperate he would be.
“You’re insane.” I inspected my chipped nails, then dragged them over the table. “You flip flop between clarity, anger, and confusion.”
“I’ve thought of nothing but who I am, who I really am, for days. But you haven’t been here, and someone has clearly hurt you.” A growl left him. “Shit, Audra. Just damn well tell me already.”
Fine. “I was taken by some of your people.”
“Our people?”
I laughed at that, studying the white lines my nails carved into the wood. “No, they will never be our people.” I looked at him then, let him see the unrest that laid upon my soul and this kingdom. “They wish me dead, and it only grows worse.”
Raiden’s head was shaking. “It’s because of Tyrelle. You need to let me out. Let me help you.” I tore away from the vehemence in his eyes and ignored the way it deepened his voice. “You can kill me after if it still means so much to you.”
I was beginning to believe that maybe he was of sound mind once more. That he was back.
But to believe was to hope, and hope was nothing but a wasted four letter word.
I licked at the scar running through the side of my lips. “The days of
me trusting you were over long ago, Prince.”
“King,” he said. “I am a king. Your king.”
I sneered. “And what of your betrothed?”
He bounced his head off the bars in my peripheral. “I don’t know this Casilla. It’s like there’s this dream version of me, and every time I try to visit that place, I slip between the two again and grow confused. I can’t…” He stopped and then began to pace, tugging at his thick dark hair. “Not yet, not until I’ve grasped enough control of my own mind.”
“Very well,” I said, uncaring. “Let’s end this then. After Zadicus, the few surviving guards and myself returned to the kingdom, the hunt for you and your merry band of traitors began…”
“No.”
Rearing back, I arched my brows. “No?”
He rubbed his chin, his laugh crisp and low. “It’s my turn.”
Raiden
I was happy. Quite possibly the happiest I’d ever been in my entire life.
Even with Tyrelle seated across from me, that malice-filled glint in his eyes as he stared upon us didn’t bother me as it once had.
This had always been the plan. From the very start, we were to infiltrate the Moon Kingdom via marriage and then remove its black heart.
The games, the cruelty that had spread far and wide—it needed to stop. King Tyrelle’s rule was unjust and wicked, and he only grew in strength and cruelty as the years sped by.
The first time I met my future wife, she was fucking another male in the fields. If that hadn’t cemented what I was there to do, I wasn’t sure what else could. But even then, mere minutes after he’d no doubt spilled his seed inside her, she’d managed to make me forget for a few breathless heartbeats.
They say she’s the most beautiful creature in all the land.
To that I would say beauty meant nothing when they’re rotten on the inside.
I quickly learned just how rotten she could be. A brat with too much unchecked power, unspent anger, and unshed grief. But oh, how I’d learned of other things too.
Nothing was ever as it seemed, and there were no truer words for Allureldin’s princess.