by Kova, Elise
“Princess, soon to be Empress…” Vi looked up over top of her white-knuckled hands. “I shall not abandon my post before your throne, on this day or any to come. I am loyal to you, and any actions I take are an extension of that loyalty.”
“What have you seen?” Fiera asked. “Tell me. I am burdened by the sight as well, and accustomed to living with its revelations. You do not need to shoulder this truth alone.”
“There will be an attack during your ceremony.”
“Who else have you told?”
“No one,” Vi lied easily, and Fiera believed it without question.
“Not even Zira?”
“I need her to act without knowing.”
“I see.” Vi actually believed she did. “What do you need from me, then?”
“Faith. Trust.”
“You have had those from the first moment I laid eyes on you,” Fiera said softly. It was a gift Vi still didn’t feel she’d earned, but was grateful to have.
“When the moment comes, trust me to protect you.”
Fiera nodded just as their conversation was interrupted by the door opening. Lord Ophain stood in its frame. He was dressed in deep crimson finery from head to toe, a heavy silver pendant around his neck that Vi recognized as the mark of the Lord of the West.
“Dear sister, it’s time,” he said gently, walking over. Vi stood and stepped out of the man’s way, allowing him to take both of Fiera’s hands. Ophain was accustomed to servants and guards in his presence; he didn’t so much as look at her twice. “Are you ready to do this?”
“I am,” Fiera said with a small smile. “There is only happiness and love ahead. The war is done, and this shall put it to rest.”
The fight for Fiera’s life was only just beginning. But Vi said nothing as they left, arm in arm. She slipped out through the side door and joined the masses gathered to watch the first Empress Solaris be crowned.
It had become difficult to walk in the great room of the cathedral. People had filled it to the point of pressing against the guards on the outer ring. Vi looked for the faces of the men and women she’d seen earlier. She sought out people she might know. Some she was certain she recognized, others she was certain she didn’t. But her recognition or lack thereof was not a reliable measure for traitors. Vi could thank Jayme for that lesson.
Soft gasps and murmurs distracted her when she was halfway through her first sweep. Vi jerked her head upward, toward what was stealing everyone’s attention. Fiera had entered and, at the same time, the Emperor made his grand entrance from the upper doorway in the dome. As Fiera walked, her gold-trimmed train stretched behind her in equal measure as the Emperor’s golden cape.
They made their way to each other in the center of the room. There, in an outer circle, was a row of soldiers. After that, a row of Crones, Fiera’s sisters, and Zira.
“My lords and ladies of the West, our esteemed guests from the South and East, I welcome you all to this most joyous occasion,” Ophain’s voice boomed as they reached the middle of the chamber. “It is my honor as Lord of the West to present my sister to our Emperor so they might be joined in marriage.” Ophain presented the hand of his sister to Tiberus.
“Eons ago,” the head Crone began to speak, wasting no time. “The Father lived in a land of eternal night. It was in that darkness that he met the Mother. She was a brilliant star…”
Vi tuned out the ceremonial storytelling. Her eyes continued to scan the crowd, even more attentive as she positioned herself directly behind Fiera. Deneya would defend Zira, and from this vantage Vi would get a look at the attacker if she was lucky. But her vision hadn’t shown her the aftermath of the attack, and Vi would be ready for whatever came.
“The Mother watches over us, bringing life and joy. The Father watches over our timelessness, seeing us safely into the lands beyond.” The head Crone produced a long red ribbon from inside her robes. It was the same one Vi had run back to the castle for earlier. She pushed forward into the crowd, ignoring the glares and rude gestures of those around her. “From our births to our deaths, we are bound to the plans they have laid. We walk the red lines they have given us.”
Not if I have something to say about it, Vi silently added. She was the one who could change those red lines—if she was bold and brave enough.
“By this, it is not for us to question those who are called to each other, just as it is no more our place to question those called to greatness. To do so would be an affront to the divine.”
Vi heard the scoff of a man to her left. She looked in his direction. He murmured something to another gentleman beside him. Vi stepped through the crowd, squeezing through an opening to get closer to the man. The ripple effect of shifting people caught his attention.
Their eyes met and he gave her a thin smile before looking forward again. The other man he’d been whispering to shuffled through the standing masses. Vi caught only a glimpse of the back of his head. Luke?
“Princess Fiera Ci’Dan, daughter of the last King of Mhashan, may the Mother bless you with the greatness of her warmth.” The Crone carefully laid the ribbon, looping it over the couple’s joined hands. Vi looked between them and the man who had vanished into the crowd. She couldn’t go chasing after him. She had to stay close to Fiera; the time was near. “Emperor Tiberus Solaris, first Emperor of this great land, chosen by the sun, may the Father bless you with his resolution.”
The Crone carried on with her blessings, wrapping their hands with each one. At the same time, Vi worked her way through the mass of people, pushing bodies aside when they refused to move. She was right behind Fiera as she and Tiberus recited their vows to each other.
For a brief moment, the world was calm. Happy, even. Fiera smiled brightly as she promised to be the Emperor’s, to honor him, to serve him, to hold him to a standard befitting an Emperor of all, for all. The Emperor nearly teared up as he promised the same—that he was hers, that he would love and cherish her, that she would forever be the brightest ray of the Solaris sun.
The future was hopeful in that breathtaking minute. And Vi witnessed the first glimpse that told her, beyond all doubt, this unlikely couple had come together to be greater than the sum of their parts.
Then the Crone spoke again: “The Mother bestowed on Mhashan a weapon to guard us all.” Zira unsheathed the sword. “May your love be as strong as this blade, as unyielding as its edge. And, should she above bless this union, may her fire touch the fate that binds you both.”
The Crone stepped back as Zira raised the sword above her head. Movement caught Vi’s eye. Zira dramatically lowered the weapon over top their joined hands. Vi sank into her legs, ready to spring. Women around her wept tears at the ceremony’s beauty. Vi readied herself to kill.
Fire ignited between the ribbon and the blade, burning it away as ash. Vi held her breath as Zira lifted the sword. This was it. This was the moment she died.
Instead, like the fire that burned in the sculpted brazier above the center of the room—flames erupted at Fiera’s back, igniting chaos in the crowd.
Chapter Sixteen
Zira screamed, stumbling forward.
Vi launched herself forward as well, pushing a Crone and Princess Tina out of the way to barge into the inner circle of the wedding ceremony. Zira’s back was singed, her clothes hanging by threads. But for the time being, she was very much alive.
People began to move, the crowd rumbling as if the earth itself trembled beneath them.
“Everyone stay back!” Vi shouted at the top of her lungs. She reached for the head Crone, pushing the elderly woman away. Vi spun, grabbing Zira and pulling her toward her, Fiera, and Tiberus in the same moment.
“How dare—” the Emperor grumbled. Before he could finish, Vi conjured a thin wall of flame with a thought. It burned white-hot and towered above them, nearly touching the bottom of the stone basin the statue was holding aloft in the dome above.
“It’s an assassination attempt.” Vi glared at Tiberus. “Keep yo
ur wife safe and don’t move.”
Sweat dotted his brow, but the Emperor kept silent, the reality of the situation sinking in. He clutched Fiera to him, so tightly that Vi couldn’t make eye contact.
“Zira, stay here and protect the sword.”
“I can fight,” the woman insisted, pain turning her voice into a snarl.
“You’re hurt and—”
“Mother above I will turn this sword on you if you don’t let me at the bastard who did this!”
“Fine.” Vi was grinning like a fool. As if this was something she wanted. Something she enjoyed. “Fiera, you guard the sword.”
“It has always been my duty.” Fiera pushed the Emperor away enough to take the sword from Zira’s hands. She looked the least frightened of them all. The only thing that filled her dark eyes was the light of Vi’s flames, and absolute trust that Vi had only ever seen one other time—in the eyes of the men and women who had followed Fiera into battle that night.
“Ready?” Zira asked over the crackle of flames.
“Take this.” Vi quickly drew her sword, handing it to the woman.
“What about you?”
“I’ll find—”
A sword sliced through the wall of fire, nicking the Emperor’s side. He yowled in pain and turned with a growl. Blood stained his hip red, but it wasn’t a fatal wound.
“We’ve wasted enough time.” Vi grabbed Zira’s hand and pushed an opening into the fire, just wide enough for them to slip through, before closing it once more. They ran head-first into a man on the way out.
Head over heels, the three of them tumbled. Vi rolled, stomping feet around her crushing her back and ribs as the panicked masses fled. Grunting, she pushed herself off the floor, flames following her every movement, sending those who would run into her away in burning pain.
“Mysst soto larrk.” A sword appeared in Vi’s palm, her flames masking the strands of light and glyphs that condensed into the weapon. In the back of her mind she continued to focus on the wall of fire protecting Fiera and the Emperor; at all costs, she’d maintain it.
That brought her attention back to the barrier. Three men were slashing at it blindly, getting as close to the flames as they dared. They must think the wall of fire was Fiera’s and that the princess was the one to kill to see it undone.
A dark delight filled her at the notion. This was becoming too easy.
More fire erupted at her side, identical to the flames at Zira’s back and stealing her attention. Zira pushed the charred man off of her, scrambling to her feet.
“Thank you, a second time.”
She’d thought Vi was behind the fire. “You’re welcome,” Vi said as she rapidly scanned the shifting crowd for where Deneya was firing off juth starys. But the woman had hidden herself well, and Vi brought her attention back to the men slashing for the Emperor and Fiera. “Let’s take care of them.”
“My pleasure.”
They moved in tandem. Vi had been running drills with Zira long enough that she was familiar with how the woman moved. But moreover, she was confident with a sword now. Killing came easily. Vi sliced the first man down without a thought before moving onto the second.
Zira parried another. They fought off the immediate threat with backs to each other in an odd dance of death.
Vi bared her teeth, panting and snarling as she looked across the blood-smeared floor of the cathedral for more threats. Most people were out now, the other conspirators included. They must’ve turned tail when they realized their plan wouldn’t bear fruit.
“We need to follow them!”
“No.” Vi stopped Zira with a straight arm. “You get the Empress and Emperor to safety. Bar up the room she was in earlier. Let no one in but me. I’ll go after them.”
“Yull—”
“This is an order!”
Zira blinked, startled at Vi’s audacity. Vi kept her brow furrowed, lips pursed, and the tension in her muscles the same as when she had been in battle. Zira’s mouth fell open, shock softening her jaw. She closed it with a nod.
Vi released her control of the flames. “Go!”
The Emperor and Empress looked around, dazed. Tiberus blinked several times, no doubt seeing blue from the fire. Fiera was faster to recover, swinging her gaze from Vi to Zira.
“This way.” Zira stepped forward.
If Vi left now, she might have a chance to follow any remaining attackers. It’d be the best opportunity to weed out those who were actively hunting the sword. Vi looked over to the group of royals, nearly at the door.
She wouldn’t leave until they were safely away. Vi tightened her grip around her sword. Zira was still alive. She wasn’t about to see her killed now.
As soon as the door to Fiera’s preparation room closed behind them, however, Vi was off. She raced behind the last of the guests flooding out onto the streets.
“Durroe watt radia,” Vi whispered as she crossed the threshold of the cathedral. When she emerged, it was in a new skin.
Vi swung her head left and right. She decided on the direction where the majority had gone. Moving quickly to catch up with those still fleeing, she listened carefully.
“The new Empress is dead.”
“She’s not dead!”
“They really did it.”
“The Knights actually did it. He pulled it off.”
“He didn’t pull off anything. That was an utter failure.”
Vi spun in place, trying to locate the speakers. She slowed her pace to a walk.
“What do you think they’ll do next?”
“They can’t accomplish anything without the sword.”
Two men were walking into a bar not far from her. Vi stepped lightly behind them, trusting her Lightspinning to prevent them from identifying her.
“I think I know a way they could get it.”
“Shh, you idiot, not on the streets.” The taller of the two men glanced over his shoulder, but his eyes swept over Vi as they hastily entered the bar.
She was quick behind them.
“… him at the warehouse. I think the next meeting is—” Vi caught the last of what the tall man was saying as she entered.
“Excuse me, miss, we’re closed for the day,” the barkeep interrupted abruptly. The two men startled and looked directly at Vi—but what they saw was the face of a random woman who attended the wedding. A woman who, blessedly, neither of them recognized.
“I’m sorry.” Vi put on a thick Western accent. “I got separated from my companions, I didn’t know if they’d come in here.”
“They’re certainly not in here. Closed to mourn the tragedy at our princess’s wedding. Out with you,” the barkeep barked.
Mourn? Or conduct private business? Vi looked between the groups of men, but merely gave a sweet, innocuous smile. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”
With that, Vi left.
The streets were mostly empty as she trudged back to the cathedral. When she ascended the stairs once more, it was as a woman the world knew only as Yullia.
“Using your spinning to conceal yourself like that is clever.” Deneya leaned on a column by the doors, arms folded. “You have other tricks for the words?”
“Maybe. And maybe I’ll show you if you continue to be useful to me.” Vi couldn’t tell if the curve of her mouth was a roguish smile or a more threatening display of teeth. She was in a deadly mood.
“I’m useful enough to keep Zira alive like you asked.” Pushing off the column, Deneya walked over to her. “I also saw who delivered the first blow,” she said in a hushed tone, looking out over the city while Vi stared absently into the cathedral.
“Meet me later in the usual place, then.”
“Usual place?” Deneya groaned. “It’s dark and dull and hard to get to. Let’s go out tonight.”
“It’s secluded and no one will overhear us.” Vi shot her a glare. Deneya just grinned as though her goal all along had been to rile Vi up.
“My office instead? I have their fir
e whiskey, good stuff—”
“Fine.” Vi was beyond arguing. She still had work to do. What they were doing could be a game to Deneya, a fun opportunity to meddle with the affairs of the Dark Isle. But every action had the highest stakes for Vi. “I don’t know when I’ll be there, so you’d better wait.”
“All the more reason to meet in my office.” Deneya strolled down the steps. “I’ll have my books and bottle to keep me company while I wait.”
“Keep your head about you,” Vi called down.
“Won’t be a problem.” She raised a hand, touching the scarf on the side of her head, just where the tops of her ears would be. Elfin. The woman was elfin, Vi realized. That was why she was never without a scarf.
Vi shook her head and went inside, heading right for Fiera’s door. She knocked softly.
“It’s me.” She heard the locks disengage and the door cracked open, Zira brandishing the sword. She relaxed the moment her eyes met Vi’s and opened wide the door.
“You find the bastards?”
“Unfortunately not. They blended into the crowd.” Vi stepped inside, still locking the door behind her. “Is everyone all right?”
“Tiberus is—”
“It is just a nick, do not fret,” he interrupted Fiera. “I’ve had worse out in battle. You, however, will need to see a cleric.”
“You worry for nothing,” Fiera mumbled, glancing askance.
“We’ll arrange for a guarded carriage to take you both back to the castle. There, you can both be looked at by clerics,” Vi said. “And following, we’ll need to discuss protection of the sword going forward.”
“I have every intention of sealing it away.” Fiera shifted in her seat.
“Sealing it away?” Tiberus muttered. “Why seal away a weapon like that, when you could turn it against your enemies?”
That was the last thing Vi wanted. She stepped forward, kneeling before the Emperor and Empress. For a brief second, her breath caught in her throat at the sight of them—a regal couple, young and strong. She was witnessing a moment that even the most skilled painters never could have captured. A moment she should never have witnessed.