by Paris Hansch
“You’re even stronger than I expected.” He drew his sickle and chain, not wasting a moment. “But soon, you’ll be free.”
The weighted end of his chain struck her head with fatal accuracy.
Then, she was falling over the edge of the railing. The impact was freezing. Why was she in the water? Was it even water?
It didn’t matter. It was warm. Her mind began to slip away as her body was carried through the rapids. Air and water encased her in a protective shroud, with no exertion on her part. There was no reason to wake.
For just a moment in her long life, she could be at peace.
13
Chapter Thirteen
Adelia
Adelia stared intently at Mina. It felt like they were witnessing one of her fairy-tales in action—a beautiful princess stolen away from her husband-to-be by his jealous older brother for the throne. And now, there was a chance for a happy ending. There was always some element of danger before the hero prevailed, after all.
Mina seemed to be telling the truth; Adelia couldn’t sense any hint of dishonesty. Elaine had been right, though—she was certainly something else. A princess blessed with the spirit of a dragon god. If there was any doubt before, Adelia was sure that everything she’d read about the dragon gods was true now. By nature, the gods were here to protect them.
But everything was going to change now. No, it had always been this way; she was just never aware of it.
Adelia dropped her gaze to the floor. She felt stupid. Of all the tragedies in Mina’s story, she was most upset about losing her only friend. It wouldn’t be like that on the surface—a princess could easily be seen around a Lady of Anadrieth—but the reality was that Mina had an empire to run, and she couldn’t afford to show favor.
She would be alone again.
Alexander rubbed his face. “I’m such a fool.” He paused. “I don’t know how to make everything up to you, Your Highness. It’s my fault.”
Mina shook her head. “I’ve kept a low profile for a reason. You wouldn’t have recognized me. It’s more than enough that you gave me a place to stay and didn’t kill me or let me die on sight.”
“Why didn’t you die, then?” Anton blurted out. “If you’re human, you shouldn’t have survived. If you’re a god, then—”
“Anton,” snapped Alexander.
Mina held up a hand. “It’s fine. I expect you will all have questions.” She drew one of her swords, placing it gently on the table, and Anton immediately shrank back. “They are called Syravia, dragon tongue for ‘spirit reaper.’ These swords are pieces of my spirit, the dragon of which I am one and the same, yet entirely separate.” She ran her fingertips over the edges of the dragon script. Adelia leaned forward to peer at them.
The beginning and the end.
She frowned. That didn’t make much sense. Perhaps she’d translated it wrong. There was a curious symbol on the hilt, too, like a compass with no directions—something you’d only find on a map.
“The dragon’s spirits are strong. It’s true, he and I share many of their qualities, but we aren’t infallible to steel or other means,” said Mina. “The ancient priestesses bound a piece of our entwined spirits into three swords to take some of the burden, but still, many, like my mother, have been unable to bear it.”
Alexander shook his head. “The official report was that the empress died from the imperial illness, like your father.”
“Of course, it was. A pattern of suicides and assassinations wouldn’t inspire much confidence, but few people understand the truth.” Mina shrugged. “The dragon’s memories span across all of time. When one vessel dies, they are all transferred to the next, along with the dragon’s spirit. A mortal mind cannot handle the sheer extent of hundreds of lifetimes worth of my ancestor’s memories. With all the pressure, my mother couldn’t wait to end her turn, thereby starting the next cycle early.” Mina turned to her and Anton. “I believe you two have experienced some of these memories.”
Adelia blinked. How did she know?
Anton curled the fingers of his bandaged hand. For a moment, he looked so vulnerable. Adelia suddenly wanted to embrace him like old times, but she averted her eyes. Now wasn’t the time to feel sorry for him, not after everything he’d done.
“How can you tell?” Anton mumbled.
“It’s my spirit, Anton. Very few people have come in direct contact with it without dying.”
Alexander nodded, slightly furrowing his brow, an expression that signaled that he didn’t really understand what was going on. He obviously didn’t read enough history to grasp the situation, but that was to be expected. He cleared his throat.
“If you remember everything, all the way back to when the dragon gods rescued humanity, does that mean you’re really, you know…”
Mina narrowed her eyes. “Are you calling me old?”
“No,” said Alexander, a little too loudly. “No. I just meant that you’ve lived for a really long time.” There was a moment of silence as Alexander glanced back and forth between Mina and his siblings, but Adelia certainly wasn’t going to cover for him, and Anton turned up his nose.
Mina cleared her throat. “I can access the memories of those before me, akin to choosing books off a shelf and flipping through the pages, but my personal memories are separate. So, while I am the age that I am, you could technically say I’m over two thousand years old.”
Adelia fiddled with a loose thread on her sleeve. Her age was far from the thing that bothered her. “It’s true, then, that one dragon can’t live without the other? If so, then Lord Yuno’s act would have been…”
“Attempted assassination of the last imperial couple, yes.” Mina shook her head. “I’m not sure where he’s getting his ideas from. Maybe he thinks he’ll inherit the dragon spirits, but that’s just not how it works.” She clenched her fists, staring at each of them in turn. The tension in the room rose, the underlying presence of the dragon spirit like a subtle threat. “Everything has to end this time, do you understand? You have to help me end this and restore balance to the world. All of you.”
“Why?” Adelia whispered. Wasn’t this a good thing, more or less? She and the prince could use their powers to restore balance to the empire, and everything would go back to normal. Mina didn’t need their help when she had the power of the gods on her side.
“I don’t… remember.” For a moment, Mina looked pained. Despair rolled off of her in waves, a sadness that was etched deep into her spirit. It was as though the feeling had grown and festered for far longer than Mina had lived, even taking the dragon’s age into account. Adelia reached out a hand. There was something else going on underneath all of this—something far greater than she could imagine. If she could just understand a little more, maybe she’d be able to help.
Mina pulled back, recomposing herself. “Anyway, we need to focus on the situation at hand.”
Alexander sighed. “All right. Well… we’ve got Lord Yuno wanting you dead, the empire wanting me dead, Lanadrin and Calvera wanting my people dead, an unfulfilled alliance, an unprepared region and the princess herself sitting with us instead of on the throne. If I’m not missing anything, what can we do?”
No one spoke for a few moments.
Adelia fiddled with her thumbs. “I’ll go to Eloria and finish what we started.” She took a deep breath as everyone turned to her. “You two can stay here to prepare our troops for the worst, and then Mina can go to the capital and talk to Prince—”
“No.” Mina’s tone was soft, but her presence was suddenly suffocating. She leaned forward over the table as she pushed her chair back, making an awful screech against the floor. “Let me make this perfectly clear,” she enunciated. “He is the curse upon this world. One I will end.”
Adelia shrank back in her chair. She didn’t understand. It was one thing to have an arranged marriage with someone she’d never met, but he and Mina were childhood friends. What could have happened that was so terrible they couldn’t tal
k anymore? Adelia’s eyes caught Anton’s. Perhaps that situation was more plausible than she thought.
Mina relaxed her stance, and the tension evaporated in an instant. “I need to talk to Lord Reinhardt myself, but I won’t be returning to the capital. I’ll remain here until my reinforcements arrive.” She stood. “Time to go. We’ve got work to do.” She flung the door open and walked out.
“Reinforcements?” Alexander looked hopeful.
“I wouldn’t expect much,” said Anton. “You heard her before. She’s lost her influence in the capital. The army clearly belongs to the Prince Yukiya and Lord Yuno.”
“Maybe she’s not talking about an army.” Adelia gritted her teeth. “She’s helping us, which is more than you’ve ever done and more than we deserve. The evidence is right there in your face, yet you’re still refusing to acknowledge her. The least you can do is shut up.”
“Perhaps we’ve seen different evidence,” Anton snapped back. “Can’t you feel—”
“All right, stop, stop.” Alexander stood between them. “This isn’t the time.”
Adelia’s lip twitched as she turned on him. “And when is?”
“Yeah, I can’t remember the last time we were in a room together for this long,” muttered Anton.
“You are a Lord and Lady of Anadrieth,” said Alexander, his expression hardening. “If you can’t contain your own problems for a later time, this region will fall faster than you can blink.” He pushed past them, following Mina.
“Dragons,” said Adelia under her breath. “That’s the problem, Alexander. You never want to deal with it.”
“Tell me about it.” Anton shook his head. “He’s as stuck up as ever.”
“No kidding. You remember that time he wouldn’t let us play in the snow, even under supervision, because you got hurt that once?”
Anton rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t even our fault. I don’t think we ever got to throw a snowball again.”
Their eyes met, and there was an awkward silence. Anton glanced away and quickly walked out of the room without another word.
Adelia took a few deep breaths. She’d felt something from him for a moment, something other than his usual blank and empty feeling. Was it hope? Or was it sadness? She shook her head, hurrying after them. It wasn’t worth worrying about. There was no way that she could rekindle anything by herself, and she was tired of trying.
She made her way out to the front of the castle, where their soldiers stood in motionless rows, like statues in the snow. They seemed uncertain, though that wasn’t surprising. Mina stood before them with regal confidence, her shoulders back and her eyes holding a calm authority. It suddenly occurred to Adelia that she had always carried herself that way, and she always spoke with intelligence and fairness. She had gone from servant to princess, but she hadn’t changed at all. Adelia shook her head. What a difference a simple title made.
Mina tapped her foot on the ground as she surveyed the men. “I thought I told you to have everyone ready,” she frowned at General Barrett.
The general’s hair was more frazzled than normal, bandages stuck out from underneath his crinkled uniform and the heavy bags under his eyes were dark. He deserved every bit of the humiliation Mina served to him, but Adelia couldn’t help but pity him. There was such conflict in his heart. He couldn’t deny that Mina was well and truly his superior, but his hatred for her seeped out from his aura.
He frowned, the bow in his hand as stiff as a crowcodile’s jaw.
“Your Highness, I assure you all of my men are present and ready for instruction.” The words dripped from his teeth, but she could tell that he was trying his hardest to remain polite. General Barrett was a traditional man, after all, and it was a sign that he acknowledged her rank, which was more than Barrett did for herself and Anton.
Mina sighed, rubbing her temples. “When I said everyone, I meant everyone.” She turned to the assembly. “Soldiers of Anadrieth, you know me as Mina, the servant. However, I have proven my imperial bloodline.” She rested a hand on her swords. “I cannot stop the march against Anadrieth if it is ordered by the capital. And as Anadrieth is by far the weakest of my regions, if defeated, it will indicate you were never strong enough to stand on your own. If you don’t want to be annihilated, you’ll follow what I say.” Mina snapped her fingers at the general. “Assemble the entire household. Now.”
General Barrett’s face was turning red, but to his credit, he left with a curt nod.
There was a commotion at the gates, and a fine carriage rolled into the castle grounds. The soldiers backed out of the way as it barreled straight toward them, halting in front of Mina.
Councilor Raoul squeezed out of the doors, waddling toward her. He bowed with his chin touching his stomach, audible wheezing escaping his lips.
“My princess,” he announced after catching his breath. “If it pleases you, I’ve gathered some of the finest silks, dresses and jewels as my gift to you for all the trouble we have caused. I’m sure you miss the splendor of the capital, and I will endeavor to cater to your every whim.” He gestured extravagantly to his carriage, where his servants were displaying his treasures.
Mina raised an eyebrow. “Your sudden… generosity is enlightening, as is your attempt to buy yourself into my good graces.”
Adelia stifled a smirk as Councilor Raoul opened and closed his mouth, a bead of sweat rolling down his chin. Serves him right.
“Your Highness—”
“However, it would please me if you passed on this message.” She pulled out a piece of folded parchment, holding it with the tips of her fingers. When Mina had time to write that, Adelia didn’t know. “And stop spending Anadrieth’s treasury. If you want to hold onto your position, you should know better. Give it all back.”
Councilor Raoul almost deflated. His shoulders drooped as he took the message. “Right away, Your Highness,” he muttered.
After a few minutes, General Barrett rounded the corner with the household servants in tow, and they filed beside the soldiers, though they were quite a bit less orderly. He came to stand at the front with all of them, but Mina clapped her hand on his shoulder, turning him around.
“All ranks amongst you are hereby dissolved. Until I say so, you are neither general nor lieutenant, servant nor soldier. You’re simply people trying to help each other survive this mess.”
General Barrett stumbled forward with his mouth hanging open. Adelia sucked in a breath. Things were getting more interesting by the minute, and she loved every second of it. She stole a glance at Alexander. Now, he would have to listen to them.
Mina gestured to Ban, who stood awkwardly next to his demoted father, and Jane, who was hiding behind the matron.
“Partner up, everyone. You’re going to teach each other everything you know.”
Adelia pressed her hands into the snow, her fingers raw and blistered. The cold didn’t help to soothe the ache. A bow rested against her leg, and her arrows littered the ground, not a single one close to its target. General Barrett had already walked away from her, claiming to need a few minutes to breathe. He was practically projecting his frustration, but it wasn’t his fault that she was terrible. Of course, somehow, out of everyone here, Mina paired her up with him.
Her hands were soft, and her arms were too weak to draw back far enough to make a decent shot. Useless, as always. General Barrett had thrown her into archery because she was too weak to swing a sword, while the other servants, their lives ingrained with manual labor, were having no problem with it—at least, no problem with holding the weapons. Adelia jumped up, gritted her teeth and lined up her last arrow. This time, she would get it for sure. Her arms shook under the strain, and the target suddenly seemed a league away.
She couldn’t do it.
Adelia cursed, throwing her arms up, flinging the arrow from her grasp. A nearby yelp made her turn, and she found Anton glaring at her as he rubbed the back of his head. He ushered his partner, Vivian, a few obvious steps away, out of t
ouching distance.
Adelia huffed. It wasn’t her fault that he was standing too close. Vivian seemed to be having an easier time of the whole exercise, the matron’s life of hard work paying off in a rather unexpected way. Adelia tilted her head back, blinking away hot tears. She was utterly useless, despite Barrett’s attempt to teach her. What would she even be able to offer the general in return?
General Barrett returned and cleared his throat. “Milady, try this one.” He pushed another bow into her hands. It was considerably smaller and lighter, the bowstring less taut.
Adelia glanced at him. “Adelia. Just Adelia is fine.” She felt his crumbling arrogance, a flicker of shame.
“Adelia, yes.” The awkwardness was palpable. “It’s for training children. I realize you probably should have started with this one.” Barrett held out the new arrows. “It wasn’t fair of me to put you at a disadvantage because I was… never mind.” He went through the motions again with her, readjusting her grip and stance.
Adelia exhaled, letting the arrow fly, but her hand slipped, knocking it off course. It narrowly flew past Anton’s face, and he stumbled to the side, tripping over his feet and landing unceremoniously on his behind.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Her brother picked himself up, this time steering a clear distance from her range.
Adelia couldn’t help but giggle, though it soon subsided. She couldn’t get close to her target, even with a child’s toy.
Barrett nodded with his arms folded, seeming more pleased than she was. “Better, considering your lack of natural skill. Not quite the intended target, but you were more confident this time.”
She fought back a smile despite his demeanor. He was slightly less brittle than before, and it was probably the only encouragement that he could manage. She flexed her fingers—time to try again.
It was another long hour before General Barrett told her to take a break for the day. Adelia nodded, grabbing handfuls of snow to ease the pain in her fingers. She wandered the grounds until she found Mina walking amongst her army, constantly pausing to give instructions.