Anais
Stepping over the bodies, the Queen strode out the door with her sword twirling through the air. A line of soldiers stood twenty paces from the manor. Archers with bows drawn were behind them. In the middle of the archers was a noble on a horse. Behind him were several more rows of soldiers. Not quite eighty, but most of them.
The Queen stabbed her sword into the wooden patio. Cold boredom seeped from her ringing tone. “Lord Magdus. Explain why I should not have your daughter whipped the moment I return to the palace.”
His shoulders tightened as he bowed in his seat. “My Queen, I deeply regret the confusion. My guards were here to apprehend a Nadraken spy. When they reported your presence, I didn't believe them. I needed to see you myself. Please accept my humblest apologies. May I ask if the spy was found?”
Her claws tapped the hilt. “Yourguards, Lord Magdus? They bear the Kipos crest.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, Lady Satryani sent me to scout this village for the spy. I'm only temporarily in command of her militia.”
“I see.” The Queen surveyed the troops, pausing on each man and woman. A few of the archers hesitantly lowered their bows. “And how does shooting your sovereign fit into your apology?”
He hastily snapped at his archers to stop aiming at the Queen. “They were ready to shoot down the spy, that is all, my Queen. Please forgive their overeagerness. I will let the duchess know to address the issue as soon as we return. But the spy – we should continue searching if she has not been apprehended. She is highly dangerous and–”
“We killed her. She wore the same armor as the militia, and only after cutting through twenty bodies did we find that she wasn’t wearing a crest.” She plucked her sword from the wood and ran a finger along the flat of the blade. Drying blood smeared like paint. “Curious that your guards did not recognize me and my Escorts. We declared ourselves. They still fought.”
Smoothly, the count responded, “We were warned of Nadraken tricks. All the deaths today are on Queen Yelena's head, but I am relieved to hear her spy is dead. May we accompany you to the palace, my Queen?”
So he could kill her on the road.
Her lips curved in a thin, cool smile.
“So many excuses, my lord,” she purred. “But I am not satisfied. Five lashes for your daughter. Let this be a warning. Be grateful I do not command that you dole out the punishment yourself so that she knows precisely who is at fault.”
Movement along the edges of the buildings crept closer.
The count’s polite mask slipped. “You willnotharm my daughter. Lady Satryani promised you would return–” He shut his mouth and swallowed his words. A red flush rose up his neck.
“The duchess makes promises she cannot keep,” the Queen drawled. “Like how she would keep the throne. How she would help you take this village as she helped you take Fort Grand.”
“My Queen, that is not true. As I explained, I was in the vicinity and merely helped liberate–”
Her sword whistled as it sliced through the air. “I tire of you, Lord Magdus. Your presence is unnecessary. Entirely unnecessary.”
Confusion flickered in his eyes. It lasted only as long as it took for her soldiers to spring out from the shadows.
Ten of Satryani’s militia fell. They were slow to react. Fifteen. Finally, swords and shields raised.
Ten against sixty. The Queen leaped off the patio. The archers raised their bows.
Just a step behind her, Jerome roared, “Drop your weapons and kneel before your rightful Queen! Treason will be met with death! Yours. And your loved ones!”
Lord Magdus’ horse shuffled as he shouted, “Hold your ground! She is a weak and powerless Queen! Follow your orders! Cut her down!” He drew his sword, but held the reins of his horse tightly and whipped his head to the sides. He was looking for an escape, not a fight.
The militia didn't hesitate. Even the archers who had recognized their Queen didn't lower their bows this time. Arrows sang through the air. Anais ducked and rolled, quickly closing the distance so that arrows were no longer effective. She came up with her sword ready. Five paces forward, a wall of locked shields faced her.
Lord Magdus sneered, but a hint of fear flashed in his eyes. A single thrown dagger could have ended him. Not yet. Not so quick.
Her daggers went into three eyes – the soldier in front of her and the two beside him. An archer behind the front line had an arrow aimed at her chest. She veered sharply and flicked her wrist. Her dagger flew. The arrow spun between her arm and her ribs – a narrow miss. She grinned.
Jerome jumped over the bodies and joined her, side to side, back to back. Killing was like dancing. Castien would disagree;his shoulders were much too tense, and his mouth was drawn in a thin line of concentration. Perhaps he was the expert, but the way blood sprayed in a curve was undeniably elegant, the way her sword felt light in her hand was exhilarating, and how time slowed – her reactions faster, more natural, more precise than her opponents – made her feel invincible.
Or perhaps she had spent too much time with her court.
Overconfidence will get you killed.
Both her parents tried to train that feeling of immortality out of her. It was only when overconfidence had hurt someone she loved that she had learned.
