They’re going to make me fight for my life again.
My initial reaction isfuck, no, until my hands itch to hold the blades, and now I’m eager.But surely, they’re not stupid enough to arm me, not for real?I scan the room immediately, hungry for the swords in my palms, counting the archers, catching the wary look from the black-clad warrior woman.They’ve added more bowmen, a dozen on the wall I face alone.Which means there are twelve more on this side.
And worse, my constant watcher isn’t alone anymore, six of her sisters flanking her, as diminutive in height but solid in build as she, waiting and observing me.That threat is worse than any arrow.Because one of them, I know I can take.Two, perhaps.Seven?
Damn it.
Yes, they will allow me my weapons.And cut me down with twenty-four arrows backed by seven savagely trained assassins the moment I show defiance.
Glorious, my mother’s memory tells me.
Foolish, Vivenne’s surprises me with her counter.But not the woman I hate, no.The one who trained me, who I still love so much.I choose to separate her from the lying bitch who tried to drown me, who I killed with my bare hands.Who dark magic has raised from the dead.
I choose then and there to keep the aunt I love in my heart and never again equate her with the creature she’s become.
Dressing in the armor means stripping naked in the throne room.Well, it would hardly be the first time I’ve shown my body to strangers, and will likely not be the last.I’m more anxious about what might trigger the archers to attack, and move slowly and carefully while I drop my clothing to the floor and begin to don the leather Prenese’s hands made so lovingly for me.Whether the Sun God knows it or not, I’m far from humiliated by this moment of vulnerability.If anything, I’m grateful for it.Dressing in the handcrafted pieces reminds me of those who care about me, of the family I made and have left behind, of the fate I’ve made from one forced upon me.
By the time I belt the gold-hilted swords to my hips, I’m smiling.Not a happy smile, but one of satisfaction settles around me like a cloak.
When I look up, Vae meeps.She catches herself, but I’m aware of her fear, of the stiffening of the archers, of their watchful stares of the order’s black-armored women warriors, when I stride forward and through the line of princesses who fall away, scrambling to get out of my path too late.And then I’m alone at the foot of the dais, placing the ball of one foot on the first step, fists on my hips, leaning in.
Claiming the Sun God’s territory as my own with that simple stance.
“Princess Remalla of Heald, Blade of Eritoch, Daughter of Jhanette the Bold,” Hallick says.
So formal, Chancellor.I’m about to push boundaries with my words, if I can’t with my blades.“I would think I put on enough of a show for you yesterday, Isthisahaloun.”
Theille gasps, eyes bulging, skin ashen as he spins on his father.But the Sun God merely tilts his head, his small smile remaining, dark eyes taking me in.Still deluded, this sad little man on his golden throne, even to an open threat and insult.
“I enjoyed you very much,” he says in a soft, melodic voice, almost feminine in tone, in gesture.“Would you fight for me again, War Queen’s daughter?”
I shrug and step back.It might sound like a request, but it’s far from it.“If I must.”Whoever they pit me against is about to have a very bad morning, though for all I know, they’re going to make me fight a slew of guards, the order women, perhaps.But when I hear footfalls and turn to face my opponent, my stomach falls to my feet, and I’m gasping for air.
Brem stops in her tracks, face calm and serene.She, too, wears the armor she bore yesterday, her hair in the same heavy plaits, loose at the back, her dark eyes soft and kind.She bows deeply to the Sun God before doing the same to me.
“No,” I say.It barely makes a sound, that protest, and I’m shouting it next.“No!”I spin on Isthisahaloun with a snarl of rage, both hands grasping my swords, ready to kill him if I must.
He seems startled by my fury, sitting up a little straighter, almost hurt by my reaction.“She is a worthy opponent, is she not?”His confusion is a punch to the gut.Can he really believe this is something I want?“I was told she of all would challenge you greatly.”
And break my heart in the process.Breakme.Fuckers.“I won’t,” I snarl.“So, you might as well kill me now.”
“Remi.”Brem’s quiet use of my name has me turning to face her again.She’s still wearing that peaceful expression, smiling at me.“I’m honored to be here.”
“They’re going to make me kill you,” I tell her, short and tense.“I won’t.”
“I’m going to die anyway,” she says with so much love that I choke on her sweetness.“Someday.Today will do, if it’s by your hand that I fall.”
Never.I’m going to kill the Sun God right before they cut me down, and it’s the last thing I’ll ever do.
“Father.”Sheelan has appeared at his elbow, touching his shoulder with a gentle hand, her face unreadable.“I’m surprised you’re willing to waste a talented warrior this way, one who already sacrificed so much.What a pity.”She sighs softly, regretful and melancholy.Sheelan knows who Brem used to be?Cares, even?“After she battled so fiercely for your birthday.”
He seems to think it over, while Theille scowls at his sister.
“She’s a fuckinggladatte,” he snarls at her.“They’re born to die for us.”
For the glory of the fucking Sun God.
Sheelan doesn’t react with anger, but an eye roll to the sky and another sighs while she sits down on the arm of her father’s throne, hand sliding over his shoulders in a familiar gesture that tells me Theille might be his heir, but Sheelan has his favor.“Honestly,” she says, sounding bored and even feigning a yawn, “I’m over all the blood and things.It takes forever to wipe up after, and I just had these slippers made.”She moues down at her feet and the delicate shoes on her feet.“What if I get blood on them?”
