2.

Even with the invasion ongoing the palace had a sense of opulence that staggered Erak. Marble and endangered hardwoods, gold and silver trim and ancient antiques filling every corner. The wounded and dead lining the halls were a stark contrast. The scent of burnt flesh and blood filling every hall.

Medics and non-combatants were prepping them to be moved, stacking people on to litters and changing bandages before the final flight of the palace began. Everyone slid away as Erak marched down the halls. He had only had the armor for a few days, but he had become accustomed to the anonymity it provided him. Now the stares were back, the fear and pity mingling in equal measure.

Pomp’s comforting, cool weight on his shoulder wasn’t helping with the stares. The small ice dragon had taken a liking to holding his physical form, a chill emanating from his body and mist puffing up every time he exhaled. The chill along Erak’s neck and shoulders was a welcome relief against the heat and stuffy air of the palace. Without power the ancient palace walls were holding the heat like a furnace.

Sammus had found a small parlor that wasn’t loaded up with wounded or refugees and had somehow convinced someone to bake delicate pastries with thin coating of powder sugar while sipping cold tea. The young prince had cleaned himself off, his angular features were clear of dirt, ash, and blood while his clear eyes had a hint of mirth in them as the faint smile on his face widened as he saw Erak.

The woman across from him was much older. Her face square with hints of jowls softening the brutal nature of her jaw. Dirty blonde hair was raggedly cut to her shoulder and was still damp and limp against her shoulders while her broad shoulders strained against the confines of an ill fitting Imperial uniform. A sword with a clear crystal in the hilt leaned in a plain scabbard next to her hand.

“Erak, it’s good to see you my friend.” Sammus grabbed a small black plate with gold symbols carefully painted on it, with a single one of the dainty pastries on it. He offered it up to Erak and Erak took the plate instinctively, the delicate china hard to hold between his big fingers.

“My sister, the fourth princess Aloria,” Sammus continued, waving a hand sticky with powdered sugar at Aloria. Erak nodded at her as he used two fingers to pluck the still warm pastry up and ate it in a single bite. The explosion of flavor was powerful, warm chocolate, flaky crust, the sugar divine on his tongue. He set the plate down and grabbed another one off of Sammus’s plate, eating his stolen pastry slower and with great glee as the hurt look on Sammus’s face sweetened the pastry.

“Third princess now. Almonkar’s death is an advancement for me. For all of us,” Aloria didn’t seem distraught with the thought of her brother’s death. Sammus read Erak’s face in an instant and quickly explained.

“Almonkar and Aloria had a bit of a difference in opinion. On everything. Sometimes violently different.” Sammus waved a hand as if that delicate piece of intelligence was common knowledge.

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“Almonkar was prideful and stubborn as a dwarf. Hard headed enough that he thought he could go and kill that creature with only a hundred men. Got them all killed too. Men who would have been better served holding the line.” Aloria’s voice was raspy and had a slight accent to it that tickled Erak’s ear.

“Do you have more food?” Pomp asked for Erak as Erak finished off his pastry, licking at his fingers to clear up the sugar.

“Is all you ever think about is food and fighting?” Sammus said with a laugh. He grabbed a silver bell and rang it twice, the clear sounds ringing out as Erak grabbed one of the small chairs and sat down.

“You’re a big one. I’ve seen several of you Northern bastards about. Lord Glacies has been hard at work for many years breeding warriors like you. I will admit, you are far more effective than our intelligence indicated,” Aloria said.

“What do they say about me and my brethren? Erak signed as the door opened and a disheveled looking waiter brought in another plate filled with pastries.

“That you are bastards, born from only the fiercest of the half-breed giantesses and from the greatest and most loyal warriors of Lord Glacies. That you are engineered in labs, every weakness pruned away while still in the womb. That you hunt ice drakes and direwolves as children. And your lord’s enemies as adults.”

“Close enough,” Erak signed, eyes locked on the steaming pile of pastries. He grabbed one and threw the whole thing in his mouth, ignoring the burning in his mouth as he chewed.

“Is it true that you are introduced to your charge as a child? Grow up together like siblings? A loyalty that can’t be bought or challenged.” Aloria seemed genuinely curious. It was different from so many others who whispered in the wake of his passage.

“I was placed by Victoria’s crib when I was three. I was her guardian from the moment of her birth and have only grown further into my duties. My duty is my honor, and my duty is to serve and protect,” Erak signed.

“Admirable. Whatever Lord Glacies has done up there has produced some of the greatest warriors I’ve ever seen. Even the old guard, the warchiefs of the glacier fields, fell to the demons. Yet, here you are. Cleansing the city with steel and vengeance. Father should have invested more in Lord Glacies processes. A few of your kind attached to some of the younger siblings. But then it would be troubling when the purges would begin. Maybe it’s better to keep them vulnerable,” Aloria pondered, tapping her finger softly against her chin.

“You must forgive Aloria, Erak. She’s a monster wrapped in the flesh of a human being. All she thinks of is the throne and how many siblings she’d have to kill to take it,” Sammus said, chuckling without humor. His eyes were flat as he looked at the older woman. Aloria gave a flat smile back at him and wolfed down a pastry.

“The moment father stepped down, the bleeding would begin. I know for a fact that Almonkar planned to kill me himself. Bragged about it quite frequently when he was drinking with his closest allies. Sammus here is soft by comparison, his twin is actually loved by him. All of us are killers just waiting for the Emperor to die so we can have a chance.” Aloria ate another of her pastries and then leaned back, fingers laced over her stomach.

“Anyways, Erak. I wanted you to meet Aloria since she will be leading the assault out of the palace walls. She was requesting you to join her in the attack to break through the perimeter.”

“I will do as my Queen orders me to, but I have no objection to being the point of the spear,” Erak said.

“Magnificent,” Aloria whispered, her eyes clouded over in though.

“Yes, these are. Erak another?” Sammus said, picking up the rapidly diminished plate of pastries and offering one to him. Erak’s stomach rumbled and he took the entire plate as Pomp snorted a cool breath across his neck.