Amos, what’s our word count?

[SS]: The smirking. No. No way are we close to twenty thousand. He’s laughing at me because I’m gaping after counting. Eighteen thousand. Eighteen thousand words. “Did you pad that last story for filler?” … He’s winking.

I want you before the darkness, and I will have what I want.

With your permission, of course.

[SS]: He looks less happy and more like he’s drifting off into his thoughts.

By the time I was equivocal to your fifteen, Nox to seventeen, and Xelan to eleven, Umbra and Amolot led our armies to subjugate peoples all around the Vast Collective for the Tritans. Each time, Umbra returned with women to conquer. They seemed eager enough to participate. To fuck the already unioned—wed in Icarean society—King who led the strongest warrior race in the galaxy.

He did so publicly.

I loved Savis like a mother; you see? Sure, she was quite a severe woman, but she treated this “contaminant” like a son and shielded me from her husband. She deserved better than these ceremonies.

On one such occasion, Nox expressed his own sentiments in a way that startled but inspired me. My future King vowed, “I will never treat a female the way he does. Like my mother. Like property.” He even shuddered.

I sealed the pact after I saw the sincerity in his eyes. “Never.”

Never…

[SS]: Korac’s gone back to sitting in silence. I can’t tell, but I think he’s furious.

“You don’t force yourself on someone you love. You do that to someone you think you own.” I told Nox that the day we set out for Yellowstone. Almost three years ago now. I still can’t fathom—

Forgive me, amos. I’ve upset you. You’re crying.

[SS]: Rayne, I have to confess something I may eventually redact. But I know. I made Korac tell me before Volcano Day. I’m sorry I never told you. And I’m sorry that, unlike Tameka, I couldn’t puzzle it together myself. But despite all the obvious signs and red flags in my face, I just… I couldn’t believe Nox would ever to do that to you.

Time for another confession. I’d always hoped that somehow, someway, we’d stop the Icarean invasion peacefully and that I could be with Korac, Tameka with Xelan, and… you with Nox. But after he killed Xelan and captured you…

There’s no way to come back from that, and I know that’s partially why you killed him. I’m proud of you because I don’t think I could kill Korac. Ever. I think I’m the only person who knew what it took for you to do that. How you actually felt about the Icarus that betrayed you. And I’m sorry you had to endure all of it on your own.

Let’s take a recess.

[SS]: We took a much needed snack and snuggle break. Checked in on Triss and the crew. We’ve been working all night. They’re fine with giving us the next day or two off to keep at it. I can’t wait for you to hear the broadcast.

Returning to my life as the Princes’ guard.

After Umbra’s compensation ceremony, Nox escaped to his room looking cagey. This was a regular occurrence and often followed by his disappearance for a day or two. I knocked on his door, determined this time.

“You are not coming with me.” My future King also sounded determined.

I pressed my forehead to the door and chewed my frustration through my jaw. Reason with him? Or let him go? With a sigh, I reminded him, “As a Prince, you should go nowhere without an escort. I worry about a mugging or worse—abduction and ransom.”

Abruptly, the door opened, and I stumbled into the room. Nox glowered at me from our impressive height difference. “Who would dare mug me? And how would they contain me if I were abducted?”

What about these trips were so sacred? Why take them alone? I’ll admit. I asked to go to satisfy my curiosity as much to protect my future King.

Nox waved me away. “I will survive for two days without you. Xelan, however, might not. He still expects you to help him study the environmental briefs from Reipon that the Valkyrie brought from their last trip. You promised him. Breaking a vow to him is worse than breaking one to me.”

I understood. Hell, I agreed. But…

“Here.” Nox removed something from his pack. “I made this out of a Four-Tongued Phoenix Dragon. My second ever kill. It took three days to excavate the full length of the muscle. Two to cure it in the desert fires. It is a worthy weapon for a guard to the royal family.”

The whip was beautiful. The cracker was forked, and the handle was sheathed in dragon bone. More bone barbed the thong. Taking it from him, the grip felt comfortable and familiar. From my days in Gait, I was quite skilled. I wanted him to know I was capable. Swiftly, I uncoiled and cracked it onto his open balcony. The pop reverberated in my jaw.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The Prince nodded solemnly in approval. “Worthy, indeed. You look after mother and Xelan while I’m gone.”

I followed him onto the veranda, enjoying the feel of this precious gift when something occurred to me. “Prince Nox, if you leave it to me, what weapon will you use?”

He slung his pack over his shoulder and opened his wings. Before taking off, he lifted his opened fists. “I never use weapons to hunt.”

Looking back, I should have felt chilled. Or unease. My future King fought Phoenix Dragons with his bare hands. Ripped their tongues out and cured them over lava beds.

But at the time, I felt so much pride to know him, and I was honored by the gifts he bestowed.

That was until a voice slithered into the room. “Contaminant.”

Amolot.

I turned to find she wasn’t alone. Umbra waited in the door with her. He smirked. “You will disappoint Xelan tonight. I have a mission for you.”

This was stupid. I couldn’t fly. How was I supposed to keep up with the Valkyrie on foot? To “spy on them and uncover their treachery.” As if Karter and Para would ever harm their people. Umbra was fucking insane to think they would endanger Savis—

I carried on like this for half a day. The deplorable monarch possessed enough sense to provide me with a heading: a continent with a nefarious designation. While the King swore to the Princes he would never trade in slaves, he harbored his spoils of war in a hidden colony. He tasked the Valkyrie to manage it with heavy discretion.

Slaves.

Not just any slaves…

When I crested the cliff, I gazed into a valley filled with nacre-donors.

That’s right. All the civilians Umbra prized from his successful campaigns on Thailea, Lukemore, and, most recently, Reipon—he kept them to surgically remove their nacres and use them for weapons, armor, war machines—any and every machination to further his kingdom.

Despite that nightmare notion, the people honestly seemed happy. With my hair wrapped in a turban and my whip on my hip, I walked among the bustling crowd. With the Valkyrie’s help, the people established their own markets. Traded in produce and services. I dare say it was even livelier than any city I visited within the Spire’s shadow. It smelled better. Roasting meat and even a perfume shop.

There were no perfume shops on the rest of Cinder.

After a stop there, I searched for my quarry. They weren’t hard to find. At the far end of the city’s main thoroughfare sat a monolithic hall, comparable to Elden’s Temple. Para and Karter conversed with what I presumed were leaders of the colony. I lingered behind a shop nearby to listen undetected.

A short woman with a fancy hat shook Para’s hand. “Thank you again for the anesthetic from Reipon.”

Even being the shortest Valkyrie, Para stood an entire head taller than the woman. “Was it as we were told?”

“Yes. The metabolic rate is much slower so we have longer to retract the nacre—”

“How much longer will we be subjected to this?!” the only male, a Caprent, growled.

My first time seeing a Lamia—the snake woman hissed with a heavy emphasis on the “S” sound. “Councilman! You ask so much from the Valkyrie. They are not the entire army, and they do more for us than any force thus far—”

Karter held out her hand to stave them. “We understand your fury. You have shown more than enough patience. We hope to gain the necessary allies in the next few campaigns. Lady Savis is making arrangements. Everything is coming together. I ask for a little more time. If you push this, if you try to rebel now, you risk the Icarean army slaughtering everyone.”

So Umbra and Amolot were right to worry, but even then I knew it was self-inflicted. They were farming people for glass.

Obscene.

What the Valkyrie proposed was dangerous, and if Savis were implicated… I couldn’t imagine her fate. Imagine Karter and Para’s fate. The fate of people I loved. If only they told Nox. He might even help.

I used the time walking back home to think on it. My family… my home… at such risk.

I barely made it to my chambers before Umbra barged into them with his General. The moment of truth. Tell or don’t.

“Well?!”

I swallowed hard and rubbed the frustration from the back of my neck. “Your suspicions are founded.”

Both drew in a ragged breath, bated.

“They are smuggling medicine found on their campaigns to the colony. It helps with the nacre extractions, but I understand you should approve of these transactions.”

Umbra barked out a laugh. “Is that all?”

But Amolot narrowed her gaze at me.

I was unphased. “Yes, sir. How would you like me to proceed?”

Uninterested, Umbra patted Amolot’s shoulder as he made to leave the room. “You see to it, Amolot. This no longer gives me reason for concern.”

I almost sighed in relief until the General snapped, “Then let me interrogate them about it. I want to trace what kind of medicine, from where, and how much. Allowing these little slips might well led to the full-scale insurrection we feared.”

Shit.

“Thorough as always. Interrogate using whatever means you deem necessary. Contaminant, I will employ you again should I see fit.” The King of Cinder exited my chambers with a cavalier wave. Leaving me alone with Amolot.

I stared coldly at her, giving her nothing. Between one breath and the next, the bitch slapped me. Open-palmed. Red sting. Slapped me across the jaw. Pain exploded in my eye, and I bit my tongue.

But I survived dying twice to a drone at the tender age of seven.

When I didn’t give Amolot the response she wanted, she turned to leave. I couldn’t let her have the last word. “Amolot.”

Over her shoulder, she spared me a heinous glance.

“Look for me out of the corner of your eye. Always.”

She tripped over herself when she left, keeping an eye on me.

[SS]: I’m so glad she’s dead.

I wanted to say something. What was it? Oh, I recall. I wanted to mention that I bought perfume for both Xelan and Nox while on the continent.

I gave it to them after Amolot left me alone.

The youngest Prince beamed at me. “Thank you, Korac! I will start my analysis immediately.” He disappeared into his chambers with it.

Nox sniffed it, peered at it, and I swear to Elden, if he tasted it, I would laugh in his face. Instead, he made an attempt at a bewildered smile and thanked me, looking all the while as if he didn’t know what it was for.

Shortly after, Umbra tried to force Nox to marry and consummate publicly with Para. Instead, Nox knocked all the Icari unconscious and relocated the accused Karter and Para in the process. Like one ought to.

That was written in his Verse.

Three Earth-years thereafter, we were called upon to destroy Lacceirus-Capra’s atmosphere. I remember sneaking that comms device to Xelan. I remember Nox letting me claim the spotlight when I gave it to him. I could only imagine what wonders the young Icarus could make from it, and hoped this one involved snow.

And, amos, check your word count now. I want my reward.