I think of the place I’ve been brought to. The deep rooted pines and firs, thick leaves gathering the sun, its rays barely caressing the misty ground. I follow the road, I am faster than a horse, quicker than stormy winds, I head to an abandoned building from memory. I find myself in front of the creaking decrepit door. My hands are see-through, glowing with a soft white light.
Time is running out outside, but here, it seems to stop. I walk through the door, knowing I am but a phantom to the inhabitants. People stand in the hallways, mouths open. They are frozen in time for now. I pass through the antique halls, searching for the man whose help I’m in dire need of.
I look through every door, eyes darting from side to side, but I can’t find him. I go upstairs, my steps feather light. I cannot hear my heartbeat, nor my breaths. I am not really here, and as uncanny as it is, I must concentrate. If I lose this spark, I will be back at the cabin in the woods, and the blood I spilled would be for nothing.
Straight ahead, behind holed and torn drapes, lies a room. I cannot smell it, but I know it smells of sage and parsley. It’s the room August and Kaytus waited for me in. The one I mistook for the kitchens. I stoll in and my eyes widen.
In the corner, August’s hand is on Kaytus’s cheek. Their chests are touching and the spy’s lips are parted, his cheeks flushed. I hold my breath, approaching the scene. I tilt my head, trying to wrap my head around it. August’s eyes are playful, menacing, while Kaytus’s eyebrows are turned upward, his expression pleading.
Not able to control the urge, I lift my hand and slide it on the silver haired man’s jaw. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t know I am here, I am but a fleeting moment in time. I could kill them both right now, if I managed to hold onto a knife long enough. This is my chance.
I pull my hand back abruptly. Groaning, I turn back, deliberating. I don’t have much time now, I feel my strengths falter by the second. I furrow my brows and click my tongue in revulsion. I close my eyes and try to link my body to my spirit. I feel the sting on my wrist and something warm sliding to the floor. Good.
With my index finger I touch the wound and start writing with the only tangible thing here. I won’t be able to grab a weapon, I won’t be able to grab a pen and a piece of parchment. I curse everything and everyone under my breath, as I write my message to both of them. My initial plan was to contact Kaytus, but it happens nothing I’ve ever told Kaytus stayed between us, and not because he had duties, but because his superior has a hold on him that is much stronger than any job. That is no job, that is his whole life.
I watch them in disgust, but I’m unable to stop. I feel my forces melt and seconds later I’m on the wooden floor of my prison. I gasp for air, hearing everything at once. Birds, knights outside, the creaking of the wood under me, my heartbeat, my breathing, the tapping of blood on the ground.
I rush outside, where I call out for Christian. He gets up from the ground and hurries to me. I show him the wound, deciding not to explain my actions. Either way, he is already at the camp they’ve put together while I was working. The old knight carefully washes my wound, disinfects it with pure alcohol and bandages it.
“Thank you.”
“Did it work?”
“Yes.”
“What are your orders?” His question is simple, but I cannot give him what he needs. I shake my head, knowing very well my orders hold no weight here. If it were up to me, I’d have asked to be brought back to the palace and turn down any requests to exile me again. But life is made in ways that I cannot control what others do. “Very well. We wait.”
“I want to fight, Sir Christian.” I manage. “I want to fight for what is right.”
“I know.”
With this, he returns to the camp. Other knights look at him curiously, but he says nothing. I close the door and my eyes dart to the scene. Blood everywhere, it smells like lightning here. I should try to clean this up, somehow. Wouldn’t want people to see I’ve been doing ancient traveling rituals.
I found a cloth in one of the drawers. Only now I notice the kitchen is pretty well equipped. There is an assortment of teas, some packaged food and a kettle. After cleaning up the floor, I make myself a cup of chai and wait. Its smell calms my nerves, and apparently it restores energy and helps with digestion. Academy’s lessons in herbology and potions are indeed helpful.
Time passes slowly when there is nothing to do. Alone with my thoughts, I try not to lose myself in the mental maze. I sit on the counter, dangling my feet, anxiously waiting for a sign. Nobody wields magic there, so I won’t receive any notice of their arrival, or their refusal.
I sip hot berry tea, munching on a slice of white bread. It’s hard, but edible. I don’t know how I’m supposed to last on barely edible foods. Maybe the knights would bring me something fresh, like chicken breast or leg. Even if it's venison, impossible to chew without having a jaw ache for the next two hours, I don’t care at this point.
I hear a loud thud against the front door and stop mid-swallow. I don’t move, waiting. There’s a knock - something so simple, and yet, it makes my blood grow cold. I silently get down to the ground and make a few hesitating steps towards the door. It’s a clear day outside.
I put my palm on the doorknob and breathe in. I opened it. I was prepared to receive a shock, or some kind of pain, but nothing came. In front of me, Kaytus, dressed in black, like the night. He seems to be alone.
“Hi,” Is all I can say.
“They’re knocked out, nothing serious.” He states, pointing with his thumb. Behind him, a macabre scene. All knights lie on the ground, eyes closed, but breathing. I sigh in relief, still blocking the passage.
“Should I grab my stuff?” I ask hesitantly. He didn’t kill the knights, maybe he wishes to parlay after all.
His eyes trail down to my wrist, but he shows no sign of curiosity.
“You brought baggage from the palace?” He asks, clearly mocking. I look back inside, where the only thing of mine is the book Sir Christian rented (he wouldn’t have stolen it) from the Academy’s library. I haven’t thought about it, but how in hell did he manage to enter their grounds?
“Just a book. Let me grab it.”
I kneel in front of the stuffed fireplace and summon a piece of chalk. I write down a rune I remember from my studies. It’s quite simple.
Kaytus waits, hands on the doorframe, head down. His bangs fall on his face as he watches me. “Good, we’re leaving now.”
“Did August agree to see me then?”
“I am here, aren’t I?”
I shrug. “You could be here to kill me, for all I know.”
Behind the cottage, a pair of horses are waiting for us. They move their heads, munching on grass.
“I get a horse?”
“No it’s for me.”
I look at him, annoyed. He chuckles and shakes his head. “Yes, it is yours, now get a move on!”
I put my hands in the air defensively, holding the book under my pit. I try to put the book on the saddle but it keeps sliding off. The atmosphere becomes extremely awkward. Kaytus huffs beside me, already on his steed.
“Come on, take forever.”
“It’s early afternoon, what else do you have to do at this time? Conquer an empire?”
“Sleep.” He grunts.
“It is early afternoon, though.” I cheekily add.
“I didn't sleep very well last night.”
“Yeah…” I purse my lips, finally managing to balance my weight on horseback and hold the book close. “Of course. Did you just wake up then?”
“Less questions, more moving, princess.”
“I thought we’re way past that, spy.”
“We’re not past anything now please, shut up and let’s go.”
Oh, he’s in a foul mood today. Does this have something to do with August? Of course it does, after all the time we’ve spent together it was the only thing on his lips. Duty, revolution, people are suffering princess! No shit they are. With a good for nothing king and a prince like my brother people are bound to agonize.
“His name is Byule,” Kaytus notes. “Hold close.”
“I know how to horseback ride -” Byule runs off into the forest, neighing loudly. I gasp, holding onto the reins. Kaytus catches up quickly, and keeps up the pace. I look back at the cabin. It’s getting farther, with every movement of Byule’s strong legs. I close my eyes for a second, holding the reins tight between my fingers.
The sound of a small explosion startels the animals. I look back, noticing a trail of smoke.
“Did you blow up the cabin?”
“Yeah,” I say, my eyes hurting from the wind.
“Why?” He asks, jerking his chin.
“So he can never send me there again.” I say. “And so he knows I’m not to be put in a cage.”
We gallop until the forest is no more, until a huge poppy field comes to view. The horses lower the speed, and I can finally let go of the reins. Kaytus sits straight, and I remember what I’ve thought once. He looks like a cursed prince. His tired eyes and permanent mocking demeanor could be sung about in taverns.
“August is willing to give me another chance?” I ask, feeling extremely awkward. I asked for their help, to help them, after I betrayed their trust once. Was it trust, or was it forced? Why the sudden change of heart?
I prefer to act calm and nice, rather than promise them deaths on spikes.
“It’s up for debate.”
“So you’re leading me to my certain death.”
“You were the one to give out your location. Is the revolution better than a prison in your eyes?”
I look ahead, my hips moving in rhythm with the horse.
“The lesser of two evils.” I mutter, watching as his gloved hands hold the reins tightly.
“I believe you want to help,” He sneers. “It doesn’t mean you’ve gained our trust.”
“You haven’t gained mine either.” I retort. “But as I'm coming willingly, to help you get all you wished for, I want protection in some shape or form.”
“I won’t ever leave your side while you’re in the building.”
“As far as I know you’re still loyal to August and his cause. How is this protecting me?”
“I wanted you to survive for a while now. Why should I turn my back on you now?”
“Because that’s what I would have done in your shoes.”
I don’t dare to speak again. We pick up the pace at some point, and the wind dishevels my hair again.
City lights are visible from the sparse pine forest around us. No landmarks, no road signs - I have no way of knowing where we are. Only now I realize we’re not going to the north-east building. On the contrary the mountains are on our left. We must be close to yet another base. Do they move a lot? Is it mandatory for traitors of the state?
The sun started to go down a while ago, and soon will be completely lost behind the mountains to the west. Night arrives earlier in late autumn.
I glance at the agent beside me - his face emotionless, his grip strong and his feet hitting the horse’s sides.
Suddenly, he takes a look around. I follow suit.
“Did you see something?”
“Wolves.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Wh.. How do you know?”
“Eyes.”
He points to the left, where indeed, several pairs of yellow eyes stare at us. We continue moving, horses silent, like the forest. All animals seem to be asleep, save the predators.
“They won’t attack,” Kaytus says in a low tone, unyielding to any emotion. For a mere second, it feels like he’s from another world. There’s something dangerous in him, more than just skill and experience. I know he can kill, I know he can lie, but I feel there’s more underneath the cold exterior. Something resembling white rage. I know if he had magic he would be powerful, much more powerful than me. My emotions control my magic, and I’m no warrior - I do not know how to use terror or fury to my advantage. Kaytus seems to keep them at bay quite well, not letting anything slide, as if he was harboring all the negativity, only to strike with full force when time is right.
“How do you know?”
“I just know.” His answer is curt, as always. I nod, having no choice but to ignore the hungry yellow eyes in the dark. My instincts tell me to pick up the pace, but the spy is calm, so I will be too. He will not have the upper hand.
We stop in front of a large tavern beside Mar, the third biggest city of Malachite. I recognize its brick walls and colorful roofs. He gets off his horse, hurrying me to do the same. Around us, no people sitting outside, the tables are clean, with chairs upside down. The place must be closed.
He leads me inside, through an old heavy door. It’s partially metal. There’s no one inside, everything is pitch black. The only light is slithering through the door. Creepy.
“Another base of yours?”
“Very smart of you. Yes. Now follow me. We are most certainly late.”
I let my shoulders fall, cursing at the pain in my lower back. I signed up for this. The lesser of two evils, indeed.
“Go up the stars,” he orders. I swallow the fear and do as he says. The stairs squeak under me and I flinch. “You will be fine, just give me a minute.”
Kaytus lights a candle with a match, and puts it on the counter. Behind him a huge gallery of alcohol bottles. They seem to be in good condition.
“What did I tell you? Up!” He hisses, chasing me with his hands as if I were a cat. I groan and continue going upstairs. It’s so dark, I might as well cut out my eyeballs. This is ridiculous. They have multiple bases and are unable to pay taxes for some light? The Academy doesn’t ask for a lot, either.
There is no one upstairs. I wait at the stairwell, wondering what the spy is up to. He comes up, holding a bottle, several glasses and the candle. It illuminates our faces and the floor around us. He puts the objects on a cabinet beside me. There is a vase with dead flowers and a pack of matches.
A male voice comes from the corridor. A man I recognize as August is accompanied by three agents. He comes to the center of the parlor, lighting his pipe. It starts to smell of smoked herbs.
“Long time no see, princess.” He greets me.
I curtsy mockingly. “Your Majesty.”
He doesn’t smile. His eyes pierce mine and he puts a hand on Kaytus’s shoulder. The spy is much taller, I notice. He flinches at the touch.
“I wondered when you would understand the crimes you committed-”
“Oh we are not having this conversation again!” I exclaim, lifting my hands.
“Getting tired of hearing the truth?” Kaytus growls, taking a step towards me, pushing August’s hand away in the process.
“Listen here,” I put my finger to his chest. My only sin was being ignorant. I’m doing everything in my power to stop this war. I want my country to prosper and for the people to live a comfortable life. I don’t want my people to be executed, I don’t want people dying because our medecine isn’t good. I know what must be done to change it all! But nobody gives me a chance, nobody is willing to help me stop this madness because of their pride or prejudice!”
“You think my prejudice is illogical?” He smirks, but his eyes scream violence. “You think I’m too proud to see the truth?”
“Your prejudice is illogical because of what I just told you and pride? I wasn’t talking about you, but now that you mention it-”
He grabs my neck and slams me against a wall. “You think you’re so smart? You know nothing about the real world. You know nothing about poverty and other internal conflicts of Malachite. And yet, you believe that you will be able to calm the storm when it knocks on your front door.”
“Then tell me what you have done. Come on, tell me how you talked to the king, how you gathered people to march to the castle. Tell me what you have done to make this kingdom a better place!” My tone escalates with every sentence. I end up shouting.
His grip lessens and finally, he lets go of me. I cough, putting a hand in front of my mouth. He fixes his gloves. Kaytus looks at me, a sardonic smile on his face. He puts his side bangs back, with the rest of the silver hair. His blonde ends shimmer under the candle light.
“I’d rather die than watch my home country destroy itself from within. I’d rather die than play a part in it.” I take a step forward, a hand on my neck, caressing the soft skin, now bruised. “I will either end this conflict or die trying.”
“Enough, kids.” August’s voice comes from a corner of the room. I turn my head and see him.
We both turn to face him, breathing hard.
“Enough. I’ll listen to your proposition. I’ll think about it, and if you truly wish to give the crown to the people, then there is no reason to be uncivilized.”
The message I drew in blood was clear.
I want to help. I’m in exile in a cabin, south-east to the castle, an hour by carriage.
Please. Bring me to your base, and we will take the crown and give it to the people,
beg you, it’s the only way to avoid further bloodshed.
Don’t trust the Academy.
- Norella Seagrave.
“It is true. I give up all rights to the throne, hell, I give up the throne. If we manage to stop Rigel and Father, the crown is no more. The people choose their leader how they wish.”
“And what happens to your family?” August comes closer, puffing smoke in my face. Kaytus’s hand flinches.
“They live in exile, in a neighboring country perhaps.”
“And you?”
Kaytus glances at me. His lips part but he says nothing.
“I go with them, of course.”
“Perfect. I can work with that. Now let’s get to work, people. Turn on the lights, bring out the schemes and maps. You, check the perimeter, see if you weren’t followed.”
“We weren’t.” Kaytus replies.
“Check again.” August insists and the spy has no choice but to leave me. I look as he descends the stairs and our eyes meet. Liar.
“Drys, good to see you,” Kaytus calls from downstairs. I look at the agents behind August. Of course, Drys was the name of the second spy. I should thank him for giving me the idea to train magic.
“I heard the Academy is our enemy. Care to explain how you got from shopping to fighting for freedom?”
I laugh sardonically, putting my hands on my waist. Meanwhile the other two agents move the table, putting it in the center, and light up the chandelier above us. The room is fit for planning.
“I don’t want any more deaths, no matter how deserving they are.”
“Ouh, a threat. I like this girl,” Drys smiles wide, tilting his head. His face is long, his eyes narrow and hooded. His dark hair is straight, in a low ponytail.
We all stand at the table, where an agent puts a map. It’s actually several little maps on one sheet. One depicts the capital, the other the major cities of Malachite and the last one seems to be an architectural plan of the royal palace, my home.
“Let’s hear it. .” August speaks. Drys smiles at me. He looks… kinder than the rest.
“I’ll certainly tell you something you already know. But you’ll listen nonetheless.”
“Please, go on,”
“Father’s rule is a joke.” I started off strong. “He has made many mistakes during his reign, but it is not something I can personally attest to, as I’m not exactly knowledgeable in details. I know he has a deal with Peregrine, and that he let the country rule itself, to protect some secret deal he has with Astral, the queen of the Seelie Court.”
“What deal?” August asks, his eyes shimmering with interest.
“I don’t know. I just know he said it was so important nobody is aware it exists. Not even my mother.”
“Falke must be furious,” Drys smiles.
“She might have been, why do you say that?”
“Oh, because I’ve heard of her curiosity on matters of the state when she married Calen.”
“Back on track, guys,” August rolls his eyes. “So, there’s a secret deal with the queen of Honeyed Comb, interesting. What else?”
“I just know he exiled me because I wanted to unearth the secret, wanted to help him rule, instead of Rigel, and he lost it. Sent me away to the wilderness.”
“You think your father lost his mind?” A valid question.
“He just might have,” I whisper, aware of the meaning behind what I said. A mad king means the revolution is the only right choice. “But, Rigel is unofficially the power now. Father is no more than a shield, covering for the true decision taker. And I know Father wishes to share the secret with him once the time comes.”
“So what do you suggest?” Drys asks.
“Rigel will not hesitate to put everything in his arsenal to attack you, find every single anti-monarchy person and execute them. He will install terror in a peaceful country. That cannot happen.”
“That much we agree on,” August says, putting his hands on the table, looking up at me. “But why are you a valuable asset to us, princess?”
“I can help you infiltrate the castle and bring Rigel here. Separate him from his main strength - the guards and knights, a small army but it’s still a threat,”
Nobody speaks for some time, weighting the information I’ve presented.
“What happens when we bring Rigel here? Will he atone for his sins, beg for forgiveness?” Drys asks.
“No, he will not. The rest is up to you.” I conclude.
“We already infiltrated the castle twice. Kaytus and Drys did a wonderful job, keeping their identities hidden up until the banquet. What else can you give us?”
“Magic. I can make us invisible, I can incapacitate Rigel without a fuss. I’m exiled, yes, but the knights seem to be unsure of Father’s methods. Servants talk too. Nobody will suspect me of working with the enemy. I’m your golden ticket to the palace.”
The agents share inquisitive looks, and Drys smirks. “It’s a win.”
“Not unless she’s laying a trap.” August says, his eyes locked on the map.
“You have to trust me on this! I am not your prisoner, I came willingly to help you stop my brother.”
“But don’t you want the crown?” Drys asks, his hands clasped behind his back. “At all?”
“I don’t want it if it means the revolution will continue to exist. I want peace, and if with peace I lose my title, so be it.”
That must have hit a nail in their head. They nodded at each other. Now it’s technicalities. The reunion continued, as the agents talked about their movements from city to city. They hid their headquarters very well, traveling from one post to another, so that Rigel’s forces couldn’t track them down. Brilliant. They did it before Rigel even came to power. How long have they been chased by Father’s people? Did Father even have people to track down the traitors? Doesn’t look like it.
Kaytus came back, insisting the perimeter was clear. Nobody followed us here. Sir Christian must have kept his promise. Good man. He put his finger on the castle’s plan, explaining to August the best entrances to stay hidden, undetected from the guards. But he didn’t know everything, so that's when I came through.
I expanded their knowledge on the main gates, the rotation of the guards. I also told them that when I was there the day before, there were less servants, the castle looked absolutely deserted.
I presumed Drys and Kaytus stepped away from the palace because their mission was over - but if the security became tighter, they couldn’t have stayed even if it would have been more advantageous for the coup. The green signal Kaytus was talking to Drys about all those weeks ago.
I finished by talking about the Academy situation, expecting the revolution agents to take the matter seriously. I put faith into their wisdom and ability to negotiate, not just with me, but with the magicians too. They are a threat to stability, but pushing them away would result in the kingdom losing most of its basic necessities health and electricity wise. We can’t let that happen. Even though I'd love to live in a world where we don’t rely on magic to survive in Yule 860.
Drys comes up to me, putting his hand on my back. I move.
“I believe you want to help. I truly do. I’m glad to have you on our side.”
“Tell that to your friend over there,” I jerk my chin to where Kaytus is standing, discussing something with August. They seem too concentrated to notice me.
“He means well. He’s the most loyal of all of us, and he’s not even from here.”
“Would have never guessed. Where was he born?” I continue looking at the pair.
“Nobody knows. Says he traveled all around the world before coming here to join August’s efforts.”
“And how long has that been going on?”
“For about seven years.”
“Seven?” I gasp. “That can’t be. August would have won by now. In just a week you’ve destabilized my family.”
“He wasn’t always on the offensive.” Drys explains. “At first the commander was alone, recently lost his job and benefits due to a misunderstanding.”
I chuckle. “There was no misunderstanding, Father simply destroyed this man’s career because he got too close to the truth.”
“The secret buried in the palace?”
“Exactly.”
“In any case, August started doing research on your bloodline, traveled all over the continent to see if there was any ethical way to throw off a monarchy that has been ruling for 150 years. He found none, so started to call for change. Around three years ago Kaytus came. They joined efforts and built the revolution as you know it today.”
“Murderers and spies,” I specify.
Drys nods, as if it were normal. “We tried talking to Calen, and sent nobles who agreed with us as ambassadors. Monarchy is outdated, and Calen didn’t help by refusing kids to the Academy. And then the cold weather was foretold by the magicians, and then the Fae stopped trading… The country slowly fell apart and he still didn’t want to know.”
“What happened to the ambassadors?”
“Stripped of their titles, as usual. No one agreed to come on our behalf anymore. And we weren’t going to risk lives, nor our identities being discovered. We simply stopped trying to make him see, and decided to attack. We waited for an opportune moment - everything was planned around your coming of age banquet. You were to be crowned, the stupid, spoiled princess. We thought it would be easy to just create a bit of chaos here and there, assassinate your bodyguard - I apologize for that - and burn down a wing, with no casualties, all being Kaytus’s ideas.”
He talks as if I am not their enemy. His tone is light, as if he’s telling a nice story. A story where they killed my lover and only friend. I cannot bring myself to fight or insult him, so I keep listening.
“But you proved us wrong. You proved to be so much more humane than we thought. Even August likes you, deep down. Kaytus distrusts you still, but spirits know he went out of his way multiple times to make sure you survived to this day.”
“I never asked for his help, not like that.” I mutter. “I don’t want to be in debt.”
“Nobody asks you to repay, princess,” Drys muses. “Kaytus has a goal and if you are important to the goal, he will keep you safe. But you know that already.”
I look at the silver haired spy and sigh. Hatred crawls back behind my ribs, hiding between my bones and veins. The only thing I feel is twisted compassion.
“Listen, I can put aside my hate, my grief if it means people will be safe. Will you do the same, Drys?” I put my hands on his shoulders.
That startles him and he looks away. “Of course. We represent the people. We don’t want to kill you, we just want a better home.”