On the count of three, I open the door. In front of me, Rigel, in all his glory, sitting on the throne, a wine glass in his hand. Mother is before him, kneeling. I interrupt her begging.

“You!” He shouts, throwing his goblet on the ground. Mother flinches at the noise and gets up. Her eyes grow wide, first with shock, then with relief.

“Give up the crown, Rigel. The revolution seized the castle.” I speak calmly, trying to assess the situation at hand.

Father is not here, there was no official coronation, Rigel was promised the crown recently, while I worked my whole life for it. People must understand. Mother holds no power, as she’s no Seagrave by blood. I’m the only one with any power here, and yet, I don’t act like it. It’s time to change that.

“You’re lying. How did you get past the guards? You are alone?”

“I killed them.” I say, amused. “Easier than I thought.” Yes. Go on, keep him talking, so he has nothing to say anymore. I’m armed to the teeth, I could fight him and win. The question is whether it should be like this. He is my brother - hated me his entire life, mocked and alienated me from Father, and yet… he is family. Just like Mother, who never did anything but obey the king’s orders - even when her daughter was in mortal danger, she just watched. Because it was easier to let someone else make the hard decisions while your country suffered.

“Norella, what do you want?” Mother asks. I glare at her, fire burning in my eyes. I hope she sees it, how much I despise her fear, how much I despise her love for Spica, instead of me.

“I want the crown!” I shout. “It’s mine by right!”

“You will destroy everything Father fought for.” Rigel says, getting off the dais. The purple velvet curtains breathe dust, when he touches them. “You dig up the secret, now you pose danger to the kingdom.”

I laugh in surprise. “I want to save the kingdom!” I glance at Mother, whose head is low, as she stares at her slippers. I feel something breaking. My patience, my plan, I send it all to pits of hell.

My eyebrows go up, as I grab a blade from the scabbard. I point it to Rigel. “You will give me the crown now. I will be crowned and will save Malachite from doom.”

“And if I don’t?” Rigel takes a step to me, and Mother finally looks up.

“Please, Rigel, maybe she’s right-”

“Shut up!” He turns to the queen, his voice shattering under her pleading gaze. “Father never trusted her for a reason. He always wanted me to take her place, he told me!” Rigel takes off his cape. There is a sword attached to his hip.

“Give up the crown or die, Rigel.” I say, my hand steady, to my surprise. I know what I must do - he doesn’t leave me a choice. There’ll be no peace in Malachite while he reigns.

“Let’s fight for it, then.” He unsheathes his sword and takes a defensive stance.

I look behind me, Kaytus nowhere to be seen. I start to sweat. I only have magic at my disposal, but it is blurry under the pressure. I cannot get a hold of it, I cannot remember the chapters, the choreography. It’s all lost under the weight of the person before me.

Shit. Shit. Shit. There's no way out of this. I run towards him, the ruby blade in my hand, Rigel lifts his sword. Time seems to slow down and quicken at the same time. I avoid the edge of the sword by a millimeter, sliding on the slippery ground. On my knees, I exhale.

I tighten the grip on my blade and cut my palm. Blood drips on the floor. I have no choice but power it up with my essence. I create a bubble of wind, protecting me from external blows.

“That is cheating, sister!” Rigel’s voice is close. I dip my finger in my blood and trace lines. Those runes took weeks to master. I hope it will be enough.

The sword hits the barrier and I let it dissipate into thin air. I slide away, and put my hands in the air. The blood runes turn into a dark mist. The mist with white eyes stares at me and I point to Rigel. My brother slices through it, and the mist shrieks, but surrounds him nonetheless.

I run towards him but a sharp pain swallows my clarity. I gasp, air exiting my lungs from the impact.

“No!” I hear, as I see a kitchen knife is inside of my leg, blood pouring on the floor. I look down and see Spica, her hands trembling, her face a grimace of horror. But she looks at me and tries to growl, but all that comes out is a squeak. I roar, desperate for the pain to go away. I kick my sister in the face. She falls down, and from the corner of my eye I see her nose bleeding. Why did she have to get in the way?

I strike but Rigel’s sword meets my blade. Even with the mist, he is able to control his hands. I cry out Kaytus’s name, but he doesn’t appear. I hold the blade, able to move my legs with gritted teeth, and push it with all my strength. Tears appear in my eyes.

“Kaytus!” I shout again. Someone pulls me by the hair and I fall on the ground, yelping. Mother stands before me, her face stone cold.

“Will you stop?!” She looks as if she has gone mad too. “Blood, there’s so much blood, don’t you see ? You’re not saving the kingdom, you’re killing your family!”

I get up and slice her arm. “It must be done!”

“I won’t let you kill my son!”

“He left me to die in the dungeons!” I push her away, the mist holding Rigel in place becoming less and less prominent. I don’t have much time.

“What?” Mother whispers, turning to the mist, but seeing nothing but specks of his sword and moving feet.

“He put me there, and left me to starve.” I grab the knife from the floor and am ready to strike once more.

“Wow! What a scene!” I hear the all too familiar voice and turn around, fear creeping up my spine.

No, no…

The commander of the revolution stands there, his bloody clothes indicating I had not lied, the castle is indeed under siege. The mist disappears and Rigel falls on the ground. Mother runs to him and holds him close, protecting him with her own body. Her big dress folds, striking with its elegance and lavishness.

I chuckle, trying to hide the rising panic. “August. What a pleasure. I was just finishing what you started.”

“Getting the crown for yourself, huh?” He approaches. He seems to be alone. No Kaytus in sight either. He said he would protect me with all he can, then why did he let August in? No. No, no, no it can’t be!

“Searching for Kaytus?” As if he read my mind. I shudder. “You still think he got you here and did not inform me?”

“What are you talking about, I got here alone.” It must be a misunderstanding. Surely, it has to.

“Lying, lying. Only thing you know how to do is lie, and even that, you cannot do properly.”

He runs to me and grabs my neck, lifting me up. I struggle against his strong grip. I’m suffocating. August’s smile is of a predator as he throws me on the floor. I gasp for air, feeling every muscle shriek from pain. My limbs ache when I get up. I throw a knife at him. It ricochets from his chest piece. Shit.

“Nice try, princess,” he smiles. “Now, who do I behead first?” He kicks Mother aside with his pointy shoe and grabs Rigel’s sword.

I decide it’s time for plan B. I get up and run to the doors. Once I pass the threshold, two strong arms stop me. Two agents I’ve never seen before throw me back inside.

“Illusion of freedom. Such an… interesting subject.”

I am surrounded, with no way out. Other doors are locked, and I don’t have either the key or the strength to slam them open. I’m shuddering with impatience. August looks at Rigel and smiles wickedly.

“So that’s your revenge? Kill all of us? And then what, August? What about the government?”

“Let the people sort that out, it’s none of my concern.” His voice is cold, his face determined.

“We don’t have time to play politics, lives are in danger!” I must play the trump card, to hell with consequences.

“How so, sweetheart?” His tone is all but sweet.

“The secret you’ve fought to learn. I undug it. I learned what’s inside. It’s a treaty, and it holds a very dark secret. But other than the secret, it is a prophecy, and it’s already coming to life!” I try to stay vague, as I see interest light up in the commander’s eyes.

“Liar.” He points the sword to Rigel’s throat.

“NO!” I run towards him, but instead of being pushed to the ground, I feel sharp pain in my gut. It’s breaking all my bones, it’s awakening all my childhood fears. I feel this pain so much it doesn’t seem real anymore.

I hear a muffled cry coming from my right. I lie on the ground, bleeding extensively. Through the pain, I grab my backpack and open it. I let one of the bottles’ liquid slide through my lips onto my mouth. Surgical help is needed, but maybe the potion that smells of lavender will help me up.

I hear echoing footsteps. The steps I know very well by now. I choke on my blood and turn to the side, to spit it out. I see Kaytus’s leather boots on a slim platform, with ebony adornments hanging. In this lightning his shoes glisten and are the only lavish thing left; the royalty on the ground, battered and dying, but he - ever so perfect, deadly calm. In another world I would have been on my knees, kissing those boots to show my admiration. But in this world, I can only gasp for air, feeling blood escape my body by the second.

As I look up at Kaytus’s hands, they’re freshly painted red.

“Kaytus?” August asks, surprise evident in his voice.

Kaytus kneels by my side, and puts his hand on my stomach, applying pressure on the deep cut. I gulp in pain, waiting for the potion to have effect. But it doesn’t come, I only feel my guts being moved around by the blood flow. It’s disgusting and it’s terrifying. The taste of iron on my tongue feels permanent. I cannot spit it out enough.

The man gently lifts my head and puts my upper body towards his, holding me close. My face is buried in the crease of his black turtleneck, but I manage to look up at him. To understand, if not all, but at least his intentions. The spy looks at August, though, as if defying him. I don’t understand what’s going on, and right now, I don’t want to. The only thing I want is to fall asleep for the pain to go away. It reminds me of my pleas to die soon back in the dungeons. I swore to myself to never be hurt like that again, but hatred always hurts, no matter what side you are on.

Kaytus gets up and growls. His back stiffens, and he clenches his fists.

“Kaytus, what are you doing?” August asks again.

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt her.” He speaks slowly.

“Since when do you care?” The commander takes a step toward the spy.

My breathing is rapid, I can’t get enough air. My lungs feel small and feeble, my heart is beating so fast but it seems not to pump blood at all. Kaytus throws a worried look at me, then to my wound. It somehow stopped bleeding but it still hurts like hell. I open my mouth wide, breathing through it; my throat itches, so I cough up blood to the side.

Suddenly, August winces in pain. His arm twists in an unnatural angle, just like the knight’s. I gape at the gory scene. Mother, standing with Rigel by her side, cries. I watch it all and the world spins. I feel like I'm going to faint from losing too much blood, but I try to keep myself awake. Every second is a fight against destiny, it seems, a fight to stay here. Even if leaving feels like salvation.

“What the hell?” August cries out, as his hand loses all strength and the sword falls on the ground. He looks at me. “Stop that!”

I only look at him, knowing I’m not the one wielding magic. No, it can’t be me. I’m too weak to break his bones. I did this stunt once, illusioned the ground meat knees, made the foreign girl cry in pain that was not really there. My magic must have acted up right now. I did not have any control over it. For an instant, I’m more scared of myself than dying by August’s merciless hand.

Kaytus’s face is wrath personified. He looks crazy, his eyes wide, mouth a thin line, brows furrowed, wrinkles overtake his forehead. I gasp for air again, and that’s when August approaches me, grabbing a knife from his side. He is about to strike, to stab me one final time - but he stops. As if held by an invisible force, his limbs are stuck in time.

The commander’s eyes are blazing fury as he watches me bleed out - thinking I’m responsible for his demise.

“She’s no killer,” Kaytus says. “But she’ll come back to finish the job if you don’t call off the siege and the revolution. This is the last warning on our part.”

The force dissipates and August crumbles on the floor, gasping for air, just like me. He’s not lethally hurt. But I know it’s painful. And based on a tear that slides on his cheek, it hurts like hell.

August lets out a painful shriek, as Kaytus lifts me up. I yelp in pain, feeling hot tears paint my cheeks too. Kaytus holds me close, nothing reassuring on his face. The commander’s face distorts in agony and he gets up, and unsteadily he starts to walk out of the throne room. The agents follow him, their eyes wide open, and their movements uncanny. As if someone else controlled them, like a puppeteer.

I glance at Kaytus and know the answer to all my questions has been beside me since the very beginning. He runs out of the empty room, save Rigel, Spica and the Queen.

My pain subsides, breathing becomes easier. My gut doesn’t pulse anymore. The scorching heat of the wound stops. I feel better overall - even if I have difficulty believing it. The man runs through halls, filled with dead guards, avoiding slipping on not yet dried blood. I put my arms around his neck.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispers in my ear, as we approach the grand door. Outside, to the dark gardens, where we can disappear into the sunset. I nod, believing him. Whatever happened didn’t settle in my mind yet. My body runs on pure adrenaline, and my thoughts are only about survival. I don’t have the strength to ask about the magic, nor about Rigel and Mother’s fate. Nor the fact that August was in the castle, just like Kaytus has said. He didn’t lie to the agents back then. Tears stream down and I understand I was played for a fool once more. This time I walked into the trap so willingly, with such an open heart I might as well let August finish the job and destroy what is left of me.

Hidden by the oak trees and bushes, Kaytus puts me down. Cold earth kisses my moist back. I shudder at the contact. It helps with the scorching pain in my stomach. His skilled hands rip off my blouse in one swift motion. My bare chest, save the breast band, burns. Kaytus puts his hand on top of my stomach again, right where it aches. Through the blood and battered skin I see the stab wound.

He concentrates and I feel something inside my stomach. It’s like phantom fingers tracing down my organs, sewing them in place. I gasp at the foreign feeling and grasp his sleeve. The man shushes me, and continues to guide the phantom fingers around my insides.

“There,” He sits up straight, giving me his coat. It’s bloody, but I take it gladly, covering myself.

I come to my senses, pain is just a vivid memory. I sigh in relief and try to sit up. Kaytus helps me, nudging my back tenderly. I’ve never felt this conflicted.

“How?” Is all I can ask.

He bites his lower lip, his gaze avoidant. “Doesn’t matter.”

“You… you sent word to August? Told him we were coming?” I ask, my voice breaking.

He looks up, then back to me. “Yes. But he promised he wouldn’t try to kill any of you. He promised he would take Rigel’s crown. And give it to the people, publicly.”

My brows furrow and I wince, fighting the urge to cry. “How could you?”

“I trusted him and I paid the price.”

“You? I was fighting Rigel and August alone,” I bleat. “You betrayed me once again. I am not surprised, I am disappointed in myself for believing you would ever switch sides. I knew you were not to be trusted, and yet, once again!” I talk fast, not even understanding where I am going with this. He has heard this all before and it never changed his foul mind. There is no reasoning with a terrorist, Father told me. He was right.

“August won’t touch them for now, I know it,” Kaytus whispers, gripping the grass. “But must we kill them, nonetheless.”

I chuckle, getting up slowly, my head still dizzy. “As if I’m about to trust you again. As if I didn’t nearly die by your hand too.”

“I saved you,” he speaks, hurt if anything.

“You wouldn’t have to save me if you didn’t betray me in the first place,” I scowl, holding my backpack close. I feel faint energy emanating from it. The scroll is still there, safe and sound. I let out a sigh of relief.

“I know. I’m sorry. I am.” he tries to find my eyes, but I ignore him.

“Go to hell.” I spit out, pushing his hand away. “Go to hell and burn there for eternity in the embrace of your sins.”

The wind pushes the dead leaves off the ground. They circle around our feet. I hear people running, a mix of voices. We stand still, trying to see where they’re coming from. Kaytus puts his hand on my cheek and opens his mouth, and then, I hear a crunch. Blood splatters on my hands and coat.

Kaytus gulps, and looks down. An arrow pierced his chest. It broke through the ribcage. Right in the middle. I cry out his name, as he falls on the ground, holding unto his wound.

I stand there, fear rushing through my veins. I try to keep my body steady, watching as revolutionaries arrive from every side. Our route is blocked. We wasted too much time. Kaytus breathes hard, his whole body shuddering. There are no viable options, as August’s soldiers approach. With each step, I feel more and more panicked. I look at Kaytus, who raises his head and looks at his comrades.

I stand forth, keeping my fingertips on his shoulder. I circle around him, glaring at the soldiers. They are well armed, swords, knives and even a fire gun. We surrendered such technology long ago. Rules have changed, and war made the people into animals. I continue walking around Kaytus, making sure no one attacks him.

Traitor. Liar. Snake. Murderer. I see myself in him. I call myself by those names too, when I try to fall asleep, guilt creeping up on me. It’s like a disease, as I look down quickly, knowing well I could leave him to his fate. Traitor. Liar. He saved me, he had used magic. I still feel his phantom touch inside of me, healing what was hurt, making me believe him everytime he does something endearing. I am but a crazy girl, searching for goodness where there is none. Snake. Murderer. He is everything I despise in humanity, but in the end, what I am ready to do, what I was pushed to do - would turn me into the same creature of malice. So be it. I have chosen my side, and let the fates decide if I am wrong to put my faith into something as dark and poisonous as him.

“You have a choice: surrender or die.” One of the soldiers states. I sneer.

I won’t let him die here. Not before he has seen what I am truly capable of. For my kingdom, for my crown, for myself.

“And if I do surrender, what happens to him?” I glance at Kaytus. He is in bad shape. It wouldn’t take long to finish him off. One last arrow, and he’d lose too much blood, so much even a potion and healing magic wouldn’t help.

“He dies. Traitors are not welcome at the HQ,” I grunt under my breath. That is no choice, that is an ultimatum. “But I don’t think that would matter much to you? Since he killed your favorite bodyguard.”

Of course they would use that to destabilize me, to veil my judgment. Kaytus knew that dealing the lethal blow to West was the most effective way to break me. It didn’t unfold exactly like he had planned. By feeling the hatred emanate from the soldiers, I understand something vital to my mission. They do not want Kaytus to live because of the treason he committed. Then, it is my cue to use that against everyone, the silver haired spy included.

I glance around for any escape route and find none. Kaytus’s head is lowered, as if he already accepted his fate. I’m becoming jumpy, and if I had a gun, I'd be trigger happy at this point. Fatigue is slithering inside me. But with fatigue comes something I was trying to keep locked underneath manners and reason all my life. The insatiable wrath that will burn the whole world if I let it out. I start to move my fingers rhythmically, as if calming myself. But only for a second.

My hands clench in a fist and I close my eyes, sighing deeply. I speak to no one in particular. I need to say these words, because I’ll feel better once they’re out. I’m proposing a contract written on no paper, signed by no hand. It’s just a frail phrase, “I can’t do this all over again,”

With a roar, I blow the remains of my energy around me, staggering the soldiers. It’s our only chance, so I grab Kaytus’s hand and run. His hand is bloody, but so is mine. I pull him, as we sprint outside of the gardens, to the main gates, to the open streets. Magic burns my body, eating at it, as I move my legs faster than ever.

I keep the wind barrier up until I can no longer breathe. My legs turn into jelly as I lash out the rest of my magic. I don’t have time to stop and drink the blue potion Kaytus has given me. I rely on the force gifted at birth, and that force is depleting with every passing second.

We only stop once the palace is far, and that’s when I finally let go. Exhaustion overwhelms me and I slide to the ground, hands and knees on the cold concrete. I breathe through my mouth. Everything hurts and I know with one stab, with one fired bullet, I would be lying dead on the ground. I don’t know whether Kaytus would have tried to bring my limp dead body out of the fire zone. I don’t know if he would have tried to save me one last time. It’s wishful thinking, to hope he would have given his life to save mine. Just like he promised he would all those weeks ago.

Kaytus kneels, spitting blood. A trail in the shape of his fingers paints the wall all the way down to the ground.

I don’t know how, but I feel a surge of magic inside of me. It’s faint, but enough for me to use it. It’s as if Nature gifted me a little more, just this time. I use this restored strength to sit and grab a potion from my backpack. I drink its contents and let the magic restore bit by bit. My fingers follow my orders once again. It’s a mysterious feeling of impending doom, blessed with the power to overtake the whole world if need be.

I imagine the sharpest pair of scissors, the ones I once saw seamstresses use in the palace. They appear in my hand and I cut the backside of the arrow. I take off the other part through his chest.

The man manages to stay awake. I put pressure on the wound, remembering things I’ve learned while searching for a way to save West in the Academy’s library. Then, with a free hand, I imagine a needle and a thread.

I’m about to perform a surgery in the middle of Argenis. I can barely see a thing. The sun is down, and the shadows from the buildings hide us. It’s a perfect slim street, with nobody around, but the downside is that I can barely see anything. Cursing the guards and hoping for the best, I summon a lamp. It lights the area and I know it’s dangerous: we are so easily spotted now. But his bleeding doesn’t stop and his rib cage is broken. I must at least try.

My hands tremble, but I put the thread in the needle. I fail multiple times, still, I persist. Like I did before. Nausea makes it difficult to concentrate, yet, I stitch the wound up. It’s gory, it’s scary, it’s nothing I’ve ever wanted in life. I have memories washing through me, of my early childhood, of my parents, of my brother and sister. I miss the skin and curse.

I put the needle in the meat and continue working. Cold sweat drops fall from my forehead on his ripped blouse. “Come on…” I struggle.

Once the wound is stitched, I put my hand on it, press and call out to the spirits of nature. I call out to life, to the most beautiful thing of all. I cry its name, in my mind, I imagine Kaytus walking, his skin clear, no wound, no pain. I put this image out in the real world. I pray, as I press my fingers on top of his ribcage. I feel something move underneath them. It’s like the phantom fingers, but they are not mine. It’s his own bones, rearranging themselves. The ribcage is restored.

I call for the blood to disappear, to free itself from the shackles of his body. Kaytus opens his eyes wide and coughs up dark liquid. The blood leaves through his mouth and nose. It’s not truly blood. It’s a sticky black substance, leaving his body like a million little snakes. Their red eyes pierce through me, as they hiss and slither away into the sewage. That feeling of impending doom is gone the minute they disappear into the water canals. What the hell was that?

Kaytus is now fully aware of his surroundings, breathing fine. No lungs damage, no cracked bones. He is fine. I sit back, my mind a simple void. No thoughts run through it.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Norella,” Kaytus touches his wounds, and only sees stitches, bloody skin, but no opening, no flowing blood. “Thank you.” He whispers.

He looks up and our eyes meet. He pushes forward, balancing his weight. His hand trails to my cheek. I accept the gesture, as I’m too tired to push him away.

“I was sure you’d surrender.” His voice is raspy. He coughs to the side. Dry blood paints his lips. I can’t stop myself from smiling. A nervous laughter pierces me. I feel my lungs will with much needed air and I exhale, chuckling.

“You are wrong about many things,” my energy is drained, but we are both alive. We made it out. It’s time I cursed him out for the stunt he pulled. For the double faced games he played. Personal agenda or not, he betrayed everyone. For a mere second I feel bad for August. Then I wickedly smile, realizing that this stunt may have advanced my efforts. August must be scared, one man should fear magic. I never thought of my, or any other mages’, powers this way, because it is forbidden by the ethics of our world. But, in reality, a man, army or no, should be terrified of the things I can do without fighting physically. I can close my eyes, click my fingers and a firearm would appear in my hand, if I knew how it looked.

I glance at Kaytus, seeing vivid images of August crying somewhere when the truth of his position hits him. He might have been a hunter all his life, but now it is time to turn the tides. When you throw ethics and guilt out, the only thing awaiting you is victory. Did August and Kaytus both made this assumption and now paid for their foolishness? Maybe. But I am not them. I am better because the hatred I bear now is deeper, so much deeper than wanting to protect my people, wanting to save family, or restore whatever innocence I had before the coup. Now it’s all about getting revenge, and I know it will be sweet. I know my hands will be bloody, and I accepted it, like I accepted to die twice already.

“Norella,” Kaytus says, looking for me in the mist of my thoughts. I am too far in my dream, that I barely feel his fingers twitching against my skin. He abruptly takes his hand off my face, sliding it to his hair. I give him my attention now.

“What were you saying about killing them all?” I ask, looking at the dim stars popping in the sky. Under the yellowish-red rays his face is iridescent. I push the thought away.

“I’ll show you the true headquarters. And we’ll burn the place to the ground.” His voice is cold, his tone deadly. I smile at the idea.

“That easy? No trick?” I turn to face him. He lowers his head, and looks straight into my eyes.

“August is a madman, and his soldiers won’t listen to reason.” he tilts his head. “There is no other way.”

“You told me so many lies. You brought August right where he wanted to be. Say one thing that will make me believe you.”

He doesn’t hesitate when he speaks, “You were right. I thought August would listen. I thought he would trust me. But he doesn’t care about democracy,” he snarls at the word. “He doesn’t care about peace and the people. He only cares about vengeance. Killing you all. I don’t want you to die, Norella. Not after everything that was done.”

I move away, confused by the sudden surge of emotion. He shakes his head, his hands scribbling meaningless drawings on the ground. It’s dirty, as if the cleaners haven’t been working properly.

“This is the truth. You want to restore the kingdom to what it should be. Ruled by the people, granting them freedom, even if you’re the one holding the crown. You are not corruptible, if you were, you would have destroyed all of us, through ministers, through other nations. But you wanted to receive the crown peacefully, by yourself. You wanted to make it right. You care about people’s lives. And that is the ideal we share.”

I am left speechless for a moment. I care about people, but I want some people dead. Is it truly being selfless and righteous? Is he seeing this through his blood-stained eyes?

“I am no saint, Kaytus. I put my trust in you - and it backfired more than once. This time I won’t make the same mistake.”

I get up and take a look around. He follows suit.

“Shelter for the night, I leave at dawn.” I start walking towards the city gates. Kaytus stops me, with his hand on my shoulder.

“You need me.”

“Indeed,” I snark. “I do. But how can I trust you not to betray me when this situation arrives at its climax?”

I raise my eyebrows when he puts his hands up in the air. The wind becomes harsher against our skin. The leaves flow around and pieces of litter clank against each other. The weather turns stormy in a matter of seconds.

His eyes close and open, turning brighter than before. “This is a gift I’ve hidden well. I played my cards so nobody, except for you, could guess I possess it.”

I am surprised nonetheless. I knew, deep down. From the very beginning, maybe.

“I don’t understand why it makes me trust you,”

“Because if they know, they will know something else too. It’s a package deal.”

“You’re talking in riddles, I don’t have time for this.” I push him with my shoulder and go further into the city. “I will find the headquarters by my own means, and I certainly don’t need you to do so.”

Still, he follows. He is silent, but still, I feel his presence. He is close, nearly behind me, never letting me out of sight. I know it because now that I am sure he is a magic wielder, I feel his energy. It’s pouring out of him, like a beacon in the dead of night.

“How does it feel to be betrayed by your ‘lover’?” I ask, not taking my eyes off the road.

I take the smallest streets, where nobody can see me. The windows are shut, stores are closed. The city seems abandoned. A weird sight for the capital of the mighty Malachite. Who am I lying to, it was never a mighty kingdom. It was an illusion.

“How did it feel to lose your friend? Killed by the woman you earnestly follow through mud and storm.”

Still, no answer.

“How does it feel to have it all in front of you and let righteousness fail you in the decisive moment?”

Silence.

“You didn’t want me to die, but why? August made it so easy for you. He practically laid us all bare in front of you. You just had to strike once more and the monarchy would have died in front of you. We would have all perished. But you decided my life was worth something. Isn’t it funny, Kaytus? Isn’t it exactly what you wanted to avoid?”

I let all of my anger out like this. I say things I know are hurting him. Because there is no other way to make him pay. Through my own vice and heart, I cannot kill him. I am no killer, not like this, not him. So, what other revenge can hurt as much as death? Stabbing words, piercing the heart and leaving wounds that will never heal.

“You were so self assured, so confident about your abilities, about your plans. You’ve played your role so well. You lied your way through the palace, you lied so well, I nearly believed you were on my side. All of this for what? You’ve never cared about the people. You followed August like a puppet because of what? Sex? That’s lowly, even for someone like you.”

I grit my teeth as we approach the wall. The gates are closed and there are no guards in sight. Too dangerous to push them open alone. So, I climb the bricks, after putting the invisibility spell around me. I hold my breath, moving my legs and hips, until I’m on top, overlooking the city. Nobody can see me, not even Kaytus. I watch the red lines completely disappear behind the valleys. The night is upon me.

“You were nothing but a puppet in the end. And you paid the price. Now you are no one. Those you trusted, and those you spent years working with, see you as a traitor. Which you are, Kaytus. You are nothing but a filthy, two-faced traitor, and nothing you say, nothing you do, will ever change how people see you. How I see you.”

I left the city grounds through the river, not using the bridge full of guards. I would have never passed through the men, not when the whole city was supposed to be on lockdown. Spirits know just how much chaos Rigel has sown while I was scheming our infallible infiltration.

I ended up soaking wet and smelling foul, but alive and magic restored. If Kaytus decides to stick around, even after everything I said, I will question him. There are too many things left unsaid, and I could live without knowing them, but if there was a chance to satiate my curiosity, I would take it in a heartbeat.

I went to the nearest village, where I found a tavern. Hot food, bathe and clean clothes. That was my dream of the day.

I opened my backpack and grabbed the purse full of sepha. Kaytus had put it from his stash back at the cottage. Muttering a good evening and a thank you, I paid for the room. Kaytus stood behind me, stone cold face and dead eyes. No more twinkle inside. As if his magic has been washed away by the river.

The village’s economy was based solely on nobles coming to rest after a long voyage, to clean themselves before entering the capital. Ever since the revolution started showing its teeth, the village fell into disarray. I knew it, because Father told me things like this. He didn’t mention the revolution back in the day, but now it was clear as day. Father never openly said anything, and I had to read between the lines. I never did, and that was my crime.

The tavern owner was very happy to see two bloody people with money to spend entering his place. He had given me a key, told us breakfast was served at dawn, on the first floor. He had not asked questions about our health, or our destination. Maybe he saw Kaytus’s uniform and recognized it as revolutionary rags. Or maybe he was too greedy to care about such unimportant details.

When we entered our suite, I started taking off my clothes, put them in a pile outside - waiting for the maiden to take them away to clean and dry.

Kaytus stood at the entrance, like a statue, unable to go further in. I didn’t care enough to ask, and continued putting a towel around myself as makeshift pyjamas.

I eyed him carefully, marking his every breath. He ended up taking off his turtleneck too, putting it in the same pile of dirty clothes. He took off his shoes and put a towel around his shoulders. He stood by the bathroom door, waiting for something. I couldn’t stop the rolling of my eyes, as I settled on the edge of the bed.

Food was brought to us on a wooden plateau, with two pairs of ragged forks and knives. Chicken breast in lemon sauce, mashed potatoes with pepper flakes and two glasses of mead.

I thanked the servant at the doorstep, as I took the plate inside. We sat on the floor and ate in silence, looking everywhere but at each other. At times, Kaytus coughed, as I did, feeling the tang of blood on our tongues. Mead helped.

“So you decided to stick around,” It was not a question, but still, I waited for his response.

“Words cannot hurt me,” Kaytus answered, putting his plate away.

I was holding my hands, while Kaytus played with the skin around his fingernails. It was becoming too awkward to persist. I shrugged.

“Why did you stay?”

“To bring you to the headquarters. I could leave after that, if you wish.”

I gulped. I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted him to disappear. I shook my head.

“We still made progress, even if we betrayed each other multiple times. Maybe this time we could work together even if we don’t trust each other. But, you have to answer my questions first.”

“We have all night,” he mused, no light in his eyes. I tried to grasp his magic, to check if it was still there, but there was nothing. Void, as if it was never truly there. A carefully crafted mask he wore since day one. Just for how many years has he been hiding his nature? Seven, at least.

“I always wondered how it is possible you have gray hair, with such white ends?”

I expect a normal reaction, some explanation about some hair magic coloring invented by the Academy somewhere in Hanwi or Celeste. However, his eyes open wide. “What?”

“Your hair,” I touch a strand, chin bobbing. “It’s a weird color for a man your age,”

He tilts his head, as if assessing the situation.

“My hair is blond,” I laugh at the silly statement.

“Why are you lying now?”

“What color are my eyes?” I wanted to answer ‘green’ but something was telling me there was more to it. They weren’t just green. They were bright, even at night, they shone with an eerie energy I always pushed away as sunlight.

“Uh…”

“Answer!”

“They’re seafoam!” I say, putting my hands up. “What’s wrong with you? It’s just a question, I’m not torturing you!” I huff in displeasure, not understanding his movements. He shook a bit, then started touching his features, his fingers moving around his ears, eyes and lips.

Kaytus stands up, pushing his head back. He mumbles something, as he circles around the room. His eyes are blazing, there it is. The magic.

“You are not supposed to see that,”

“Oh, so it’s like a magic trick? Glamouring your true hair color and eyes?” I settle against the wooden edge of the bed, waiting for him to spill it all.

“Smart, are you?” he snarls. “Yes. I have glamoured my true appearance since I was eighteen.”

“Eighteen? That’s how long you were with the revolution?”

“No. I glamor because otherwise I’d be in mortal danger,” he smirks. “How come you see my hair and eyes but not my ears?”

“Your… ears?” he shows me his ears, and they are completely normal ears. A little pointy at the side, but I’ve seen many people with such ears. Some had big elephant ones, animals from the Southern continent, some had small ones, just the conch, with no skin. “Human as they can be?”

“Who the hell gave you the anti-glamour spell and didn’t finish their job?” His question is full of mockery. I just sit there, eyes wide, not knowing what to say.

“You mean to tell me your ears are different than they appear?”

“Do not play dumb.” He snaps.

“What? Don’t use that tone on me, spy,” I get up, hitting him on the chest. He winces at the fresh wound. “Show me what you are then,” I say, ready to see a disfigured ear, or something. Maybe complete absence of it.

“If I show you, you must promise you will trust me wholeheartedly. No more games. Not from me, not from you.” I want to laugh, but it doesn’t come around. Is he serious?

“This isn’t how trust works. I won’t trust you in any case. I will simply satiate my curiosity. There is nothing else to it.”

He closes his eyes and his mood changes. His brows furrowed and his fists clenched. He is deliberating. He puts his hands up to his face, and slides them down. Pushing back his long bangs, he shows me his ears. They are long and pointy, pink and soft, with gold and turquoise ornaments on them. But they’re not earrings, or any sort of jewelry, they’re his skin pigment. As if he was born with such curves and lines and dots on his ears.

Fae. He was Fae.

I take a step back, exhaling in surprise. My chest hurts for some reason.

His gaze falls to his hands. They have the same ornaments, delicate, perfect tattoos on his fingers, hands, arms. The pants hide the lower part of his body, but his chest, it’s perfectly human. Toned and hairless, but human.

My mind remembers West, when I saw him naked, his whole body was human too. No designs, nothing out of the ordinary, except for his ability to become a shadow, and his eyes.

“Fae,” I breathe. “All this time you could use magic. All this time you could have…”

“Could have what, Norella? Could have broken my cover I’ve been so carefully working on all these years?”

“I… I don’t know.” I say, turning around, to catch my breath. My senses become magnified. If ancient gods are real, I hope they are ashamed. I turn red, my heart beating faster.

“I’m half-Fae,” Kaytus confesses, sitting on the bed. “Doesn’t matter how or why, but I inherited their magic, their designs, as well as my eyes, ears and hair. I don’t have their agility or ethereal beauty.”

West’s blurry face materializes in my mind. I remember how I used to paint his face in my dreams, and was unable to complete such a perfect portrait. It was too foreign for my brain to recreate. Hearing Kaytus say he didn’t inherit Fae’s beauty was a bit unsettling. He was the most beautiful man out there, and yet, he was only half-Fae? How were men in the Seelie Court, then? So handsome, that human women would swoon at first sight? Give up their bodies and souls to have one night with such a specimen?

I tilt my head, scanning his features, and realize I cannot get enough. I could stare at him for hours, days, months, and never get tired of it. My breathing is rapid, even if I try to control it. My skin tickles and I want to wash this rash away. That awful, disgusting carnal desire I feel cannot be satiated by anything, not even the crown I thirst for. All the times I thought I was filthy for even considering him beautiful now made sense. It was in their nature, to be so beautiful, to antagonize us, humans, in ways we would never think of. Seduction is a power I never took seriously. But looking at him now, bare chested, with his pointy ears and parted lush lips, I know I am a liar. If he asked me to beg to look at it once more, I would. Just to get another glimpse of that; and I haven’t even seen him whole.

My eyes drop to his pants and I swallow hard. The silence is deafening. He waits. Maybe he thinks I am planning to kill him for the secret he held on for so long. I want to laugh. Only if he knew what truly passed through my mind right now.

“Question is still there, though…” I try to sound calm and collected, joining him on the brink of the bed. “You told me I’m not supposed to see through the intricate glamor. Then who helped me see?”

We look at each other and the truth snaps between us like lightning.

“The shadowguard.” He whispers.

I slide further, sitting against the headboard. “Just before he died he whispered something, something I didn’t catch, thinking it was a goodbye or a promise, I don’t know. But he was putting the clarity spell. Because he knew you were Fae.”

“He couldn’t have smelled the glamor, it’s impossible.”

“Then how did he do it?” I raise my voice. “How did he know?”

Kaytus waves his arms in disbelief. “I don’t know. Maybe he found a way to nullify my powers, but that would take research, and he was always by your side.”

“Did you kill him because he was unto you?” I stare at his eyes, those eyes that bewitched me for so long.

“No. I killed him because it would break you,” He says, too calmly. “Because that’s what August wanted.”

I nod. “He tried to save me one last time, even when he was dying.” I whisper, but no tears appear. I don’t have to hide them, I don’t have to swallow any sobs back, because there are none.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbles, heading to the bathroom. I glance at the spot he was sitting on and touch the sheets. My fingers graze the harsh fabric and I cannot stop breathing through my mouth. I feel hot and crazed by something. Is this the truth finally settling in, or is the adrenaline of nearly dying that descends?

“Tomorrow we burn down the HQ and we kill August. No excuses, no tricks or lies. We do it my way. There are scores I have to settle.”

“I know,” he says and disappears behind closed doors.

I’m desperately trying to fall asleep when he returns to the bed. He sits on the edge, and I feel his gaze on me. I shiver and hold my breath.

“It didn’t break me,” My lips twitch. I don’t know what I’m trying to prove. And to whom. To myself? To ease the past wounds, to make myself believe West was not an important part of my life growing up?

He sighs. “No, it didn’t.”

I turn around, facing him from my pillow. “It broke my family, it made Rigel do unspeakable things. It made Father even more paranoid and it killed Auretta, and other loyal knights. But it didn’t break me.”

Kaytus goes to the other side of the bed and lies down. “You know my secret now. If you were more knowledgeable in Fae politics, you would sign my death sentence.”

“I know enough about politics,” I snarl.

“No, if you knew enough you’d send word to Otherworld’s queen,”

“Why are you telling me this?” I turn around, to face him again. His face is hidden by the curtains’ shadows.

“I don’t know,” he smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. His hair is disheveled and his ornate hands hide underneath the pillow.

I’m curious. I trace my finger on his temple, pushing away the hair. It shines a bit, like tiny stars, even in the dark. I touch the shell of his ear. Sliding my fingers on its elongated shape, I’m deep in thought. I don’t really care when Kaytus sighs.

“I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” he mutters. If I didn’t know better, I’d consider it sweet.

“What’s done is done,” I responded, nonchalantly. I pull my fingers back and get more comfortable under the sheets. It’s cold outside, and it slithers inside the second floor of the tavern.

I look at him, and his eyes have never been so calm, so at peace. Only when the rain stopped us halfway to the capital today, his aura felt at peace, even if it was for a short period of time.

“I only ever wanted one thing in life,” he starts, gazing into the void. He turns on his back and puts his hands on his chest. “Justice for those in need. Justice for those forgotten and used by the government.”

“Understandable,” I mutter, sleep now a distant memory. I don’t know if it’s his body being so close that pulls me awake.

“I fought for it, blood and sweat. I did what I was told, because I thought it was the right thing,” he continued, closing his eyes. I fight the urge to touch his hair. “I hated royalty. Hated you. My whole life I hated those in power, those who punished the weak and allowed the rich to commit atrocities. I was filled with hate to the brim, and no one was able to pull me out of the pit. One day I met this boy,”

I get on my elbows, to see his expression better. His eyes show no pain, no sorrow. His lips are moving, but I don’t feel anything other than content.

“He was maybe six, seven years younger than me, dirty, famished and sick, since birth. Had some sort of lung issue. He helped me clean my horse, for one of my first jobs here, on the human continent. He was talking while I listened. He told me he wanted to see Argenis once. Said it was in a peaceful kingdom, with no armies, no weapons and no war. Malachite’s capital. One of the six gem countries.

“I said this place hated the likes of him. Filthy, poor, sick. And he looked at me and smiled. And said It’s okay. I know I’m weak and sick, but maybe they’ll let me see it one day. I hear the king is very kind. As is the queen. And their princess is just my age. She seems sweet too.”

Kaytus swallows hard, but continues, staring at the ceiling.

“I met the boy a year later, when I was passing through his village. He looked tired, he was on the brink of death, but still, he helped to tend to my horse. I asked if he had visited Malachite, and he said no. Said, they didn’t let him in, even though his family had saved money for the trip. They even sold their livestock to make their only son happy.

“I started to insult the royal family, I started to hate them even more. But the boy only smiled, looking at me and said, Why are you so mean? There’s no need to insult them. They must have their reasons. I’m okay. I forgive them. He said that even though he knew his time was approaching.”

Kaytus sighs.

“I left the village promising him the gates to Argenis would be open to anyone willing to do the trip. He hugged me and returned home. The next time I returned there, he was gone. I went to his house, asked to see the grave. His mother told me magic had killed him. She said no Academy was willing to take someone so weak and sick into their ranks.

“Only years later I learned, through contacts, that it was magic that made him sick in the first place. And the Academy could have saved him from his demise. They could have done something - but they decided to let him die. His own government and Calen decided to kill the boy, out of pride, out of greed. I could have forgiven the monarchy, but I decided not to.”

My elbows hurt, when I lie back down. “I’m sorry,” is all I can muster.

“Do you know why your father killed all these kids?” he turns to me, his eyes stone cold. I squeeze mine shut.

“I think he wanted to hide the Treaty. So he let the poor die, so people would think it was because of status, but in reality, if magic was too strong for the kids, they’d die in the Academy anyway. And that would create much more chaos than some poor kids dying in a random village.” The words are cruel, and I hate the taste they leave on my tongue.

Kaytus nods. “I think so too. I’m glad August hurt him.”

I turn my face to him, clenching my fists. “He is my father,”

“He also is an awful king to his people. You know it.”

I turn around and curl up. “Yes, he was.” I say, through gritted teeth. “He was a bad father too.”

Kaytus puts his hand on my shoulder and I quickly turn around, facing him, keeping myself elevated with my hands on the bed. I stare at him. His hand traces down my arms, and his eyes are glued to mine. I hold my breath, sensing menace in his movements. He could strike me down right now. With all the hatred he bore inside, it wouldn’t surprise me, if this all was a plan to take me down. Just how much can a person lie to obtain their goal?

I put a hand on his neck, slowly, tentatively. Kaytus doesn’t budge. He continues to touch my naked arms, his fingernails sometimes scratching my skin.

I squeeze it a bit, feeling his pulse under my palm. I feel the blood pumping, but pull it away. Afraid of myself, of what I let myself do for a moment. I fantasize about killing him, even though I don’t want to. I feel hot when I think of his lifeless body, spread on the bed, dead as it can be. Now that I know he is half-Fae and naturally possesses magic, I cannot let myself touch him like that. I should never play this game again. I promised myself I would not lie anymore. Even if I didn’t say it out loud.

So I pull away, but his grip holds me in place. He sits up, his eyes unyielding. “You want to kill me?” he whispers, so close to my face.

“No,” I move my head closer, my neck hurting from the strain.

His face approaches mine, so slowly, I have time to back away. Time to flee. But my body is frozen in place, I don’t dare breathe.

“I don’t want to kill you either,” his lips barely move when he says those words. His eyes darted up and down, from my eyes to my lips. Tempting me.

I open my mouth, to say something, anything, to avoid the heavy silence. It’s weighing on us like a spell, and I don’t know how to counter it. Kaytus frees one of my arms, pulling his hand up. Though he hesitates, his fingers find their way to my cheek. His palm envelops the right side of my face, as he tilts his head a bit.

His grip is strong, but it doesn’t hurt. He hasn’t hurt me in a while - yet I did. I can’t shed the feeling of guilt. I will hate him forever for what he has done, but I could learn to…

He exhales, his breath hot against my skin.

I am not like the boy he told me about. I’m worse. Much worse. I cannot forgive even those who are cold, buried six feet under.

“What happens if Astral learns of you?” It’s the only thing I dare to ask.

The man doesn’t move away, his thumb still caressing my cheek. “She’ll kill me for treason. I stole something from her long ago. She will never let me forget it.”

“Why did you tell me?” I ask, moving closer.

“I explained already, I want you to trust me,”

“Why?”

He breaks eye contact and pulls his hand back. His other hand is still around my arm, but his grip is feeble.

“Because you will make my dream come true,” he looks away. “Because you, as Queen, will make kids like that boy, have a better life.”

“But what about the Treaty?”

“You’ll figure something out,” he shrugs, lying back down, and turning his back to me. My arms ache from the position, and I lie down as well.

“You must help me,” I say, facing the ceiling. “Otherwise I’ll sell you off to the Otherworld.”

“Trust doesn’t work this way, huh?” he chuckles.

Silence falls over us again. It’s heavy, and my heart doesn’t calm down. It beats fast, and I’m afraid that his Fae ears would hear it. I hide under the blanket we share, and try to calm my breathing.

I swirl and turn, unable to find sleep. I feel cold fingers interlace with mine. It’s so dark under the blanket, I don’t see the silhouettes. I bite my lip and stop all movement. Even my heart seems to skip a beat or two.

“Sleep,” I hear from above my blanket cavern.

“Can’t. It’s too hot.”

“Then push this off,” Kaytus lifts the heavy blanket from my face, exposing my shoulders. I’ve been in a towel all this time, it’s edges holding on for dear life around my chest. His gaze travels to my collarbone, where my breasts meet the fabric. “I can’t sleep either.”

“Feeling hot too?” I ask, mockingly.

“Not at all,” his hold on my fingers tightens. I gasp in surprise. “Anyways. Try to get some, otherwise we’ll miss breakfast.”

He lets go of my hand, but keeps looking at me. He is playing games. Dangerous games. I huff, taking a look at my hand, the one he’s been holding seconds ago.

I say his name under my breath and slide closer to him. “I hate you so much,” I whisper into his ear. He groans, but this time there’s more to it. It’s not annoyance - it’s more guttural, deeper. I let my left hand travel to his bangs, curling them around my fingers. “But I’ve always wanted to trust you.”

He raises his brows. “You make me want to fight,” I speak as quietly as I can. “With you here, maybe I stand a chance of taking the crown.”

He turns to me, his right hand, finding my own hair. He puts a strand behind my ear. “I’ll never betray your trust again. I swear.”

“On what?” I breathe.

“Everything I hold dear.” He answers, his eyes full of determination. “I will protect you until my last breath.”

Those were his words back in the castle. The interview comes back as a wave of memories. His attitude, so confident and distant, lying, angry deep inside. He hated me, the disgust had filled his heart. Mine was too, filled with pain and blinding anger. I remember it as if it was yesterday.

Now, I’m lying beside him, vulnerable and easy to kill. His guard down as well. I could have tried to get him to pay. I could have made him pay for all the pain he brought into my life - and yet, my hands found his face.

I surprised myself at how gentle they were. “Good,”

He puts his palm on top of my hand. His face is an unreadable puzzle. He chuckles. “Your heart has been racing ever since we lied down.”

Blush creeps up my cheeks, and I feel hot again. Something shuffles inside me, insects crawling in my stomach, in my throat. I feel hot between my legs, and finally, the realization of what’s happening hits me.

Afraid of what I might do in the dark of night, I get up, pushing him away. Kaytus follows me without hesitation. I face the door, breathing hard. It’s too hot in here, and I need to leave. Now. My hand is on the doorknob.

But Kaytus’s hands find my waist and pin me against the wall. My cheek is against the cold door. He says nothing, but I know what he’s thinking. And I know I’m thinking the same.

It’s undeniable, it’s dangerous and overwhelming. He turns me around with ease, as if I were a lifeless puppet. I face him, bucking my head to lock my eyes with his. He is tall and his shoulders wide. My arms are pinned up, his breath heating my forehead.

I look up to see him biting his lip. He’s so close, I am inches away from his chest. He shakes his head, as if debating what to do with me.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask, daring. He won’t do it. He hates me as much as I hate him.

What we do is powerplay. What we talk about is the future of Malachite, not ours. What we share is a common goal - nothing more. So, I play his game.

His eyes settle on mine, stars dancing there.

“For you to submit,” he says.

I chuckle dryly. “I’ll never submit again.”