“Have you ever killed someone?”

Arina’s question caught me off guard. “…You know I killed Vivian.”

“The mercenary? No, not like that.” Arina sighed, looking up from the freshly-signed aid agreement back to the portrait of her family on the wall. “I suppose what I mean is: have you ever killed someone when you weren’t fighting for your life, when you didn’t strictly need to.”

I thought back to all the people I’d killed—Dhias, what a chilling thought it was that I had a hard time remembering. “I suppose I have, in a way.”

Arina looked down from the portrait to the agreement, then met my unsure gaze. “In what way?”

“Well…” I remembered High Priest Grants most freshly, but also Prince Malich. The latter… well it could easily be argued the alternative was a fate worse than death. But the former… “I did it to help someone I loved, and perhaps because I didn’t want them to stop me from attaining the life I wanted.”

“Why kill them?”

I frowned and looked down. “They wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t even give me a chance when all the evidence pointed in my favor.”

“Did they need to die?”

I shook my head. “Probably not, but I didn’t want to risk it.”

“Risk what?”

“My sister losing everything she worked for. My wife being thrown in a cell for the next century.”

“Did you make the right decision?”

I looked up from the floor that I’d been staring at and followed the duchess’s gaze once again to the family portrait. “I don’t know. No? Or was there even a right decision?”

She glanced at me and smiled sadly. “I have no idea. All I know is that it hurts, and that’s what war is like.”

I grimaced. “Your husband…”

“Killed in the war, commanding troops.”

“Ah.” I lowered my head. “My condolences.”

“Thank you.” Arina rose and collected the signed agreement, its ink barely dry. “Come, let us see if there is aught you may help Kerra with this afternoon. As per our agreement, two wagons with my own guards, supplemented by the Gelles Company, will take the safest and fastest route south.

“All you’ve left to do is aid us until sunset.”

I rose as well and looked out the window. The day was long, but not yet fading—time enough to hunt a demon.

“I’d like to avoid another war, Marchioness Miller.” The duchess said softly. “While it’s beyond our agreement, can I have your word you’ll work to avoid further bloodshed between Ordia and Edath?”

King Carvalon might be wishing for war. Duke Reynard as well. Peace is still enforced by treaty, but only for another few years.

Still, I don’t want war, do I? Do I really, after all my travels, want so much for a name on a map that I’d allow bloodshed?

The answer was clear, and I reached a hand out and bowed. “You can, Duchess Arina Kapel. I will do what I can to avoid bloodshed between Edath and Ordia, just as I will work to end the war with Envy.”

Arina took my hand and shook it firmly. “Thank you, Zarenna.”

I smiled broadly, despite my unfortunately human-shaped teeth. “Thank you, Duchess. With this, Astrye will make it through winter.”

She nodded, and together we left the room into the hall beyond. Guard Captain Kerra practically threw herself out of the waiting room when we approached, and two of her own were just leaving.

“There’s another victim!” Kerra skipped the formalities, jogging of the servants and waving us forward. “Renna—er, Marchioness—follow me! There’s a trail this time, and we might catch them if we’re fast.”

I glanced at the duchess.

“Go,” she said. “I’ve much to do now that I’m back, and I’ll need time to explain my current condition as well as to make plans for finding the exact nature of the attempt on my life.”

With a nod, I jogged after Kerra.

“It’s riverside, and there’s a trail through today’s snow across the riv—aiiii!”

She shrieked as I swept her up into a carry. “Which way’s out?”

Kerra beat a now-gauntleted hand against my arm, but pointed anyway. “Put me down!”

“You’re too slow.”

“Just because I am short, doesn’t mean—"

“You’re human. Short or tall doesn’t matter—and I planned to fly us there.”

“Fly us.”

“How do you think I carried the duchess here?”

“Carried?!”

I may have let a third arm slip out to get us through the front door ahead of the slow-moving servant—but I put it away right after. “Riverfront, right?”

“By the old cemetery, just west of—”

“Got it!” I kicked off the stones of the front plaza and pushed skyward, wings of flame bursting from behind with enough force to carry us over the estate.

Kerra lurched, looked down, and went pale. “Y-you…”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I warmed the air around us, eddying a little pocket so we could speak more easily. “Would you rather we were slower?”

“I’d…” Her words devolved into grumbling, but I caught a few choice swears.

“I might need you to point me where to go.”

“I don’t know what my city looks like from the air!”

I pointed at the shining ribbon of water below and ahead of us. “There’s the river—go from there!”

After more grumbling, we made it to the scene in short order. Discretion would have us land elsewhere and walk in. Rather than waste time, I dropped just outside the circle of guards keeping people away from the scene. The few onlookers scattered as we landed, and Kerra hopped quickly out of my arms with a pointed glare. I looked around the scene and all I saw was disturbed snow and a single, broken headstone.

Kerra barked orders; I stood there trying my best to look helpful rather than menacing. I didn’t think I succeeded, but at the very least no one tried to stab me. I was introduced as a powerful, passing mage who’d volunteered to help—not wholly inaccurate.

“The tracks lead out onto the river,” one guard finally said. “Whoever did this has a lead and didn’t look to be struggling despite carrying someone.”

“Is this ice thick enough to pursue?” Kerra asked.

“Mostly, but we’ve found thin spots—my brother’s foot even went through.”

“I could track them from the air,” I offered. People flinched when I spoke, but I just smiled right back at them.

“Can you see well from the sky?” Kerra asked.

I hadn’t seen a forest across the river before we’d landed, just a few trees scattered along its wide channel. “I can.”

Captain Kerra nodded. “Go then. We’ll be here if you need us.”

I expected someone to question Kerra’s order, but no one did. They trust her judgment.

With a running jump toward a gap in the trees, I took off. Below me, a trail of booted footprints led off across the frozen river. Under a deceptively-smooth blanket of snow, it would be difficult to tell where the channels of water flowed across the river’s width. The mudflats I remembered riding into town with Myrna across were frozen over, and I used the line of packed snow where the road was to help position myself.

Across the river were scattered farms, in the direction of the footprints. It all seemed simple until the prints split into three sets, erasing any doubt that this was a mundane situation. I couldn’t see any other disturbance in the snow. In fact…

The prints moved in a straight line, in three straight lines after splitting. Over frozen channels and potential thin spots in the ice without a care and without a stumble. Shit.

I flew faster, and higher, scanning over all three trails as they made their way to the far bank. Only one made it, the other two ending short and abruptly near the edge. I landed for the third, not bothering to hide my speed as I sprinted into the trees.

Like the others, this one ended abruptly. But not before the “person” had walked through a tree and up the bank without even changing the angle of their feet or the length of their stride. I was right, this is magic to throw them off.

As quickly as I’d come, I ran back, took to the skies, and sped for the graveyard where Captain Kerra and her guards were. In the city beyond, I saw a dark, thick trail of smoke rising. Not again.

By the time I’d landed, Kerra was already shouting orders, the smoke clearly visible.

“The trails were made by magic!” I shouted. “All decoys!”

Kerra pointed toward the thickening smoke. “Go then!”

I nodded and took off yet again, this time heading straight for the source of the smoke. My human guise didn’t feel very believable when I stopped bothering to move like one, but I kept it up for now. Sowing more panic wouldn’t help—and shouted orders to humans tended to go better when they thought I was one of them.

The smoke was coming from an unfamiliar building, although it was near a familiar church. The shattered glass and burnt wood had been cleaned up, but its hollow windows glared darkly across the small square from under hooded lids of snow and ice.

Could it be Vivian? Could I have made a demon?

The burning building was old and abandoned—perhaps just a signal to draw attention. Aura sight showed me nothing in the open expanse, but I caught a glimmer of something through the ruined windows of the old church. I touched down in front of it and looked up at the symbol of Dhias above the door.

Last time I was here, I’d made perhaps the biggest mistake of my new life. Since then, in such a short time I’d grown so much, though not all in pleasant ways.

I walked inside, alert, ready, and my head held high. A little twinge of fear in my mind wasn’t felt in my heart and I realized I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t uncertain, or hopelessly naive. Perhaps I was worse for it, but I didn’t mind—I needed a little ruthlessness. I needed lines drawn in the sand.

My eyes didn’t need to take time to adjust to the dark of the inside. Snow drifts lined the inside of the windows, and the floor was scorched and chipped. Where the pulpit had once stood was a crimson-skinned demon, and in her hands was a familiar, if battered crossbow. She had two pairs of upward-pointed horns, a tail lined with spikes, and brown-on-black eyes filled with malice. Fury washed off her in waves.

“Vivian,” I said calmly. “Or do you go by a new name now?”

“I’m not surprised you remember.” She smiled, showing rows of teeth eerily similar to my own. “You seem to care more about strangers than your friends, after all.”

“Is this all your doing?” I felt outward with the wind—others were approaching, and I doubted they were human.

“Oh, do you not like that I’m finishing what your daughter started?”

What? How does she know?

I must’ve made a face, because she laughed and hefted the loaded crossbow. “Poor Wrath… too scared to think straight. You’re pathetic, you know that?”

I expected her words to slice into me, but they just seemed to roll off. She was right, once. But I’d moved on, while she’d stayed stuck in the past. I took a confident step forward.

Vivian’s face tightened, and she raised the crossbow. The bolt at the tip glowed, but not with holy light—with crimson fire. “Do you remember this? It wasn’t hard to find it. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re so fond of humans when they’re so pathetic.” Her smiled widened, but the pity I felt wasn’t for myself. “Oh, right, I suppose it's commiseration.”

Now, I could see some auras through windows. Greater demons, by their look, although not particularly strong. Perhaps a dozen? Those I could see didn’t feel like Wrath to me.

“Angel got your tongue?”

In response, I let my human form slip away, calmly putting my other arms through unbuttoned sleeves made especially for them. All the while, I kept up a glare.

Vivian’s smile faltered, then grew wider into a manic grin. “I see it now! You? YOU? I didn’t believe it, but I guess whatever chooses Sovereigns is worthless.”

Instead of responding, I glanced down at my black-clawed hand then took another step forward. Vivian’s finger twitched, but she didn’t let the bolt fly. She was still far enough away that I doubted I’d get to her before she could react. However, all I had around me was an empty church and other hostile demons.

Collateral damage? Well, this twice-desecrated place should really be rebuilt from the ground up anyway. So I wasn’t scared. I thought about what I was, however: Sovereign, Marchioness, Wife, Mother, Sister. I favored mercy, but was willing to kill. And I needed to be home for all those roles tonight. I had the power to end this quickly; I was going to use it.

“I am your Sovereign.” My voice wasn’t raised, and my words weren’t imperious. All I was doing was stating a fact. “Out of grace, I will offer you one chance to submit to me.”

Vivian’s eyes widened, before she laughed harshly.

“Do you decline?” I continued, surprised at how even and steady my voice was. All the training for putting on a noble mask was really paying off. Or was it a mask at all?

“Decline?” She snorted. “I think I’m better suited as a Sovereign than you are.”

Her words snapped into the air, and I knew from the fraction of a stutter in her movement that she felt them too. A challenge to my title, and a damnation of her one last chance.

A pity.

Vivian fired, aiming low where I’d run into it if I charged. Expecting it, I jumped instead—demon or not, she had to reload, and I had wings now. The bolt slammed into the wall behind me, blowing out chunks of stone and scattering mortar into a fine dust.

With her offhand, Vivian threw a gout of crimson fire at me as a dozen other demons burst into the room. Under an assault of attempts to wrest control of my mind, I faltered for just a moment. Strange illusions swam before my eyes and the flames hit me in the side.

I cursed, but the confident grin on Vivian’s face faltered when she realized her fire hadn’t hurt me in the slightest. Looking down at the now-ruined coat, I brought my fury to the fore.

Not. Another. Fucking. Outfit.