Chapter Twenty-Eight

Raimie

The rattle of a key in its lock woke me up, and blinking, I sluggishly got to my feet. Eledis was in much the same state while a handful of guards were standing outside of my cell, intently watching me.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

They didn’t answer, of course, not even when Eledis started shouting variations of the same question. As soon as the door opened, they rushed me, pinning me to the bars of my cell, and I endured their pat-down of my body with many an eyeroll.

What did they expect me to do? Slaughter them? That wasn’t possible or…

Glancing at Dim, I made a face. If I’d wanted to, I could probably kill everyone here without a problem, but that just seemed… wrong.

I didn’t mention this as they marched me out of my cell, past Eledis with his red-faced shouting. We entered a staircase in the cellblock’s corner, hidden behind a door.

After a long climb, we emerged into sunlight, and I lifted my hands to shield my eyes. Once they’d adjusted, I stared down a host of swords and hollow tubes, frowning as I slowly lowered my hands.

Since arriving in Daira, I’d noticed how every guard here had a bent metal pipe hanging from their belt, but I hadn’t thought much of that, assuming those pipes were part of their uniform. From the way these people were pointing them at me now, they had to be a weapon instead.

I was a little confused, though. How could a tube kill me? Sure, the guards could beat the shit out of me with it, which would eventually accomplish that goal, but it would take a long time. Stabbing me would be much more efficient.

“I won’t attack you,” I said, displaying my palms.

Gradually, the guards lowered their weapons, and I was prodded into a garden.

Once it had surrounded us, I nearly stopped short, keeping my legs moving through sheer force of will. As we marched beside a manicured lawn, I kept my head on a swivel, barely aware that my mouth was hanging open, but awe wasn’t what had caused this reaction.

“I could swear I’ve been here before,” I said under my breath.

I watched a child version of me climb that oak tree, looking for a place to read, or race across the grass, laughing with his imaginary friend. It was a disconcerting sensation, one that wouldn’t relent. So, when a noise cracked through the air up ahead, I welcomed the distraction with relief.

As we moved along, the popping noise got louder until I realized we were headed toward it, and at my side, Bright shrunk on itself while Dim looked increasingly intrigued.

The guards led me into a section of the garden, cordoned off by trellises. Here, we found an archery range, although the practice dummies in it had blackened rings around their wounds and far too much straw spilling behind them.

Opposite this, a picnic table sat on cobblestones with a pair of attendants standing behind it. On the table, variants of the guards’ bent pipes lay in parallel fashion, but what rested above them, perpendicular to their pattern, zeroed my attention, toppling me into the most tunnel-visioned state I’d ever achieved.

Shadowsteal, the sword I’d abhorred since finding it, waited for me there, and I longed to touch it. In a blink, Dim and Bright were standing there, greedily devouring the table’s contents, before lifting avid eyes to me.

“This belongs in your hand,” Bright said.

“Claim it, Raimie,” Dim added.

I wanted to. Gods, I wanted to, even if temporarily.

But first.

Dragging my eyes off of Shadowsteal, I focused on the woman who was standing at the range’s ready line. Today, Queen Kaedesa was an entirely different person from the one who’d caught me and my grandfather in Sev. Rather than the commoner’s clothing that she’d favored then, she was wearing a magnificent gown, all silk and lace. Instead of a simple bun, her hair was piled into an intricate arrangement, and a regal air hung heavy on her now.

Hell. The Queen of Ada’ir had summoned me, not half a day since my jaunt outside of my cell. Did she know? Why had she brought me here? Oh, gods, if this was an interrogation and I was to do it alone—which really, I should have expected—then I was doomed.

Kaedesa finished fiddling with the hollow tube she was holding, pointing it at a target. She pulled on a lever, wedged into the crook of its angle, and a deafening bang ripped through the air, right as a target’s heads was blasted off of its shoulders.

“Fuck!” I shouted.

Although with my ears ringing, my voice had been silent for me.

I stumbled backward, tripping on myself, and one of the guards caught me, as if expecting my reaction. What the godsdamn hell had that been? It- it-

Swinging my gaze between the decapitated target and the queen, I couldn’t breathe; my heart was jammed so hard into my throat, and the sight of Dim, manically jumping in place, only mitigated this by a fraction.

When Kaedesa beckoned, an attendant hurried forward to take the weapon from her, all while she removed something from her ears.

“-one of Oswin’s designs?” I picked out of the world’s buzz.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Shaking her head, Kaedesa said, “I should have expected as much. All right. Send the prototype to the smithy. See if they can recreate it.”

“And the rest?” the attendant asked.

Kaedesa glanced at the table with a frown.

“The same,” she said, “but make sure they’re lower priority.”

Bowing, the attendant said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

She gathered the other tubes while Kaedesa faced me, clapping her hands in front of her nose.

“Ah, yes. My newest guest,” she said.

Looking me over, she scowled.

“Why is he in shackles?” she snapped. “Take them off immediately!”

The guards exchanged a glance before one of them stepped forward.

“Your Majesty, based on what happened last night, your palace guard is hesitant to leave him unbound around you,” he said. “Your safety-”

“I’ve read the report, sergeant. Even with that, I’m confident that I can defend myself,” Kaedesa said, pulling a tube from her skirt to show him. “Plus, Raimie wouldn’t hurt me, would you?”

When she turned her eyes on me, I stiffened.

“No. Causing you harm in your stronghold would be stupid. If I tried that, I wouldn’t make it out alive,” I said, “and I don’t hurt people. It’s the decent thing to do, after all.”

Something crossed Kaedesa’s face at that, but it quickly cleared, and she waved at the guards.

“You heard him. Release him and leave,” she said with the weight of a command behind it.

With many a quiet grumble, the guards did what she’d said, and rubbing my wrists, I watched them disappear behind a trellis.

“Please, join me,” Kaedesa said.

Squaring my shoulders, I stiffly strode to the table, folding into the chair opposite the queen. While she retrieved items to lay on the table, I examined her. Keeping my attention on her was difficult with Shadowsteal lying right there, but I had to decide how I should play this.

Thanks to Ferin’s etiquette lessons—who’d have guessed I’d be grateful for those?—I knew that I had options. Should I act like one of Kaedesa’s subjects, giving her deference, or would treating her as an equal be better? According to my family, I had the same standing as her, although as an exiled royal, I should offer her greater respect than I might show to someone of the same rank.

Kaedesa, however, didn’t know that I came from the Audish royal line, and I wasn’t sure if I should play that card yet. So, what should I-?

“What has your face so scrunched with concentration?” Kaedesa said.

Still wrapped in my thoughts, I said, “I’m deciding how I should address you.”

When Kaedesa burst into laughter, I went cold at the realization that I’d said that out loud.

“I- I beg your pardon, Your Majesty,” I stammered. “I didn’t mean- I wasn’t trying-”

Waving at me, Kaedesa said, “It’s fine, Raimie.”

“Still,” I said, “I must beg your forgiveness-”

“Raimie. Please,” Kaedesa said, rolling her eyes. “For this conversation, treat me like you would a passing acquaintance, setting aside rank. It tends to get in the way of the truth.”

Truth? Oh, no. What truth did she want from me?

“Over the last few days, I’ve considered the question your grandfather posed in Sev, and I’ve come to a decision about what I’ll do with you,” Kaedesa continued. “Before I can finalize that, though, I have a few follow-up questions, ones I’d rather ask you instead of your grandfather. I mean no offense with this, but he irritates the hell out of me.”

Before I could stop it, laughter overtook me, and I slapped my hands to my mouth, trying to contain it. When I could, I cleared my throat.

“Eledis usually has that effect, yes,” I said.

Narrowing her eyes, Kaedesa picked up her quill, wetting it.

While writing, she murmured to herself, “Subject refers to grandfather by the man’s first name. Interesting.”

Raising her gaze to me, she chewed on her quill while I worked through what she’d meant. Subject?

“You have questions?” I asked after a moment.

“Mm.”

Lowering her quill, Kaedesa tapped it on the table, leaving behind ink dots.

“First, a personal question,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

And again, I had to decide how I’d behave. Did I stick to the polite road, or did I answer as I’d like? She’d enjoyed my previous deviations from protocol, encouraged them even, so…

Tilting my head with a smile, I said, “I don’t have much of a choice about it, do I?”

Kaedesa smirked.

“I suppose you don’t,” she said. “So. Your name: Raimie. It’s quite short for a human.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

When she stopped speaking, I frowned. Had there been a question in there?

“You’re not the first to comment on that,” I said. “What does the length of my name have to do with anything?”

“I want to know where you’ve come from. I’ve already set my spies on accomplishing the task, but why shouldn’t I explore the clue that’s been dropped in my lap as well?” Kaedesa said. “So. Considering you have a name of Eselan length, do you have traces of said race in your blood? Or was the choice simply a cruel peculiarity of your parents?”

“Wait, what?” I said, drawing back in my chair. “What do the Esela have to do with my name?”

Kaedesa stopped her quill’s tap on the table.

“Because it’s Eselan,” she said. “They use names with two or less syllables while humans have three or more. You didn’t know this?”

“No,” I said.

Why hadn’t I known? Was this another fact that my family had kept from me, or was it common knowledge, something they’d thought I’d learn over the years?

“I don’t have Eselan blood in me, more’s the pity,” I said. “Having magic would be…”

Trailing off, I shook my head. I already had magic, didn’t I? When I glanced at Bright and Dim, hovering behind Kaedesa, they grinned.

“I guess I could be part Eselan,” I mused. “My mother chose my name, and I don’t know much about her history, although I’m fairly certain she was human.”

Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms.

“Linking the syllables in someone’s name to their race, though? Really?” I said. “Who thinks up these stupid social norms?”

With a cough, Bright pointed at Kaedesa, who was bent over her journal, and I winced.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wander off like that,” I said. “Did that answer your question?”

“Not really, but it’s ok. It still helped,” Kaedesa said before straightening. “Thank you for the honest answer.”

I inclined my head to her, and while she considered her next question, I let my gaze drift to the sword, sitting between us. When I touched it again, would degrees of light drape over the world again? If they did, would that be the only reaction I experienced, or would something more come to plague me?

“That’s one reason I summoned you this morning.”

Kaedesa brushed her fingers over Shadowsteal.

“I found it while inspecting your grandfather’s belongings,” she said. “I already thought you were strange. Why would someone so young and bright-eyed get involved in a rebellion? But then, I saw this, a blade that clearly belongs to a seasoned warrior, and my puzzlement deepened. How did it fall into your hands?”

Should I be insulted by this? Eledis and I weren’t ‘seasoned warriors’, but hearing that fact spoken aloud stung.

Still, Kaedesa’s question trod on a delicate subject, so in the end, I kept my answer simple.

“I found it,” I said.

Lifting an eyebrow, Kaedesa said, “Care to elaborate?’

No.

“I found the damn thing in a clearing, and within a day, my life was uprooted,” I hissed through my teeth. “I was dragged to Fissid. Once there, I escaped the town while it burned down around me, was nearly murdered, and have been on the run ever since. All because of that go- Alouin damned sword.”

Maybe if I displayed enough disdain for the sword, Kaedesa would consider it less important than it was.

“But you don’t hate it, do you?” Bright asked. “Not anymore.”

Narrowing my eyes at the splinter, I shook my head. I didn’t hate it. Because it was needed, I’d even touch the blade, but I still didn’t want to wield it. Someone else could hold that role.

“So, you admit your involvement in Fissid’s destruction,” Kaedesa said.

But her tone had changed. There was something dark in it, even if she was wearing a carefully blank mask. She stared at me as if waiting for a response, but I didn’t know what to say, which had been a common issue today.

“Well, you can’t tell her the whole truth, obviously. She smells like she’s ready to murder you,” Dim said. “Hedge.”

I’d already known that, but a traitorous part of me couldn’t follow Dim’s suggestion. The corpse-faces of Fissid’s residents were staring at me too intently for that. So, I scrubbed my eyes with a grimace.

“I had a hand in it,” I said with a thick voice.

In the silence, the snap of Queen Kaedesa’s quill was loud, and I lowered my hands to accept her wrath, only to be greeted by Dim, growling in my face.

“You’re hedging in the wrong direction, idiot,” it snapped.

“I know,” I quietly said. “Trust me. I know.”

Hissing, Dim got out of my face. The splinter had blocked my view of Kaedesa long enough for her to regain control. The only evidence of her reaction to what I’d said was a broken quill and an ink splotch on her journal’s page. She was currently drawing another quill into view with a flush to her cheeks.

“For weeks, I’ve been working on learning what happened in Fissid, trying to understand how someone could…” she said before slamming a fist on the table. “Those were my people. Good. people.”

Slowly, I breathed out, fighting with myself. I couldn’t have a breakdown in front of a queen.

“I know,” I said.

Snarling, Kaedesa scribbled messy letters in her journal before snapping her fiery eyes up to me.

“What about Paft or Lancik or Drigel?” she snapped. “Did you massacre everyone in those towns too?”

“Wha…?

Rapidly blinking, I struggled to understand what she’d said.

Lancik. Paft. Drigel. Those had been towns where my people had stopped to restock. They were gone?

“H-?”

Clearing my throat, I tried again.

“How?” I asked. “What happened to them? Please.”

Kaedesa, who’d looked ready to strangle me, paused with a confused expression on her face.

“They were burned to the ground with no survivors,” she said. “Don’t you… know that?”

No survivors. Burned to the ground. Like Fissid. But… I’d thought…

“I told you he was still hunting you,” Dim softly said. “‘His Volatility piece says hi’. Remember?”

I shot to my feet so quickly that my chair clattered to the ground behind me.

“THAT. FUCKING. BASTARD!” I roared. “Why would he kill so many people? He could have gotten what he needed without murdering them. I helped those people! Why- why would he-?”

Slowly, Dim rested a hand on my shoulder.

“His Volatility piece is… demanding,” it said. “If he weren’t under their influence, I doubt he would have gone this far.”

Gasping, I said, “That- that doesn’t-”

“Excuse what he did? Make sense?” Bright said. “No. Nothing to do with your enemy ever will.”

“Oh, gods.”

I pressed a hand to my mouth, barely holding back tears as realization hit me.

“He won’t stop,” I said into my palm. “He’ll spread a swath of death in my wake until he catches me.”

“Or until you’re strong enough to stop him,” Bright said.

Which would be never.

Dropping to my haunches, I tangled my fingers in my hair, tugging on it.

“All those people,” I said. “Alouin, all those people. It’s my fault they’re dead.”

The crunch of footfalls stopped in front of me, and someone pulled my hand free of its tangle, nudging my chin up. Crouching in front of me, Queen Kaedesa examined me with an empty expression, which I was grateful for. Even dazed as I was, if she’d shown me compassion or pity, it would have sent me over the edge.

“You didn’t set fire to my people’s villages,” she said.

It wasn’t a question, but I shook my head anyway.

“You have, if fact, killed none of Ada’ir’s citizens,” Kaedesa continued.

When I shook my head this time, my insides twinged. Even now, I could clearly see a criminal’s face, the man I’d killed during my second trial, but I shouldn’t mention that now.

Shifting to sit on the ground, Kaedesa said, “Tell me what happened.”

So, I did. I didn’t share everything, but I relayed most of what had happened in Fissid in a monotone voice. When I was finished, Kaedesa cocked her head, looking into the distance.

“Accepted as truth,” she said.

Waving at someone, Kaedesa righted my chair before helping me into it. While she circled the table, the remaining attendant pressed a glass of water into my hands, and I sipped it, waiting for the queen to finish scribbling in her notebook.

When she rested her quill atop it, I set my cup down, ready for the questioning to continue.

“Who is this man hunting you? He has, in essence, declared war on Ada’ir and must be brought to justice for his crimes” she said. “If we have a name, my army can start looking for him.”

How had I told my story without mentioning a name?

“He’s a powerful battle mage,” I said. “Goes by Teron, I believe.”

Something shifted in Kaedesa’s eyes.

“Teron?” she said. “Chief of Doldimar’s Enforcers for the last few decades?”

With a half-shrug, I said, “Maybe? I’m just sharing what I’ve been told, Your Majesty.”

Turning inward, Kaedesa brushed her quill’s feather along her jaw.

“If it’s him, I wonder why he wants you dead,” she said.

“To get rid of a threat to Doldimar’s reign? I don’t know.”

I realized too late that Kaedesa had been directing that question at herself, not me. The flat stare she was showing me propelled me straight from a numb state to the world of the hyper-aware.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Swallowing hard, I said, “Um.”

I looked for help anywhere I might find it, but the attendant from before was impassively gazing at me, Bright and Dim shrugged, and the target dummies had nothing to add. The reminder of Kaedesa’s tube did, however, encourage me to tell the truth.

“There’s a… foretelling about my family,” I said. “It claims that the person who found that sword—”

I tossed a hand toward Shadowsteal.

“—would return to Auden, freeing it from its conquering darkness. I assume that means Doldimar, but I don’t know how much credence I’d give it. After all, it’s a foretelling, but even still, it drove my family out of our home and drew Teron to me.”

Narrowing her eyes, Kaedesa flicked them between Shadowsteal and me.

“And who is your family to have so much attention paid to you?” she asked.

Releasing a sigh, I slumped in my chair. Apparently, I’d have to play this card.

“Descendants of the Audish royal line,” I said.

Wordlessly, Kaedesa tried to flatten me with her gaze.

“Really?” she said without inflection. “If that were true, I’m fairly certain my little birdie would have told me.”

“It’s what I’m told,” I said, glancing over Kaedesa’s head.

I also knew it to be true. Before, I’d had vague sensations in my head, making me believe the story, but sitting here, getting scrutinized by a queen and withstanding her, it was etched into stone inside of me. Centuries ago, one of my ancestors had ruled a kingdom.

A quill’s scratching drew my gaze to the table.

“Subject begins to display irrationality,” Kaedesa said to herself. “After a lengthy, logical conversation, this comes as a surprise. Perhaps the older members of his family have indoctrinated this belief in him?”

Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms, which had Kaedesa looking up at me.

“Let’s change subjects,” she said before pointing her quill at me. “Tell me how you got out of your cell last night.”

Holding perfectly still, I glanced at my splinters, pleading for their help.

Huffing, Dim said, “Lie, of course. Unless you want to get strung up.”

When I focused on Bright, it grimaced.

“The insufferable ignoramus makes a good point,” it choked out.

Great. I was about to try misleading a monarch. This was just great.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “I slept on a cell’s cold floor until your guards woke me up this morning. Besides, if I’d managed to escape, would we be having this conversation right now?”

Slowly, Kaedesa lowered her quill’s point to her journal, holding my gaze as she wrote in it.

“Only now does the subject lie to me. It took longer than expected. Subject uses logic to convince me of the story he’s selling. Clever tactic, that.”

I held the queen’s gaze, but she was resolute. Eventually, I gave in.

“If I may, how would I have escaped, if I’d done so?” I said. “The only way out was through a locked door, and I can’t pick a lock to save my life.”

Resting her quill on the table, Kaedesa said, “We shall see.”

She rose from the table, and I was quick to join her.

“You’ve given me much to think on, child, and most of it was unexpected,” she said. “I’m afraid that my answer to your grandfather’s question will have to wait a while longer.”

Quick to note the change in her tone, I bowed to her.

“I am at Her Majesty’s disposal,” I said.

Nodding, Kaedesa gestured for her attendant.

“Have a room prepared for our new guests,” she said, “and find out who put them in a cell last night. I need to have a word with them.”

With a bow and a ‘Yes, Your Majesty’, the attendant scurried away, and Kaedesa turned her attention on me.

“You realize that if you won’t admit how you escaped last night, I’ll have to double the guard on you,” she said.

“As you should know that I’ll do my damnedest to reach my people while there’s still breath in my body,” I said.

With a smile, Kaedesa said, “We have an agreement, then.”

She extended a hand, and firmly grasping her wrist, I shook it. When I released her, Kaedesa rested her fingers on Shadowsteal’s hilt.

“You were eyeing this throughout our conversation,” she said. “Would you like to take it up once more? Once we’re done here, it’ll go into my collection.”

With a dry mouth, I said, “You’d let me do that?”

“I don’t see why not. Yes, right now, you’re my prisoner, but that’s a loose status, and if you are from the Audish royal line, unbelievable as that is, I should foster a good relationship between us,” Kaedesa said. “Besides, I have this if you try anything.”

She waggled her tube into view, and I struggled to control what was swelling in me.

“I would very much like to hold it,” I said. “Thank you for allowing it, Your Majesty.”

“Of course.”

Kaedesa waved at the table, and breathless, I reached for Shadowsteal. When I wrapped my hand around its hilt, Bright appeared center stage with Dim cowering behind it.

“Feel the whole,” it said.

I wasn’t sure what it was talking about, but something was different. It thrummed through the air, something so powerful…

Tensing, I staggered backward as a mote of light sped for me, but with its light fading, it only sunk into my body, leaving no physical sensation behind to mark its loss. More appeared—from the grass, from the queen, from the guards coming around the terrace—and as I absorbed them, the thrum around me grew stronger, falling into a beat.

I tilted my head back, shivering at the harmony running through me. This was the epitome of peace.

“Not the pistols!” Kaedesa shouted.

Snapping my head down, I barely stepped out of the way of a blade, swinging for my neck. In slow motion, the guard who’d chopped at me recovered, but I casually stepped around her, placing my hand on her chest. White light flared from me, and the guard flew toward the opposite terrace, buckling it on impact.

And all the while, motes of light… of Ele flowed my way.

The other guards converged on my position, but they couldn’t touch me. I danced among them while they moved at a snail’s pace. With a beat pulsing inside, I disarmed or otherwise incapacitated them all, although something within me refused to kill them.

Once only groaning bodies surrounded me, I examined my perfectly accomplished task with satisfaction, flicking Shadowsteal in rhythmic circles around my body.

Gods, this blade had been well-crafted. Feel how perfectly balanced it was.

“Raimie.”

Spinning toward Dim, I both rejoiced and recoiled at the sight of the splinter’s hunched state.

“The forgetful one’s still pointing a weapon at you,” it croaked.

The forgetful one? Who-?

No, wait. Someone with a weapon. Kaedesa!

Dropping Shadowsteal, I tripped over a downed guard in my haste to retreat, scuttling backward once I’d hit the ground.

“I- I- I- I-” I stammered.

What the fuck had I revealed to the woman who held my life in her hands?

“I’m guessing that’s never happened before,” Kaedesa said, rather mildly.

When I nodded, she retrieved her quill and journal.

“Subject displays special abilities when using a unique blade. Perhaps I should give more credence to his claim. The Audish royals were known for their proficiency in combat, after all,” she said before snapping her journal closed. “You certainly made quick work of my guards.”

Oh… shit.

“I’m so sorry, Your Majesty,” I said. “I don’t know what came over-”

“Oh, stop,” Kaedesa interrupted. “I expected something like this might happen.”

Offering me a hand, she hauled me to my feet while releasing a piercing whistle. As another group of guards came into view, she brushed her skirt off.

“Well, this was fun,” she said. “I look forward to our next meeting.”

Turning to the guards, she said, “Take my guest to his room. He’s to be treated with respect, but while you escort him, keep in mind what you see here.”

Without a word, the guards surrounded me, and Kaedesa smiled.

“Until next time.”

Then, I was led away, completely frazzled by the last half hour.