Given the smells which might accumulate outside of a noble’s window, it is often the case that flowers are planted outside. Recently, botany has become widespread enough for even commoners to participate in this odor alleviating habit. Should you be among them, remember this! The mother and father shall have a bed of Hyacinth, and the young ladies and lads must have Lavender. To confuse these, or to invent your own combinations is a sign of classlessness and carelessness.

It took some navigation from the courtyard to reach Icara’s room, moreso from the princess frequently pausing in her journey. Her eyes would lock onto pieces from when she was a child, and the memories would make her hesitate. Even as the servants gave her odd looks, she’d twitch her eyes and mutter in thought from seeing them. In the end, it took nearly an hour to make it there.

Koshchei opened the door and allowed her in first while he remained at the doorway. Before she entered, he made sure to unlock the chains on her wrists so she could inspect the room properly. She stepped into the room slowly and looked around. The dream from earlier creeped into her head, and she found it still fresh in her memory.

“You haven’t changed it at all?” She asked, looking back to Koshchei.

“I thought it might’ve been a bit distasteful after the death of... well, you. Aside from that, we’ve just never had a need to expand it. I don’t have a wife yet, nor a child, so I don’t expect that to change anytime soon. Why, did you want to sleep here for the night or something?”

Her feet carried her over to the window and she placed her hand on the open window sill. Staring for a moment, the dream from last night passed over her as well. The sickness plaguing her stomach started to fade and she turned back towards the king with a focused glare. He cocked an eyebrow from her sudden fortitude as she spoke.

“No changes at all? Then where are the flowers?” Icara asked, running her hand along the unobstructed wood. “There was a row of wonderfully scented flowers right along the window here. I remember because the scent they made helped wake me up every morning. They were lavender, inside of a small row right here.”

She leaned against the wall beside the window confidently. A note of his deception gave her a moment of pride, self-assured that he may have lied even more. Upon noticing his muted reaction, her confidence faltered slightly, and she folded her arms as a nervous habit. Koshchei entered and offered out one hand. Icara felt in the instant before he spoke that something happened when he lifted his hand. A spark of static energy snapped faster than she could see. Her heart raced a little faster and she narrowed her eyes to focus on his words.

“Are you completely sure about that, Icara? You’ve been away for over ten years and all, perhaps you’re confusing it with another room...?” Koshchei asked.

“No, I’m absolutely sure of it! I had a dream last night that took place in this room and it had the flowers there. The only thing to consider now is why you would remove them. Too hard to maintain? Did you think I wouldn’t notice a detail like that?”

“You know what? Let’s indulge this idea of yours a little. Maybe I purposefully removed them recently to see if your memories of this room are accurate? Though it is also equally likely that I had them removed to see if you had an unnatural amount of memory for the room itself. Which do you think it is, Icara?”

She hesitated as the words broke her swell of confidence. Eyes locked onto the floor, she struggled to pick one of the options. Both had a solid chance for accuracy, but she couldn’t be sure of it. Her hands sweat a little from where they were tucked under her arms and her brow furrowed more and more. The dream came back to her memory, and an idea with it.

“Neither. The real reason was as you stated at the beginning, but now that you’ve brought me here, you just wanted to see my reaction to it. You want to see if I’ll act differently to how you predict I would act so you can judge for yourself how easily you can control me while I’m here.”

Koshchei nodded his head a few times. “That’s quite a good guess. Don’t you think you’d be falling right into the trap then, even if you were to figure it out?”

“Yes, but obviously I’d have to make a reaction to that if I noticed it. The odd part is the fact you were so confident in being able to know that I’d notice something like that. Even if it was something that woke me up every morning, how would you know that?”

“I didn’t exactly spawn into the world the moment your parents died you know. Before your parents died, I was your god father and an advisor to the throne. How else do you think I claimed the throne so quickly?”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

She closed her eyes a second and tried to recall any memories of Koshchei she could. All she could think of was his face in other events. Things like getting her breakfast, sitting in her father’s lap while Koshchei spoke. It was only after a little tremor passed over her mind that she realized a more worrying idea. Try as she might, she couldn’t remember how she knew Koshchei killed her parents. Though she could remember him being there, she had blank space where the actual deaths happened. Koshchei sensed her fear and took a step forward once more.

“You’ve had a terrible thought haven’t you? Did a bad memory work its way into your head, Icara? Maybe something about your parents’ deaths?”

“Like how you killed them?” Icara asked back, her voice sharpening out of fear. “Stop acting like you can read my mind, you’ve barely done anything like that! That dumb theory of yours is just a convenient explanation for all of the trouble I’m having. Don’t challenge my state of mind with things like this like I’m some sort of experiment!”

“Oh, so you’d like me to indulge your fantasy again? Well let me ask you something again, Icara. Do you believe the murder of your parents was for the better, or worse of the king—”

Before he finished, Icara surged forward and grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off the ground and growling animalistically. She held him at her mercy for a few seconds until she realized he was only looking at her out of pity. With a lurch, she threw him down onto the floor, where he landed in a semi-sitting position while she loomed overhead.

“Don’t you dare say their murder could be justified. Who cares if it improved things for the state, you can’t sacrifice people just to fulfill your own deranged delusions!” Icara shouted, pointing a finger at him while tears welled at the sides of her eyes.

“Your hypocrisy is almost astounding, Icara... I love it dearly.” Koshchei said with an eerily warm smile. “How can you, with a blood streak as long as the distance you’ve walked here, claim that murder is unjustified? Surely you’ve thought at one moment or another that a man or woman you’ve killed had a family at home. Do you think your justifications are any better than mine?”

“I killed out of self defense! Of course it’s fair to fight for your own survival, no one would deny that as a legitimate justification!”

“But how far does that claim go? Have you taken steps at every turn to avoid people? Have you sought not to harm them fatally, knowing you could outclass someone? Did you once ever offer them the chance to surrender or run in earnest?” Koshchei asked, the smile dropping to a somber look.

Icara reeled slightly at the questions. As each resounded in her ears, she remembered some of the lives she had taken. Though they all fought her first, she could remember some were never warned of her strength, they looked surprised by her fighting ability. She wondered how many could have been spared if she aimed lower, or had disarmed them first. The memories seemed to blur together as she thought about the deaths she wrought. In the end, Icara collapsed to her knees in front of Koshchei and tear dripped from her face onto the floor. He stood up and dusted himself off, letting her wallow in the emotions for a few seconds.

“While I wasn’t the one who killed the king and queen of Alastair, I can tell you that it wasn’t an entirely unjust situation. The old king had no goals for his kingdom, having grown in a life without much want, he had no drive to achieve anything in his life...” Koshchei drifted off before he knelt down and helped Icara upright on her knees as well. “But then again, I suppose it’s unfair to judge someone for their circumstances. Icara, would care to play a game of chess with me? I believe we might be getting some guests soon and we should pass the time for their arrival together.”

She brushed his hands off of her but stayed still. Her breathing was steady and the tears had slowed to a stop on her face. It was all she could do to not think about her own actions, and she lamented showing him any vulnerability. With a silent nod, she stood up again and clutched at her stomach, a nauseous feeling moving over her. It kept coming when she felt at odds with herself, she knew that clearly. The horrible fact, to her, was that even if she knew that, it changed nothing.

“Why chess?” Icara asked, trying to steel her voice and only partially succeeding.

“Because it’s a game of strategy. Despite your troubles since you arrived here, I think there’s a very strong urge to win locked away inside of your mind. If at all possible, I’m interested in seeing if that desire can manifest in more... safe ways.” Koshchei said.

“This is all just some sort of sick joke to you, isn’t it?” Icara asked, her head hung low with fists balled at her sides.

“Who said anything about this being a joke? What I want and what you want is the same here, Icara. Do you plan on resisting me the whole way? You delusions of revenge won’t lead to anything other than more suffering, for you and for everyone around you that has to deal with the consequences.”

“Delusions?! My parents bodies are buried out there, that’s proof enough that my revenge is more than just a fantasy!”

“Icara Valarus is also buried beside them. Does that mean you already failed?”

Pain shot through her stomach and made her seize up again, falling to one knee and groaning in agony. Koshchei moved his hands behind his back and watched. Left alone to suffer, Icara struggled back to her feet after a few more minutes. Her stance was shaken, but she oozed an intimidating air around her. The deathly stare failed to faze Koshchei as he turned his back on her and started slowly for the door.

Time slowed down for her as soon as he stepped away. It hit her that she could reach her hands out and wring his neck right now, or snap it. Even if she was weakened from the strange sickness, nothing stood in the way. Her heart beat faster and she raised her hands towards him with purpose. Not two steps forward, Gwindon’s demands on her to first learn how to rule passed through her mind. She couldn’t bring herself to kill him when she knew that it would destroy thousands of lives. Biting her tongue in frustration, she resorted to the only option she had left. Koshchei reached the door and turned around, curious to find Icara standing in place with her fists balled.

“Koshchei... will this game prove I’m a capable leader? Can it show that I’m not just some monster like you say?”

He thought for a moment and nodded. “Victory, both the desire to take it and the skills to do so, are admirable traits for a royal to have. Though... why would someone like you care about that?” Koshchei asked.

“Because I made a promise to someone, and I won’t let him down no matter what. That’s the least I can do to prove I’m not mindless right now.” She said and moved past him and out into the hall.

Once she passed his side, Koshchei grinned out of her line of sight. He turned and dropped the malicious smile for a more pleasant one, following after Icara with a confident stride in his steps.