“Rebels?” My pulse jumped. I counted out the coins from my pouch and handed them over while trying not to show any emotion. “Why are they going to Ora Et?”
He raised a brow. “Been living in a cave, have you?”
“Long journey,” I grumbled. “What’s going on in the capital?”
“The Red Asters are attacking the palace. It’s been under siege for days.”
Under siege for days. Bastian was alone… at the worst possible time. It was my job to protect him, but I was what? Buying fruit in some unknown village.
“Thank you,” Anais told the man and elbowed me in the side.
I guided her away from the fruit stand and passed by the bakery without stopping. My vision tunneled to our horses at the end of the street. What triggered Faramond to attack? Was it our disappearance? The countess had to be losing her mind over Anais vanishing and what it meant for her return to court. Or…
Fuck.
What if this was because Bastian had her questioned? What if she gave Faramond up to protect herself and started an all-out war in the process?
“This is my fault,” I mumbled and took the fruit from Anais, dumping it into the saddlebag. “I did this.”
“You didn’t do anything,” she assured me.
“I’ve done plenty.” I moved between our horses and untied their reins with jerky movements. “Faramond attacking the palace now can’t be a coincidence.”
“Who?”
“The Aster leader,” I snapped. “He’s using what’s happened as an opportunity to take the throne.”
“And do what with it?” Anais asked in a quiet voice, casting a look over her shoulder. “There’s no one left of the old royal family.”
“He’ll probably sit on the damn thing himself.” My voice shook, each breath coming too fast, too hard.
“Saer, calm down.” She placed her hands over mine as I fisted the reins. “This isn’t your fault. The rebels have been around forever and you said they were going to use me for something. Maybe it’s this. Maybe it’s my fault.”
“As if they knew I would fall in love with you and leave the prince unprotected? No. This is something else.” Something unplanned if Asters were recruiting openly in the streets. They were always more cunning than that. I turned and led my horse back toward the road.
“You should go,” she called after me.
I stopped in my tracks. “What?”
The slow clop of her horse’s hooves filled my head as she came to my side. “This is about the prince, right? You’re worried about him.”
My chest tightened, forcing out a harsh breath. “They’ll kill him.”
“Then go. I’ll wait for you at the Summer Palace.”
I looked down at her and the image of our future turned to dust. My heart crumbled along with it. If I went back, I would never leave the palace again. Even if I saved Bastian, there would be no escaping my treason charge. But if I didn’t go back… If Bastian died because I was too much of a coward, how would I scrape any sort of happiness from life knowing that I abandoned my best friend in his greatest time of need?
“If anyone comes while I’m gone, hide,” I told her and pressed the sack of coins into her hands. If I told her I wouldn’t return, she would insist on coming or change her mind about my leaving, but I didn’t want her waiting for someone who would never come back either. “And if I’m not back in a week, leave. Go south and I’ll find you.”
She nodded. “Go.”
There was no other choice but to return, but… I pulled her in and kissed her deeply, praying it wasn’t our last. If this was our final moment together, I would take comfort in knowing what we had was real. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she whispered.
Fighting every desire to stay, I mounted my horse and bolted from the city. The urge to look back, to get one more glimpse of Anais, nearly overwhelmed me, but I kept my gaze fixed in the direction of the capital for fear of changing my mind. Anais was free now but Bastian still needed me.
✽✽✽
The three-day carriage ride from Ora Et to the Summer Palace took half that on horseback. By the time I reached the edge of the capital, my horse was covered in sweat with foam dripping from his mouth, but I was calm. Focused.
When I saw smoke billowing into the night sky from multiple points through the city, I dismounted and crept into the woods. My body slipped into old, practiced movements. My steps were light as I crept past groups of rebels, most of which were calmly sitting around fires, laughing. As if holding the palace under siege was a good thing. To them, it was.
None of them saw me as I stuck to the shadows, using the thick trees and dark sky to my full advantage. It wasn’t until I reached the palace wall that I had to stop and wait. There were too many guards on the wall to slip past unseen and all of my usual access points for sneaking in and out were barred.
Except one.
I slipped over a piece of low, crumbling wall leading straight into my forgotten garden. Heart in my throat, I navigated straight to the Prince’s Palace. No one stood guard outside the gate and, inside, the lawn had been trampled, papers scattered.
I can’t be too late.
Just because Bastian was clearly not here didn’t mean the worst. He was probably holed up in the Main Palace, but I wouldn’t be of much use without weapons.
Entering my room again felt surreal. Everything had been overturned, which I should’ve expected, but seeing it was different. Pain pinched my chest. My bed had been hacked in half, my axe still lodged in one of the posts. Feathers littered the floor from my pillow and mattress, and my clothes were in small pieces all over the room. I closed my eyes against it for a moment before regaining focus. Bastian. Ripping the axe from the post, I turned for the door again.
An explosion rocked the ground. I stumbled into the doorframe, my ears ringing. In the distance, men shouted, a chorus of agonized cries and panicked orders. I shook my head and raced toward the Main Palace to find the prince.
No one stopped me. They didn’t even offer me a second glance. There was too much dust in the air to tell friend from foe and too many of each.
The Red Asters stormed through a new hole in the palace wall and collided with guards. But there were too many of them. The guards were spread out over the entire wall but it seemed like every rebel had suddenly converged. I swung my axe as one man ran straight for me despite my not wearing a royal uniform. The axe only severed his arm, but it gave me the chance to slip around the chaos.
Guards swarmed the entrance to the gates of the Main Palace, and I didn’t have time to fight them all. “Move,” I shouted.
One of them—a younger man that had a usual post at Bastian’s palace—shoved another guard out of the way. “Let him through!”
“He’s a traitor,” someone else yelled. “Don’t let him near the king!”
Fuck. I barreled straight into the group. “I’m here to save the prince,” I growled, throwing only defensive blows. Striking them wouldn’t earn any trust.
“He’s in the north tower,” the first guard called.
My eyes flicked to the tall spire rising from the northern side of the palace. Archers leaned out of the windows, bows at the ready. I ground my teeth together, knowing they could shoot me on the spiral staircase as easily as they could shoot any of the Asters.
It didn’t matter. I had no choice. My feet barely hit the ground as I raced into the palace, dodging blows from guards.
At the base of the tower, three men guarded a thick wooden door. “I need to save the prince,” I said, taking a defensive position. They’d surely heard I was a traitor by now and with the rebels attacking, it was only natural for them to assume I—
The older man on the left pounded on the door. “Open for the Wing!” As wood scraped against wood on the other side, he turned to me. “You’re a fucking dead man when this is over.”
“You can get in line,” I told him.
He lifted his sword to
point at my chest. “I’ve watched the two of you grow up and I believe you have genuine affection for the prince.”
I swallowed hard. That was a lot of trust to put into someone he didn’t know. Even if he had seen Bastian and I grow up together, I’d committed the worst kind of betrayal.
The door inched open and I slipped by the guards, into the dark stairwell. Torches glowed at even intervals going up, leading me straight past the archers who didn’t even blink at my presence. Based on the mob I saw now pushing through the gate, I understood why.
My pulse pounded harder the higher I climbed. I dreaded what I would find at the top, but more-so what was coming behind me. We had to get out of there but if Bastian was injured… No. I’d carry him out if I had to.
A blur met me at the top of the steps, slamming me into the wall. The back of my head cracked against the stone and my vision faded for a moment.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Volney hissed. “After everything we did to get you out.”
“I’m here for Bastian, you prick. Get off me.” I shoved at his chest with one hand, the other gripping the axe tighter.
“Volney,” Bastian called. “Stop.”
He bared his teeth, shoving me farther into the stone, and backed away. I swung my gaze to Bastian. He wore his crown, strands of hair hanging free of the braids around it, and dried blood splattered his pale face.
“Are you hurt?” I asked.
He shook his head. “How did you get in here?”
“It doesn’t matter how I got in. We need to get out. Now.” I rushed to the window to see rebels already at the doors. Fuck. “There isn’t much time. You don’t have enough guards in the palace to stop them.”
Bastian hung his head and sighed. “This is the safest place to be right now.”
“Like hell it is.” I turned and my boot landed in something tacky. I froze, my eyes moving slowly to the floor. And the lifeless body of the king. “What the fuck?”
“He’s been dead for hours,” Volney said. “Nen died too.”
Which made Bastian king. The Red Asters would come for him that much harder now. Another pretender to the throne for Faramond to defeat. I scanned the room for unseen threats, panic humming beneath my skin. “We need to go.”
“No.” Bastian began pacing. “We need to stay. The army is hiding throughout every building within the palace walls, waiting for the signal to attack.”
“So give the signal.” I pointed my axe to the window. “They can’t hold the door forever.”
“I want to kill as many of the bastards as I can.” Bastian met my gaze and held it. “So we have to wait.”
The bastards. The rebels. Me.
“They’re breaking through the door now. I’ll go light the sphere,” Volney said, tacking on “my king” after a brief pause.
“Fine.” Bastian conceded. “Let’s end this.”
When Volney was gone, I approached the prince, leaving six feet between us. “Bast, what the hell happened?”
“What happened?” His laugh held no humor. “You made my father look weak when you ran, then I told everyone you were dead which made me look weak. While you were gone, I questioned the countess and had a guard follow her. She went right to her rebel contact who decided to…” He motioned with his hands to imply an explosion.
A flash of green light came from outside the windows. The sphere. A new roar rose over the rebels. Metal clanged. Men shouted a battle cry. The army. How long had Bastian known the rebels would attack in order to get so many men in place?
“You shouldn’t have come back,” Bastian said quietly. “I have everything under control.”
“But—”
“Saer.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “You weren’t the only Wing working with the Asters. Nen killed my father and Volney threw him out the window. Anyone in this tower could be the enemy.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “About your father.”
Bastian winced. “Nothing I can do about it now, is there? Nothing except rule Eradrist and pray no one else stabs me in the back.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. What could I say? Apologize again? He knew I was sorry, but that wasn’t always enough. Sometimes forgiveness took time, and sometimes it didn’t come at all.
“Sit,” Bastian said and motioned to a bench on the far wall. Right before plopping down on it himself.
I obeyed with jerky movements. My body was telling me to get him out of there, to rush him to safety, or at least fight the rebels outside. But I was in no position to push him. All I could do now was sit and wait. Then, if the Asters came through the door, die swinging my axe at their heads.
“No snacks this time,” Bastian mumbled as I sat.
My brow creased. “What?”
“It’s a siege.” He set his head back onto the wall. “All the snacks I had squirreled away are gone.”
Suddenly, I could almost taste the dried fruit he’d tried to give me that day we were attacked in the temple. Back before everything began spiraling out of control. I would’ve done almost anything to go back to those days.
“I don’t have any nuts with me today. Maybe next time,” I told him with a half-smile.
Volney stepped back into the room. “They’ve got the rebels surrounded. We’ll be out of here within the hour.”
“Thank you,” he said. Then, to me, “You need to run before everyone finds out I lied.”
“Enough people saw me coming here that my survival will be common knowledge soon enough.”
“If they’re still alive.” He rubbed a hand down his face and turned toward me. “You’re my brother, Saer. I need you to stay alive so one day, after I’ve earned the trust of the governors and the people, I can bring you home.”
My breath caught. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you need to get the hell out of Ora Et, find Anais, and enjoy your freedom while you can. One day, I’ll drag you both back here.”
An explosion boomed below, shaking the walls. Archers shouted, one guttural death cry rising above the rest. I raised my axe and rushed to the top of the staircase and an arrow whizzed by my head. Civilian men stumbled over the bloodied body of a guard. Rebel men.
Led by Faramond himself.
He didn’t stumble when our eyes met, didn’t blanch at the sight. Instead, he smiled. Blood stained the entire front of his tunic, his graying hair falling in his face. But his look of triumph drew up every ounce of hatred I’d grown for him.
All the years of manipulation and fear he’d put me through. Forcing me to kill men and women in Bastian’s defense simply to fuck with King Edric’s head. The beatings I’d endured. My entire life spent feeling isolated and alone. All for the betterment of Eradrist when, in truth, it was all for Faramond’s desire for power.
My senses honed in on him, and only him, as the rebels behind him quickly fell to whatever forces Volney had summoned. The Aster leader was two steps away when he launched himself at me. I sidestepped him, forcing him into the room. He swung his curved blade at me on the way past, using the strength of his impending fall to rip the axe from my hand.
His mistake was thinking I needed a weapon to kill him. I leapt onto his back when he hit the floor, gripped his hair, and slammed his face into the stone ground. Again. Again. Bones crunched. His grip loosening on the blade.
“Saer, stop,” Bastian said in a low, even voice.
My head jerked up to find him standing over me. “He made me… this,” I said, feeling the despair in my own voice.
Bastian’s gaze flicked between us. “I need to question him.”
“Question anyone else. Just let me kill him.” I tightened my grip on Faramond’s hair and he made a pitiful groan.
“He’s their leader,” Bastian said matter-of-factly and my eyes widened. “Yes, I know who he is. A lot of hidden Asters talked after the siege began and incentives were given.”
Incentives. He promised to give them quick deaths or to spare their ch
ildren in exchange for information. But there was someone who would be poised to take Faramond’s place. Someone I didn’t know and couldn’t give two shits about. As long as the man that ruined me died by my hand.
“Saer,” Bastian said again, harsher this time.
I growled and threw Faramond’s face down one final time. How could I defy the prince—the king? Volney slowly crouched and dragged Faramond away from me. With the heavy cling of armor racing up the steps, I knew the rebels were subdued. Which meant I had no purpose here.
“He’s why I let the rebels get this far,” Bastian explained.
“I understand.” I did. Even if I hated it.
Bastian swallowed hard as the army came closer. “You should go. Use the hidden entrance.”
Leave now before the army could kill me. Or arrest me for multiple counts of treason, leaving Bastian in a position where he couldn’t save me a second time. “Where?” I asked about the entrance.
Bastian pointed to the wooden bench we’d been sitting on. “Lift the seat. There’s a long drop, so be careful.”
A long drop so people could easily escape the tower, but no one could easily sneak in. But I wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye again. Everything in me screamed to stay and protect him. Stay and help in whatever way I could. I swallowed hard, forcing down the fear and sorrow. “Bast…”
“Fucking go,” Volney said, wrenching the bench open.
The army was seconds away from discovering me. It was now or never. So I jumped into the hole, landing six feet down in a musty tunnel.
I stayed long enough to hear the men arrive. I held my breath as I imagined them taking in the body of Bastian’s father. Then released it as a group of voices called “long live the king”.
Bastian. A true ruler with a true heart. I swallowed, forcing down the lump in my throat, and whispered, “long live the king.” Not daring to linger any longer in case someone checked the passageway for rebels, I slunk through the tunnel. My ankle ached with each step, but I ignored it. Pushed past the slight pain.
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