RE: Monarch

The dim entryway to the section of the castle that housed the dungeon loomed in the distance. Retrieving Sera was outside the parameters my father had set. Regardless of her recent accomplishment, I got the feeling he didn’t consider her a full banner lieutenant in my regiment, the thought simply hadn’t occurred to him. There were two guards in standard uskarrion armor.

“Are we sure Sera’s in the dungeon?” Maya asked.

“Not necessarily,” I admitted. “From the sound of it, she thoroughly pissed him off, so off instinct, she’s probably here.”

“And if she’s not?” Maya asked.

“With the dungeon’s layout, we can’t afford to check somewhere else first and be wrong, then check the dungeon later. This is our only chance to do so without the king breathing down our necks, blocking our escape.”

I slowed to a brisk walk, Maya following my lead. “Let us through.”

The guard shook his head. “Can’t do that milord. Got a noble vacationing today.”

“Damn.” Maya did a double-take. “That’s a lovely locket.”

The dungeon guard perked up immediately, fingers brushing the broach around his neck. “Thank ye, miss. It’s from the lady to be.”

“Where did you find the jeweler?” Maya inclined her head slightly toward the other guard.

I took it as a signal and cocked my left fist back, ringing my dungeon guard’s helmet like a gong. He dropped, his eyes blank, while Maya’s slumped to the ground in blissful sleep. She strode over to mine and checked him, placing her fingers on his neck. “He’s fine. But you really can’t just go around giving people concussions.”

“Concussions heal.” I pointed to the guard she dropped with little more than a touch. “But that one’s going to have trust issues forever.”

“They don’t always heal.” Maya groused, but didn’t argue further.

We descended the spiraling cobble pathway at a brisk jog. After a few minutes, we were stopped at the door.

“Hold right there. Why the hells weren’t you turned away.” A new face, strict and a little bored. I assumed he was one of many replacements for the several guards that were either executed or banned from service after the drephin prisoner escaped. Probably demoted from his previous role.

I was tiring of being waylaid, the mental image of my father sprinting, frothing mad at our flanks. So I tried the direct approach. “Where’s the princess?”

“Now you really have to leave.” He crossed his arms. Several other guards approached cautiously, a few of the dark clothed torturers pausing in the middle of their work.

So I did the rational thing. I breathed fire out of my nose. Little spouts of dantalion flame flared on my skin, my armor, my neck. I stomped backward, gnashing my teeth. “I’m so fucking angry.”

“Look what you did, you made him angry.” Maya said mildly.

“Every time we come down here, we get no respect. There is no recognition of my status.”

“And you didn’t recognize his status.”

“I am about ready to burn this whole goddamn place to the ground!” The dantalion flamed leafed around me in a fiery display that was more showy than practical.

“We’re underground.” Maya added quietly.

It was all, apparently, too much for the guard to handle. “Okay, I don’t get paid enough for this. I didn’t see shit. Not you, or you, or the princess at the back of that hall in the left side cells.” The guard turned on his heel and raised his voice, addressing the others. “Nobody saw shit. Clear?”

And just like that, any resistance we might have faced either found something more interesting to focus on or went to lunch.

/////

The cell door creaked open, light spilling in. A silhouette chained to the wall jerked at the sound, craning her neck for a better look.

“Who’s there?” Her voice was weak.

“Cairn, the emissary’s with me.” I answered, hurrying to her side.

It wasn’t the worst I’d seen, but Sera was in rough straits. The prisoner’s rags they’d clad her in were torn and threadbare, and through the many holes and tears there was considerable bruising around her torso. She seemed to have difficulty holding her head up, and there was a nasty gash splitting her eyebrow.

Holy shit. No matter his reasoning, or how he justified it, this was too far. The treatment was considerably more sadistic than anything the King had put his children through in my previous life. And I had to wonder why. Why Sera? If she was slacking, or being the obstacle he’d warned her not to be, I could almost understand the treatment—though never condone it. But she wasn’t. She’d been doing well.

“Hey Cairn. Got any wine?” Sera rasped.

I pulled a waterskin from my belt and held it to her lips. “I’ll do you one better.”

“That’s—glug— not better.” Even so, she swallowed greedily. I pulled it away, certain that if I hadn’t, she would have finished the whole thing.

Maya interposed herself between us. “Sera, I need to touch you to heal you.”

“Do we have time?” I leaned in to Maya’s ear and whispered.

“It will take longer to leave if she can’t walk.”

Nodding, I stood next to Sera, occasionally giving her water as Maya worked. From the way she stiffened, it almost looked like the healing was hurting her more, but I knew from experience that the sudden absence of pain could be just as unsettling as pain itself. In addition, you tended to feel it more in the places that hadn’t been healed.

“He really messed me up.”

I pressed my forehead to hers. “You could have told him what we were planning. I’d never ask you to endure this.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, I thought she might slip away until her body jerked, and she blinked several times. “I didn’t?”

My gut twisted. “No. You didn’t.”

As the healing progressed, color returned to her cheeks. She glanced at me with cloudy eyes. “Didn’t want him… to take our victory… our glory.”

“I know.”

“The damage is extensive.” Maya said, not bothering to hide her disgust. “Your legs should be more or less as they were, three of your ribs were broken, which I fixed, and most of the contusions that would limit your mobility should pain you less. If we had more time I could heal you completely, but this will have to do.”

“Time—You’re breaking me out?” Sera sounded surprised, and despite the circumstances, smiled.

I nodded. If I’d known she was in this bad a state, I would have still come, but I wasn’t sure she’d be able to fight in the regiment, let alone act as a banner lieutenant.

“During your… absence… the political landscape has shifted. Annette is in peril. Father’s treating it like a game. If we can’t find and retrieve her before midnight tonight, he intends to marry her off to House Westmore.”

Considering my sisters’ rocky relationship, I wasn’t sure how she’d react to the news. They’d bonded during the lead-up to the mock battle. But some wounds take longer to heal than others. So it was a relief when Sera wrinkled her nose, a ray of focus shining through otherwise foggy eyes. “What? That doesn’t even make sense.”

“My thoughts exactly. Even in the coldest terms it’s an uneven trade. For what he’s getting, a noble daughter from one of our close allies would have sufficed.”

“He’s overpaying.” Sera filled in. She stepped away from the wall and rubbed the deep red imprints on her wrists. “Not to mention, Annette would lose her mind. Elphion. And I thought he hated me.”

Maya stuck her head out the door. “We need to go. Aetherya was doing well when we left, but as soon as the black shields—and for that matter the king—find their way onto the wall, the tides will turn quickly.”

“Right. Servant’s entrance is nearby. We’ll slip out that way and regroup at Kilvius’s.” I turned to Sera, still thinking through the rest. “Kilvius is a connected, well-organized friend with plenty of manpower around him. You’ll be safe there.”

“I don’t want to be safe.” Sera said.

“Sorry?”

“What, huddle in a room, shivering, while the king is out there doing his level best to scare the shit out of our sister and catapult her across the Sapphire Sea?” Sera snapped. “No. Maybe it wasn’t flashy, and she didn’t see any direct combat, but Annette proved herself worthy of more than that in the mock battle. Same as me.”

I hesitated. This was what I wanted. Sera punched well above her means in a fight, and having another strong caster would only give us more flexibility. But it would potentially mean confronting a person who’d spent the last day tormenting her personally. I remembered how I’d felt, fresh out of Ozra’s clutches, the sheer, stark, terror that resonated through me whenever he appeared. It’d taken a long time to fade, and it still wasn’t completely gone. Sera’s treatment by comparison had been milder—a severe beating, as opposed to the cruel knives of the demons—but she’d still been tortured. “You realize the king will be playing an active role in this conflict? That we may have to fight him directly?”

Though my elder sister was visibly quaking on her feet, her expression was frigid steel. “If anything, this presents a unique opportunity. To return the favor.”

There was no denying it. Sera had been affected by the ordeal, but by either intent or brevity, she hadn’t broken. What I felt from her wasn’t just fear, but a desperate need to reclaim her strength. To prove to both herself and anyone else that was watching that she still mattered.

And perhaps it was my own past experiences clouding my judgment, but I didn’t think twice about denying her that.

“Then let’s move.”