| 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐲𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 • 𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐲𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 |
RUTHLESS POLITICS
Aster Jacques' predecessor is dead, his capital ruined, and his people struggling to fight back against their most hated enemy. Determined to save...
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In the morning, the first pale streams of light fall onto my face from the crack I always leave in the curtains. Hazy memories of dreams filled with snowy rooftops, escapes through dark and fiery hallways, and single storm clouds in otherwise clear meadow skies still capture my mind. Part of my half-asleep soul pangs for the loss of being there, in Draó, despite the danger and heartache it brought.
Outside, a bird caws, and my eyes open. Leavi's here. She followed me here.
I scoff and push out of bed. She wanted to come to Morineaux anyway. It's arrogant to assume I had anything to do with it.
I pull out today's clothes. She knew we were at war, though. And the night before I left, there were those lights she conjured, little figures of me and her walking hand-in-hand. Of me catching her and holding her. My skin warms. She didn't want me to leave—she all but asked me to stay. If you don't want to go back, she insisted, you shouldn't have to.
I shed yesterday's clothes and pull on the new ones. Maybe that's all it was. She didn't want me to leave because she thought I didn't want to. Not necessarily because she wanted me to stay with her.
Silver slippers await in the bottom of my wardrobe, and I grimace. The proper footwear of courtmen is so loose that running is more likely to put me on the ground than at my destination. I shut the wardrobe door. It doesn't matter what the Ladies think. I tug on plebeian, functional black boots.
I shouldn't care what Leavi's reasons for coming are. She's here, and she needs me. Why she came doesn't change why I won't leave her in the dungeon. I turn toward the door.
Light catches my bronze circlet on its cushion, and I pause as if caught. With slow steps, I walk toward it. I am prince of my country before all else. Resolve takes hold of my bones like fatigue after a hard spell. Leavi won't have to face the punishment the law thinks she deserves, and I will be the prince of Morineaux.
I rest the circlet on my head. I'll be glad to know she's safe while I take the place I must.
As I exit, I swing on my cloak. As much as I want to rush to my sister and demand Leavi's release, I must wait until tomorrow. My return yesterday was just short of a disaster. Today I will be more organized. Today I will accomplish things and will have something to show Sela. The thought of Leavi down there still pricks my mind with guilt-poisoned needles, but caution demands patience. No one gives favors to people in their bad graces.
I push my hand through my hair but knock my circlet and fumble to catch it. It's not ideal, but Agraund used to say that choices rarely are.
I catch a servant on my way to the Mage Room and ask her to have someone deliver my breakfast there. About a month before I left for Draó, I dismissed my manservant for stealing. The boy had been with me since I was thirteen, but I never connected with him like Sela did with Maera. Even so, it stung to face the idea that he was filling his pockets when my back was turned. I had hoped that he was comfortable enough with me that if he had needed something beyond his generous wages, he would have said so. Instead, I'm left wondering for how long he was stealing and why.