Queen of Fire (A Light-Bringer Prequel)

Twenty-One

Marilyn didn't remember trudging back up the stairs or collapsing into her bed.

Hours or days later, Marilyn awoke to a beam of sunlight shining in her face. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes before she hauled herself out of bed.

Marilyn shuffled from her room to the sitting room, finding Akaljot already there with a mug of steaming tea in his hands.

"Afternoon," he greeted, lavender circles under his eyes. You've been asleep most of the day."

She plopped down on the couch beside him. "You look like you haven't slept."

He chuckled humorlessly. "Battle syndrome makes it harder to sleep."

Marilyn looked at him quizzically. "Do you mean cannon shock?" she asked in confusion.

"Yes," he confirmed. "To us, though, it's called 'battle syndrome.' In all honesty, you're starting to show signs of it."'

"I've never fought on a battlefield, though."

"That's where you're wrong. Being tortured because of who you are and to come out on top... that's a battle in itself."

After moments of tense silence, Marilyn asked, "Can we go see Soturi?"

"I don't see why not."

Marilyn jumped to her feet and jogged to the bathing room in excitement. She'd lived in Valon and Friedens; she'd walked in Spei and Apparatori's capitals; she'd never set foot in Krigere until a few weeks ago.

Marilyn found her clothes sitting on the counter by the basin. She closed the door, turned on the faucet above the bathtub, and looked for a clean towel. Marilyn peeled off her clothes and lowered herself into the steaming tub.

She moaned as the hot water relaxed her tense muscles. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back.

She could stay here, she realized. Stay here, come up with a new name where only Igor, Frida, Akaljot, and the Neigesons would know who she truly was...

Are you sure that you can condemn Miles and his son to this life? said a voice at the back of her head. Are you willing to condemn Lucis and turn your back on your home? Condemn all of Zemlja to Ashlynn's wrath?

"I'm so tired," she whispered to no one. "I just want this all to end."

But, she knew, the only way that this could end was if she won a coup against her. She owed the coup to Miles.

Marilyn opened her eyes and began scrubbing at her face and hair. Satisfied, she drained the water and dried off. She threw on her tunic, pants, and boots, when something in the mirror caught her eyes.

The first two inches of her hair was red.

Emberly Feu was dead to her—nonexistent. She was Marilyn Pyro, and she would liberate her kingdom from her sister, even if she died trying.

—

Marilyn looked around in awe. She'd only gotten a partial view of the city during her trek the previous day. Now, with Akaljot guiding her, she got a full tour of the Krigerean capital.

The sky darkened, and Akaljot led her to one of many restaurants on one of the main streets, and a waitress showed them to her seats.

Marilyn took notice of a memorial on the far wall. Come to think of it, she saw a few of them through shop windows.

"Why are there so many memorials?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

"Tomorrow is Mort Jour," he answered in the same hushed tone.