Queen of Fire (A Light-Bringer Prequel)

Twenty-Five

Nausea twisted her stomach the next morning, sending Marilyn sprinting for the toilet.

Marilyn sat on the stone floor in her bathroom, brushing her hair behind her ears.

Akaljot stood in the doorway, his arms crossed. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," she answered. "It's just a little food poisoning—it's not the end of the world."

Akaljot sat down beside her, and started rubbing her back. Marilyn leaned into him, her head resting between his shoulder and chest.

"We should probably get going," she said, rising to her feet. "They're going to burn Phillippe's body. I didn't know him very well, but I should pay my final respects to him—on Ashlynn's behalf, too."

She dressed herself in a black shirt and pants, making sure to wear a woollen cloak lined with fox fur.

Akaljot looped her arm through his, and they walked down to a private beach where Phillippe's body would be burned.

A small crowd of noblemen and guards gathered around the pyre made of evergreen and pine. The well-preserved body of a dark-haired man—of Phillippe—laid on the pyre. The man beside Dmitri started sobbing, but Dmitri offered no form of comfort.

Ashlynn loved you a lot, Phillippe, Marilyn thought. She hasn't stopped loving you. But the grief she felt when you died drove her into madness. We are cremating your body today, nine years after your death, not out of spite, but to protect Zemlja from my sister's madness.

A wave crashed on the rocks that jutted out of the sea; a storm was coming.

"Marilyn, if you will," said Dmitri, motioning towards the pyre and his nephew's corpse.

Marilyn lit the pyre, and silently said her goodbye to Phillippe. Dmitri's brother wailed as his son's body was burned.

The smoke rose higher into the grey sky as the flames roared and warmed their faces.

—

Dmitri and Andrei led Marilyn, Akaljot, Santos, and Jasiah to a war room. The guards outside opened the doors for them and closed them, standing outside.

Marilyn darted for the wall closest to her that held rolled up maps. She started pulling maps down—unfurling them enough to read their titles.

"Akaljot, Andrei, catch," she called to them, tossing two maps. She pulled down a third, looked at the title, and unfurled it on the large octagonal table everyone was gathered at.

"Why do we need maps?" asked Jasiah, looking at a map of the continent.

"Because, Your Highness, we can't charge into this blind," Marilyn responded. "Ashlynn is intelligent, cunning, and manipulative. She knows we're coming for her—that I am, anyways. We must plan this carefully for she will no doubt pull Witch-Hunters and royal guards to expect a fight from me that has been five years in the making."

"When do we have to be there?" asked Andrei.

"First quarter moon of the new year," she said. "I think that Eirineftes, Krigere, and Apparatori should camp out three or four miles outside of Valon's western-most blocks to avoid detection. You all have the element of surprise. Let's not waste it because we got careless."

"Where does Spei lie in this?" piped Santos.

"What shipment is scheduled to enter Valon by the first quarter?" questioned Akaljot.

"It should be sugar and rice," said Jasiah.

"Can you try to fit some men into the crates?" Akaljot pressed.

"We should be able to."

"That's how you're getting in. Sugar and rice crates."

"That part is settled? Spei enters from the east and we enter from the north?" she clarified.

"Looks like it," said Akaljot.

Marilyn dug through the maps before unfurling a map of Valon. "This is Valon—the capital of Lucis. Ashlynn will be waiting for us, or me, in this square outside Roman Novels." She pointed at a square in the middle of the city. "The harbour is about eight blocks from the square. At every half-hour, I think that one more battalion should go in—create a distraction, spread her resources thin."

"Which battalion goes first?" asked Dmitri.

"We need a signal for when we come out of hiding," said Jasiah. "Too early, we blow everything. Too late, and you might lose the coup."

"Apparatori can do both," said Andrei. "Half of us can secure the north, while the other half signals the Speians."

"What's the signal?" Jasiah asked warily.

"Howling and gunfire," Andrei said with an impish grin. "Why else do you think we're called the House of Wolves?"

"Krigere should take the south," said Marilyn. "Then Eirineftes can take the west."

"Where will you be?" asked Akaljot, his brows furrowed.

"Going after my sister," she said, her words clipped. Marilyn started rolling up the map of Valon. "We're bringing this with us."

—

After tossing and turning for what felt like several hours, Marilyn gave up trying to sleep. She wandered the cold, empty halls until she finally settled for standing on a stone balcony that overlooked the sea.

She warmed the air around her and watched the waves roll in the distance, the snow fall, and listen to the water crash against the rocks below her.

"A bit too cold and cloudy out for star gazing, Marilyn," said Andrei as he approached.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" she asked him.

"Just because you're five years older than I am doesn't mean that you can tell me what to do. Plus, I can't sleep."

"Me neither."

There was a look of concern in his dark eyes as he said, "I can't help but notice the way Akaljot looks at you. He looks at you like you're about to die."

"Because I might," she said quietly. "For five years, I bottled up my magic and rage, then buried them under the need to survive and told myself that Marilyn Pyro was dead. Now that we're staging a coup, I'm going to use it as a death blow. Best case, I survive with minor injuries."

"I never thought I'd see the day where Marilyn Pyro went blonde," he teased, the wind blowing his brown hair everywhere.

Marilyn looked at Andrei, the prince who had to crane his neck to see over the table and who looked up at her, was now looking down to make eye contact. "You've grown a lot, Andrei."

"So have you, Marilyn. We really should retire for the night. After all, we'll be travelling for the next two months before waging a coup against the most feared royal house."