Queen of Fire (A Light-Bringer Prequel)

Thirty-Two

"Bring her in," she ordered.

The large doors opened, and the sound of chains clinking together became louder as Akaljot and six other guards escorted a shackled Ashlynn.

Her wine red hair was unbound, her blue-grey tunic wrinkled from a week in the dungeon.

They stopped before the dais, the guards pushing her to her knees.

"You have committed our worst crimes," Marilyn began, her voice as sharp as a sword. "You committed treason, knowing the sentence would be death. Did you not?"

"Yes," seethed Ashlynn.

"You committed murder—twice, nonetheless—and knew the sentence would be death. Did you not?"

"Yes."

"And finally, you practised dark magic, and knew full well that the sentence would be death."

"I did. But I can already tell that you don't have it in you to execute me," Ashlynn taunted.

Marilyn fought to not flinch.

"You could barely execute the witch five years ago—how can you condemn your own sister to a similar fate?" Ashlynn shouted.

"You're right," Marilyn conceded. "Death is too good for you. I sentence you to a lifetime of exile."

Ashlynn's dark eyes widened, and she shot to her feet. "No! You can't do this to me! I'm the Queen of Fire!"

Marilyn barked out a harsh laugh. "You are no Queen of Fire. What you are is a queen of shadows and darkness."

"Of shadows and darkness," Ashlynn mused. "I like that."

"You are a blight on the Pyro name. I strip you of your land, inheritance, and all titles you may hold. You are to never return to Lucis again. Any and all descendants of yours will have the same rights as surfs. You are to never return to Lucis—for if you do, we will not hesitate to kill you on sight."

Ashlynn's face twisted into a snarl. "I will make you and the child you're carrying regret this, Marilyn Pyro."

People started murmuring.

"It isn't true," said Marilyn, her voice rising above the others. "Take her away. She leaves tonight."

The guards roughly took Ashlynn by the arm, and marched her back to the dungeons. Ashlynn took one last look over her shoulder, smirked, and then cackled as the doors closed behind her.

—

Marilyn laid awake, staring at the ceiling. She eventually sat up and looked down at Akaljot—who was softly snoring.

She put her feet on the cool stones and wandered around aimlessly. She eventually found Miles, who was looking out a window and down into the courtyard.

"You're awake," she said as she approached.

"I couldn't sleep," he said, not looking away from the window.

"Same here."

His gaze broke away from the window. "Tell me the truth, Marilyn. Are you actually pregnant?"

"Yes," she whispered so quietly that it was nearly inaudible.

Miles's brows rose. "Does the father know?"

She shook her head. "He's leaving tomorrow." Marilyn stepped closer to the window. "What are you even watching?"

She looked down in the courtyard where she saw Ashlynn and half a dozen guards holding lanterns to see. Ashlynn mounted her horse and held her hands down to the guards. They took off the shackles on her wrists, and Miles inhaled—visibly stiffening.

As if sensing their presence at the window, Ashlynn looked up at them, gave them a vulgar gesture, and then rode through the gate.

Miles exhaled. "She will come back."

"Ashlynn may be insane, but she's not stupid—that's what scares me the most. I should probably go to my study and start writing letters."

"Why do you need to write letters?"

"After Volodomyr Neigeson was killed, his brother, Olek, went on a bit of a rampage," she explained. "Not only did he turn Valon into a winter wonderland, he impaled a total of twelve Witch-Hunters and royal guards on spikes made of ice. Now I'm tasked with writing letters to families stating that their family member was killed in action."

Miles put his hand on her shoulder. "Have fun with that. I'll see you in the morning," he yawned before walking off.

Marilyn walked to her study, pulled out a pen, ink, paper, and the list the coroner had given her. She lit a candle and started writing.