Once again, they had been summoned by Cwach. Nobles and guards flooded the throne room, a sign of some important announcement. Royce did not know what it was for, but he felt the building anxiety within his chest.

  This could only be a crushing declaration, one that would destroy the work he had only recently begun. Filtered through Arty and Mav, he had hoped to work with Idwyn to create a plan to pull Zernau to their side.

  “I have already begun turning some of the soldiers,” Idwyn had told them. “It is not as if there is complete solidarity in this Kingdom. Those with their eyes open know the true threat of the Uxsons. As you have likely noticed, there is a surplus of Lenda soldiers in Znseruff that may come to our aid. Of course, it is not as if they will overthrow a Kingdom for us. They also need a leader, someone with a pedigree like the Lord Prince, but who they know well.”

  “Still, the support is welcome,” Arty said.

  “I’m surprised you’re able to convince them. We are not those who supply their food,” Royce said.

  Idwyn chuckled. “The word of a Truthsayer carries much weight. As long as this isn’t a revolt, they will help. It is not as if they will be raising blades, only a show of hands to indicate dissatisfaction. Whether out of fear or sincerity is known only in their hearts.”

  The clearing of the King of Zernau’s throat pulled Royce from his reverie. “My fellow Drajin, I have wonderful news. Our trading and non-aggression have gone well with the Uxsons. As such, our friendship will increase, beginning with open borders. Next, Frieda will occupy our capital with some of their forces.”

  An applause from Cwach’s foremost supporters. Shock of betrayal on every member of the Band of the Promised One’s face, save for Idwyn. Even among the nobles, some looked uneasy. Royal Guards held unwavering gazes.

  It was a devastating turn of events. There was too much opposition in the room to raise any objections. Once dismissed, the future looked bleak.

  But this was only the start.

  Royce departed from his friends with a quick step. Determination and a destination on his mind. This horrific decision from Cwach could actually launch them forward if Royce made the right choices.

  The door before Royce barred his way. In his hand, an inauspicious key stolen by Mav and passed on to him. For this moment.

  He rapped on the door. “Eira, are you there?”

  No answer.

  “I’m coming in.”

  She did not even deem it fit to respond then.

  He fitted the key in the lock and took a deep breath. What could he say to her to get her to move? The others had already tried, Idwyn, Mav, Arty, and Emerii; every single one of them was more qualified to help her.

  As much as he wanted to assist Eira, that was not his motive. Royce had come here brazenly to demand her help, and he would say or do anything to cause her to act. He would grovel or reprimand, scream or murmur timidly, anything that would spur the woman.

  This would not cure her ailment, would not even give her a moment’s relief. Still, this had to be done.

  He thought back to their first night in Znseruff, the wordless conversation Eira and Brodwyn shared in the brief moment they had.

  Royce threw the door open. He stepped past the threshold.

  We have the same style of chambers; how could this one look so different?

  A void surrounded him, a blackness that absorbed hope, eliminated joy. The curtains drawn closed, the minor amount of light spilling from the hallway illuminated only enough to get the general shape of everything in the room.

  A thick stench wafted through, and it was obvious how filthy the area had become. A consequence of shutting herself away, no doubt. As Royce stepped further in, he saw no sight of her, until he noticed a lump on the ground, wrapped in fur and warm cloth.

  “You’ll rot,” He said.

  The lump shifted slightly.

  “Why the ground?” Royce asked. “Did you get tired of the bed?”

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  “The floor is more welcoming. The cold and discomfort suits my wretched being,” Eira finally responded.

  He sighed. “I’m not here to coddle you, Eira. I need your help.”

  She sniggered. “What could I possibly do for you? Look around, son of the Lord Captain of the Welkia Royal Guard, and tell me. What state am I in to do anything?”

  He did as she told him, casting his gaze slowly around as if he had not already witnessed the abhorrent state of her sleeping quarters.

  For Arty’s dream and to support Emerii, and for the caged Queen, Royce would become anything. If the world became a better place, it did not matter how filthy he got. Tainting his soul here could move the woman before him, and with that, the furtherance of their goals.

  “All I see is a woman who doesn’t know when she needs to stand back up.”

  “You’re too young, you have no right to talk to me in such a way.”

  “I couldn’t care less about your circumstances, Captain of the Red Feathers.”

  “Don’t call me that!” She screamed. “That person is dead!”

  Royce wandered to the corner of the room and found, buried under rubbish, the sack with Eira’s old personal effects. He hefted it, then tossed it in front of her, causing a loud clank to resound.

  “You might feel indebted to us for saving you from Vhorn. Lady Idwyn is your old friend, and you may feel a gnawing need to assist her. There may be a knot in your heart calling for vengeance against Brymoor. I think all of that is supplementary.”

  “What do you mean, Royce?”

  “You cannot leave Brodwyn to her fate.”

  The woman’s eyes came alive for the first time.

  Royce smiled cruelly as he said, “This is no time to be resting. Lenda has betrayed her as well. I will not leave her to that old man. My plan hinges on you, Eira. On your need to rescue her.”

  Her mouth opened to make some argument, but no words formed, only slight noises of protest.

  Royce continued, “If it were up to me, I would leave Zernau and Lenda to their fate. Being wed to the Uxsons will not be quite the gilded future Cwach imagines, and Lenda will fall within the year, even with Zernau colluding with the enemy. Did you know? Many soldiers from Lenda are in Zernau now, a consolidation of power. Despite the dire circumstances, Arty and Lady Idwyn demand that we pull them into the Drajin alliance. It would be so much easier to simply leave, or rescue the Queen and escape, but so be it. That is why I need you, Eira.”

  She remained silent.

  “We do not have much time. Please think about your answer as quickly as possible. Use whatever you might to stand, but I believe Brodwyn will be at the forefront of your thoughts.”

  With that, he turned and left, leaving the door open. God, I feel sick. I do not want to be doing this, but I need her. Once everything is over, I’ll apologize.

  Eira watched Royce depart into the bright corridor, leaving her behind in the pit of darkness and self-deprecation. In front of her were the things she wished she could dispose of, but was unable to bring herself to. Instead, she sought to bury it away from her sight. That boy had come here and exposed it, leaving the objects of her pain before her very eyes.

  She could not hate him, despite the tone he was using with her. It was a fact that they had saved her, a complete stranger at the time, from a Divine Hammer. Then they were quite accommodating, despite dragging her to the Kingdoms she had no desire to reside in.

  What Royce was doing was similar to what Idwyn had attempted. Trying to draw on emotion to get her to stand again. Her dear friend was trying to invoke anger, vengeance against those who wronged her, both Uxson and Drajin. It would be a lie to assume some of those emotions did not stir, but she was mostly an empty husk now.

  Someone who should have died.

  A walking corpse, living on borrowed time.

  “Protect Brodwyn, huh?” Eira murmured to herself.

  Ah, if only I could do just that.

  She had watched her grow up, back when she was not the new Queen of Zernau, but the beloved Lord Princess of Lenda. Eira had never had any siblings that made it past childhood, but the twins had been like family to her.

  Idwyn lectured them as Eira trained with her regiment.

  Teaching Brymoor swordplay while Brodwyn watched, all of them laughing in joyful camaraderie.

  Witnessing the Lord Prince grow into the finest knight who would one day take the throne of Lenda.

  Witnessing the Lord Princess grow into the finest woman who would make any man’s heart swoon, and would take the seat of another Kingdom as Queen sometime in the future.

  Eira could no longer be by their sides. They were doing their duty, while she had finished hers and been tossed aside.

  The Band of the Promised One was asking for her help, but how could someone like her assist them? She was a nothing, pointless, useless existence.

  Her trauma flashed in her head, the dehumanizing acts made upon her. Then she saw Cwach, a top Brodwyn. Eira suddenly expelled the few contents of her stomach.

  “When I wed, I want it to be a charming Prince, or a regal young King,” Brodwyn had told her, not but a few years ago. The rays of sunlight hit her brown hair as she innocently giggled. “I know I’ll be forced to marry for my Kingdom. I’m prepared for it. But as long as we truly love each other and declare it before God, I have nothing to worry about. My father and brother will find me a fine partner.”

  Eira had been trying to quietly kill her emotions. When Mav would talk to her or bring her treats, she silenced her thankfulness. When others sought her well-being, she ignored them. Even when Brodwyn came to her door, she turned her away.

  But now, she stirred. All because that boy challenged her, prodded her. If anyone had been able to move her, it should have been Idwyn, her dear friend. But the Truthsayer’s approach had been too cold, too detached. Royce wanted this, desperately, from his expression.

  Her bones creaked, her expression coming alive once again. She owed the band, and this was an excuse to repay them.

  Fuck everyone else. Fuck the King of Lenda and his Kingdom. Fuck the old pervert Cwach. Even Brymoor, with how he’s become, could go to hell.

  There was no one left to advocate for Brodwyn, no knight at her side who could defend her. For now, Eira would be that person. Until someone else came along who could defend her and lead her to the future she deserved.

  A corpse with a purpose was still a corpse, but she would do her duty even still.

  For Brodwyn, Eira would pick up the sword once again.