“We have five months to come up with a solution, yes?”
“But the bride price… we could never repay it or pay the penalty fee…”
“Forget the bride price.” Loki stretched and sat up on his hind legs. Looking at the child with a softened eye. “We won’t have to pay anything if that man dies.”
Em paused. “You can’t kill him.”
“Did I say I would?”
“But-”
“You’ve already come up with part of the solution,” he said impatiently. “Just get that little boy on his feet. And when the time’s right, I’ll make you disappear. We can go into hiding and play games until it’s all over. But that’s my price. We’re playing games the whole time. Got it?”
Finally, the child’s laugh was complete and genuine.
Her relief poured off of her as she picked him up and buried her face into his head.
It was really uncomfortable to tell the truth.
But he didn’t stop her.
He didn’t leave until the child fell asleep and the brother came to check on her. At that point, he felt everything would be fine. He snuck out the window and down the side of the building.
No one was near the cleared path below the window when he leaped the last few feet.
But when he landed, it was to get an eye full of someone’s bare foot.
He looked up and Felice raised an eyebrow at him. Arms crossed.
He gave her a cheeky smile.
“Lovely night, isn’t it? Want to tip some cows? I saw a few on my way here begging for it.”
The lovely goddess snorted a laugh. Without a word, she picked him up.
And they both disappeared.
***
Safe.
Madeline popped the small note into her mouth and didn’t bother chewing before swallowing.
Safe.
She didn’t know if that meant they were all safe or just a few. She knew the Count and his wife had been spirited away from the ballroom. About the time the mourning carriages left for the chapel.
Maybe it just meant she, Madeline, was safe. For now.
It was a nightmare.
One more tentacle of her underground network was now no longer usable. Thiago had been chipping away at it for years and soon enough, he'll find every branch.
They had better emergency policies than before, so he’ll still have difficulty finding more than a thread to connect to her.
But, one day, her luck will run out.
Idly, she played with her champagne glass. Watching a room full of people pretending to mourn an Emperor who had grown so weak no one much noticed when he passed.
I did my best to prevent his death.
He hadn’t been a bad man. Neither had he been a good man. He’d just been… worn out. After the deaths of so many people he cared about, mostly his children, he’d just given up on life.
You could say he was dead long before he actually died.
She saw it when Flint hurried out of the room. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how often her eyes turned to the man. Though he wisely never once looked at her.
Was he just being wise? Or did he move on? Has he ever cared about her? Or did he just pity her before?
Not knowing made her want to cry.
Which then made her angry.
And when he left, she took that as an opportunity to throw a tantrum. Smashing her glass on the floor and startling everyone nearby with her unexpected show of violence.
Ignoring their looks, she swept out of the ballroom and into the garden.
As she walked down the garden path, plants burned up on either side. Single plants here and there, only part of the bed. Enough to make the gardeners scratch their heads in bewilderment the following day but not enough to destroy all their work.
Miniature lightning strikes hit a few as well.
When she read about characters with bloodlust and who satiated their fury by killing people, she had thought little of it. Except to think that such people were sociopaths and deserved to die.
They were, after all, a danger to everyone around them.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
Who would have thought she’d become a sociopath?
She laughed at herself. Yes. She was a crazy bitch who would one day need to be put down for the safety of others.
“Empress?”
Her whole body flinched. As though someone had dumped freezing water on her inner fury.
Slowly, she turned around.
The woman who addressed her was watching her with widened eyes. Hand on her distended stomach.
“Dorine.”
The woman was barely twenty. But she had a ragged, worn-out look about her that made outsiders think she was ten years older. And she was inching away from Madeline every time Madeline so much as twitched.
So Madeline held still.
“Good eve-evening, your-your Majesty.”
The woman swept into a royal bow. Which nearly knocked her over in her heavily pregnant state.
“Get up,” said Madeline tiredly. “I thought you were supposed to be resting.”
There were tears in the other woman’s eyes as she stood up. She fidgeted with her dress and stared at the ground. The garment looked uncomfortably tight around her stomach.
“The Em-Emperor ordered me to at-tend to-tonight.”
Lightning struck another flower as Madeline’s rage suddenly surged again. Making the poor woman squeak and take a step backward.
That bastard!
“How long do you have to attend?”
“I, that is, I was jus-just going ba-ba-”
Gritting her teeth, Madeline moved slowly. Keeping her hands open so the other woman could see they were empty. Although, in a world of magic, it was not nearly as reassuring as in a world without.
The poor woman didn’t dare move back from Madeline more than a few inches. Then, gently, the Empress put her arm around Dorine’s shoulders and led her away from the main building.
The concubine’s palace was well-lit but quiet. The other concubines would not be returning until later that night.
Considering how many women he kept here, there should have been a full nursery palace next door as well.
There wasn’t.
There was only a single child there. A two-year-old girl.
And until ‘the prince’ was found, or the seer claimed he was dead, there would only ever be girl children found there. Unfortunately, the man’s sperm seem to be mostly made for males.
It made Madeline sick with fury.
Especially since she’d failed time and time again to rescue even one of those innocent children.
She handed concubine Dorine over to her servants. And then stood still, watching them take the woman away.
That baby would probably disappear as well, under the claim that most of the Emperor’s children were born sickly.
With a snarl, she spun on her heel and went to her own palace.
Where she spat at her servants to leave her alone. Effectively scaring them away.
Then she changed.
Getting out of the palace was easy. Thiago would somehow know she’d left, but since it was in secret, he wouldn't know where she went.
Especially when she sizzled away his damn death orbs when they tried to follow her.
At first, she just wandered the streets.
Trying to calm down.
For her safety, she kept the fire and lightning under control. What was the good of leaving in secret if she left a trail for him to follow?
Nearly everyone had taken part in the memorial in one way or another. That meant fewer people were getting up at five in the morning than there would have been on a typical day.
Fewer people to see her.
By then, she wasn’t less angry.
She was just too tired to carry that anger.
With all supernatural pursuers now lost, she let herself into the shed behind the surgery. Pulling her hood more closely around her face.
Just in case.
Of course, the boy could smell her.
She wasn’t worried about that. Let him smell her. Now or when he woke up. Even if he recognized her scent, who was he going to tell?
This one…
Was the only one.
She stared at him. Not knowing if he was awake and aware of her or not.
Not caring.
She stared at the only ‘prince’ she’d been able to save over the many long, long years. The only prince that was actually a prince… and old enough to possibly be the prophesied one. Since the day she’d woken up as fourteen-year-old Madeline Dulce and given herself a mission.
She’d been there as hundreds, no thousands, were slaughtered at that monster’s whim.
She’d been there as whole families were annihilated. When countries were torn apart and put under subjugation.
When the cries of infants mingled with their mother’s frantic screams… and their fathers' hopeless sobs…
She’d seen and done enough to make her crazy.
Maybe she was crazy.
Maybe the numbness and callousness she’d developed had driven her to the edge of insanity. Every night, she dreamed of slicing that bastard’s throat and would wake up laughing like a maniac.
Ironically, she didn’t much care if she herself survived.
Not anymore.
She had no dreams, no hopes for her own future. Even the idea of being with Flint… was so far outside of what she hoped for herself that it was a mockery.
Maybe her disappearance would be better for the safety of everyone around her.
Yes.
When the day came, she hoped that this boy would kill her, too.
That was a nice thought.
Get well, kid, she thought viciously. Get well. Don’t forgive me. Tear out my heart and feed it to monsters. When the day comes, remember that I was there when your family was slaughtered and your people scattered.
Remember that I was the one who sent you to live in hell.
She laughed.
It sounded as insane as she felt.
The man flinched.
So. He's awake.
She turned and left. Magically locking the door behind her so no one but the boy knew she’d been there.
Asher Wyn. Don’t you dare die.
Because there is no one else.
She didn’t go back until after dawn. By then, she had contacted her right hand and had more details on last night’s work. Then, they strategized their movements for the future, including the continued manufacturing and distribution of guns to their people.
Because, until her nightmare ended, there was still work to do. And she was the only one who could do it.
Work, something to do, had always been her refuge. It kept her sane and focused.
And it gave her frustration and anguish a place to go.
***
It had been almost a week, and Em still had no idea what to say to Flint.
So, she’d just avoided him.
Standing at her window, she watched him leave the manor. Feeling guilty. And cowardly. Flint didn’t know yet, of course. She’d know if he knew.
The man would have broken down her door to talk to her if he knew.
Or yell at her.
Depending on how mad he was.
At this rate, he would find out when Thiago gave him the bride price.
“When the time’s right, I’ll make you disappear. We can hide and play games until it’s all over.”
Em hugged herself.
She’ll tell Flint tonight. Well, she’ll tell him the Thiago part. And reassure him she had a plan. Maybe. Actually, some of her was afraid that if she spoke ‘the plan’ aloud, it would disappear.
Like all her other ‘plans’ had.
She turned away from the window and started dressing.
When Annie proved to be just as persistent in trying to get information out of Em, she sent the maid away. Em dressed herself all the time at the March, she could manage here, too.
Mostly.
As long as it wasn’t some complicated outfit with button eyes all down her back and the dress nearly skin-tight
Those dresses were usually the prettiest ones. They’d flow out around her legs and give her room to move and dance…
She shook her head.
Not today. Today, she was wearing something middle-class and plain. Just like yesterday. And three days ago.
It was odd.
Now that she’d given up on all of her former plans, instead of feeling despair, she felt… Felt like spinning in front of her mirror. Watching the skirt flow out as giggles rose up her throat.
Tilting back her head as she spun and spun and spun…
Right into a padded stool.