Page 70 of Of Skulls Of Shackles

King Raise was made of thousands of staircases. Thousands of them, and yet not a single one connected with another. There was not any pathway through him that I could take to walk—in a spiritual sense—from the bottom of him to the top. The stairways did not leadanywhere. There was no point to them beyond the forming them. The pain and suffering painted before me could only revolt, for King Raise was scrambled and directionless. “Was love the culprit of this, or purpose, or protocol?”

I swallowed a fresh surge of bile.

The answer rose, and I closed my eyes to sway with the weight of the realization. “He was a foot soldier.”

“He was,” croaked Princess Raise. “How did you know? Why is that relevant?”

I had not believed it was relevant at all. King Change had uttered such nonsense that I had disregarded as an effort to undo me. But had not King Change spoken of wanting me to succeed only to see me crumble apart the world with my feebleness? “’Tis relevant because a foot soldier is not meant to lead. Filled with merit of immortality as he was, your husband dedicated himself to what ancients asked of him anyway, but he never felt sure in the mantle of king. He never had direction within. His only truth in kingdom has been falling in love with a princess, and that is why love became his only direction and mantle.”

The revelation was staggering.

King Raise watched me, and there was such pain in his gaze because I had uncovered the fear of his soul and that which he had hidden for centuries.

I gripped his shoulder, not removing my power from his body. “You held your kingdom and yourself together, King Raise. I greatly admire you for this, for you were never designed to be a king nor rule a kingdom, but you did the best you could regardless.”

Love would not heal him. Nor purpose, nor protocol.

But a queen would.

“In the end, you were only meant to hold yourself together for as long as I took to arrive,” I told him softly. “With the help of a princess and three pawns you made it here. Now a queen has arrived to alleviate your burden forevermore, dear foot soldier.”

I understood King Raise astutely. I keenly felt what his immortal pain and confusion and feelings of ineptitude had been. How the only thing that had made sense in kingdom had been love.

Oil leaked from where his eyes must be. Tears of a king. A travesty. “Do you speak true, young queen? Will you save me? Will my princess be okay?”

Even now, filled with my power and seconds from bowing to me, his princess was foremost in this thoughts. Was that strength and power or a complete unraveled weakness? Maybe both. I could only be sure that such uncertainty was not what I would share with King See. Not now I had witnessed this.

“I will save you, Raise,” I told him. “If you will let me.”

We were equal in power. If he did not concede, then we could remain at this table for the rest of our days. Because I would not concede to him ever.

King Raise’s inhale shook. “I was but a foot soldier, and I long to be so again. A foot soldier who exists for his princess. I would be that and no more. Please.”

Ah.I straightened, gripping my power within him. “You will be as I tell you, Raise. That is all. Pawns, remove the princess.”

This would be a monstrous affair. Raise and I were about to climb thousands of stairs.

One after another after another, I feared.

Until we reached the top of the path.

To see what might be there.

So I did. In my mind’s eye, in my power, I set my feet upon the first staircase, and then I cast my power wide to find the next set of stairs that was meant to connect to the first. It was a puzzle, I quickly learned, and one that did not only require intelligence.

My power drained with each connection, but at least with each stairway connected, there remained one less to work with.

Yet the number of them threatened to overwhelm a queen.

Stairways dragged through oil, reluctant to answer my order. Yet I climbed, and with me and beside me, King Raise climbed too. I dragged him, for he was not capable of climbing this alone. His battle to get this far had left him weary beyond measure.

I would climb for us both.

Stairways became fewer, from thousands to hundreds, then to tens.

I grunted, staggering slightly from the power expenditure of calling another stairway.

“Close,” whispered Raise.

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