Page 135 of Fear the Flames
“You’ve lost your mind.” Ailliard looks as feral as he sounds. He’s never been good at wielding his emotions, and it has always made him sloppy. It’s the exact reason he prematurely took me from Imirath. He didn’t think; he acted rashly and regretted it.
“I would say you lost yours, but you can’t lose what you never had,” Cayden snarls at Ailliard.
“You will not speak ill of my queen,” Saskia adds. The pride in my chest is drowned in a sea of wariness. Did she know about Cayden spying on me? Did Ryder know?
Eagor raises his hand in the air and shakes his head. “This is madness,” he mutters. “Guards, seize them!”
“Guards, stay where you are,” Cayden calmly commands.
The guards stay where they are. I look toward Saskia; she’s unarmed, not even a knife on her thigh. Only men wear swords on their belts for these kinds of occasions. I take one of my hands off Cayden and reach toward her.
“We need to get swords,” I mutter while suctioning her to my side.
“There’s an armory a few doors down,” she whispers.
There are the five of us, three if you’re not including Saskia and I who still need to get swords, and four of Cayden’s generals—giving us nine in total. Two of the generals are also women and need weapons. Eagor has twenty-eight advisors and invited the entirety of them. They’re all armed with swords on their belts.
“Guards, draw your swords,” Cayden commands. The six guards that line the walls comply with Cayden’s order. “They may be your guards, but they’re my soldiers.” Cayden smirks while twirling his sword in his hand, “You may have worn the crown, but the title belonged to me. I always was the King of Vareveth; you were just my puppet.” Eagor lets out a frustrated growl as the guards closest to us come to stand on our side of the room. The two guards by the entrance stay behind Eagor and his advisors, swords drawn in their direction.
This is a coup.
We’re still outnumbered, but the odds are better now that the guards are on our side. I take my hand out of Cayden’s without saying anything to him and turn away. I gesture for the two female generals to follow us. We slip from the door just as I hear Cayden yell for them to charge. The clashing of steel shortly follows.
The burden of everything that’s happened tonight weighs on my shoulders, but I don’t let it drag me down since I still have too much to do. I follow Saskia wordlessly to a door at the end of the hall. She reaches into a sconce and pulls a gold key free from behind the candle. She shoves the door open and grabs the first sword she sees. I follow her in and do the same, grabbing another throwing knife and tucking it into my holster.
“Saskia, tell me truthfully,” I begin as we run back toward the room, “did you know anything—the spying or about what was going on tonight?”
“Not a single fucking thing,” she snarls, sounding just as angry as I am.
We whip the door open and join the fray. Blood already coats the polished floors, and at least three advisors are down. My eyes are drawn away from searching for the others when three soldiers rush toward Saskia and me. I take my dragon dagger from my thigh and throw it at the middle advisor rushing at us. They’re close enough in range that it’s easy to throw the dagger into his chest; he collapses to the floor while Saskia and I charge the other two coming our way. Normally, I play defense first to get a feel for the other fighter, but tonight I crave blood. I swing my blade out, letting the advisor deflect it before bringing my foot upward and kicking him in the groin. He crumples into himself, and I slice his neck open while spinning around his body to move on to the next advisor.
This one is more skilled with a blade. I continue to block his advances. I pull my arm back to deliver a menacing blow, but the sleeve of my dress catches on the top of one of the dining chairs. All I can manage to do is block his next swing as he brings his fist forward and hits me in my bruised ribs. I hunch forward, trying to fight the pain when he swings his leg and kicks the cut and bruise that’s visible through the slit in my dress.
My leg wobbles, but I use the chair to keep me upright. I make the split decision to drop my sword while he raises his in the air. I whip my hand across my body and take the last knife from my holster and drag it across his stomach, jerking my head away before his blood can spray in my eyes. He falls forward, and I rip my dress sleeve to scramble to the side and avoid his body landing on top of me. I kneel on the floor next to him while I rub the spot on my ribs he hit. It hurts to breathe, and my cut throbs terribly. Blood continues to trickle down my leg, matching my busted lip and bruised cheek.
My eyes search for the others within the mob. I first spot Finnian; his hair always makes it easy. He’s on the opposite side of the room by the wall of doors that face the lake, battling one burly advisor. Next, I find Ryder; two advisors are on him. He whirls his swords like an ancient dance of war. He fights with so much fluidity. I don’t think he even contemplates his moves; he lets his blades conduct him.
Where is Cayden? My anxiety spikes.
My eyes move back and forth rapidly over the battle, but I don’t see him anywhere. Most advisors are down, which doesn’t surprise me considering they’re battling soldiers. Eagor is backed into a corner with two advisors defending him, but I don’t see Valia with him. My eyes catch a wave of movement within the crowd—it’s Ailliard. He’s running diagonally in front of me with his sword drawn. He doesn’t move as swiftly as he usually does. My eyes track his target, and my heart sinks to the floor when I take in Cayden’s unguarded back. Ailliard is rushing at Cayden’s back while he takes on three advisors in front of him.
“Ailliard, stop!” I shout. “Ailliard!” My commands are drowned out by the battle. I feel every footstep he takes closer to Cayden in my bones. My eyes glance at the knife in my hand and then back to Ailliard, recalling Ailliard correcting my sword fighting stance, Ailliard bringing me a cake on my birthday, Ailliard teaching me how to dance because he wanted me to remember I was a princess, Ailliard teaching me how to read, Ailliard bringing me new seeds for my garden.
That Ailliard is dead. He’s in the past and will forever remain there. Cayden’s treachery still sours my stomach. He spied on me, he lied to me, he hid things from me, but he is where my future is. I don’t know what that future looks like now, but he’s in it.
Not Ailliard.
Cayden threw himself in front of a dragon for me, and Ailliard threw me to the wolves the second he heard a whisper from Imirath.
I zone in on Ailliard’s back and throw my knife.
ChapterFifty-Five
My knife whirls through the air and sinks between Ailliard’s shoulder blades. Time moves in slow motion as I watch his body fall to the floor, head smacking against the polished tile. He used to be one of the strongest people in the world to me, and now he’s dead. I look at my empty hand and then at Ailliard again.
I killed him.
Tears prickle my eyes, and a sob erupts from my throat. I feel hot all over my body, and my breathing is coming in short and ragged gasps.I killed him.There’s nobody between him and I. Most of the advisors are dead. Cayden killed two out of the three that were on him and is finishing the last.
