“No?” The Kaiser’s softly spoken word echoes in the silence and raises goose bumps down my spine.
My mouth is dry, and when I speak, my voice rasps. “You offered him mercy if he spoke, Your Highness. He did speak.”
The Kaiser leans forward. “Did he? I may not speak Astrean, but he didn’t seem particularly forthcoming.”
The words flow before I can stop them. “He had only half a dozen comrades left, after all your great efforts to destroy them. He believes the remaining men and women were killed in the earthquake in the Air Mine, but if any survived, they are supposed to meet him just south of the Englmar ruins. There is a cluster of cypress trees there.”
There is at least a fraction of truth in that. I used to play in those trees every summer when my mother took her annual tour of the town that had been leveled by an earthquake the year before I was born. Five hundred people had died that day. Until the siege, it was the greatest tragedy Astrea had ever faced.
The Kaiser tilts his head and watches me too closely, as if he can read my thoughts like words on a page. I want to cower, but I force myself to hold his gaze, to believe my lie.
After what feels like hours, he motions to the guard next to him. “Take your best men. There’s no telling what magic the heathens have.”
The guard nods and hurries from the room. I’m careful to keep my face impassive, even while I want to weep with relief. But when the Kaiser turns his cold eyes back to me, that relief turns hard and sinks to the pit of my stomach.
“Mercy,” he says quietly, “is an Astrean virtue. It is what makes you weak, but I’d hoped we saved you from that. Perhaps blood always wins out in the end.”
He snaps his fingers and the guard forces the hilt of his iron sword into my hands. It’s so heavy that I struggle to lift it. The Earth Gems glint in the light, and their power makes my hands itch. It’s the first time since the siege that I’ve been allowed to handle any kind of gem, or any kind of weapon, for that matter. Once, I would have welcomed it—anything to make me feel like I had a little bit of power—but instead, my stomach lurches as I look at Ampelio lying at my feet and realize what the Kaiser expects me to do.
I shouldn’t have spoken up; I shouldn’t have tried to save him. Because there is something worse than watching the light leave the eyes of the only person I have left in the world—it’s driving the sword into him myself.
My stomach twists at the thought and bile rises into my throat. I grip the sword, struggling to box myself up again and bury Theodosia even deeper before I end up with a sword at my throat as well. But it can’t be done this time. Everything feels too much, hurts too badly, hates too fiercely to be contained now.
“Perhaps sparing your life was a mistake.” His voice is casual, but it makes the threat all the clearer. “Traitors receive no pardons, from me or the gods. You know what to do.”
I barely hear him. I barely hear anything. Blood pounds in my ears, blurring my vision and my thoughts until all I can see is Ampelio lying at my feet.
“Father, is this really necessary?” Prinz S?ren steps forward. The alarm in his voice surprises me, but so does the strength behind it. No one has ever contradicted the Kaiser. The court is as surprised as I am, and they break their silence with whispers that are only interrupted when the Kaiser slams his hands against the arms of the throne.
“Yes,” he hisses, leaning forward. His cheeks are a vicious red, though whether it’s anger at his son or embarrassment at being questioned it’s difficult to say. “It is necessary. And let it be a lesson to you as well, S?ren. Mercy is what lost the Astreans their country, but we are not so weak.”
The word weak falls like a curse—to the Kalovaxians there is no worse insult. Prinz S?ren flinches from it, his own cheeks coloring as he takes a step back, eyes downcast.
At my feet, Ampelio shudders, his grip on my ankle twitching.
“Please, My Queen,” he says in Astrean.
I am not your queen! I want to scream. I am your princess, and you were supposed to save me.
“Please,” he says again, but there is nothing I can do for him. I have seen dozens of men before him executed for far less than this. It was foolish to think that he would be spared, even if the information I gave had been true. I could beg the Kaiser until my throat was raw and it wouldn’t do any good. It would only end with a blade at my back as well.
“Please,” he says again before launching into rapid Astrean that I struggle to keep up with. “Or he will kill you, too. It is time for the After to welcome me. Time to see your mother again. But it is not your time yet. You will do this. You will live. You will fight.” And I understand. I almost wish I didn’t. His blessing is its own kind of curse.
No. I can’t do it. I can’t kill a man. I can’t kill him. I’m not the Kaiser, I’m not the Theyn, I’m not Prinz S?ren. I’m…Something shifts deep inside me. Theodosia, Ampelio called me. It’s a strong name—the one my mother gave me. It’s the name of a queen. It doesn’t feel like a name I deserve, but here I stand, alone. If I am to survive, I must be strong enough to live up to it.
I must be Theodosia now.
My hands begin to shake as I lift the sword. Ampelio is right; someone will do it, whether it’s me or one of the Kaiser’s guards, but I will make it quicker, easier. Is it better to have your life ended by someone who hates you or someone who loves you?
Through the thin, torn shirt he wears—more red than white now—I feel the vertebrae of his spine. The blade fits below his shoulders, between two protruding ribs. It will be like cutting steak at dinner, I tell myself, but I already know it won’t be like that at all.
He turns his head so that his eyes meet mine. There is something familiar in his gaze that wrings my heart in my chest and makes it impossible to breathe. There is no doubt left in me. This man is my father.
“You are your mother’s child,” he whispers.
I tear my eyes away from him and focus on the Kaiser instead, holding his gaze. “Bend not, break not,” I say clearly, quoting the Kalovaxian motto before I plunge the sword into Ampelio’s back, cutting through skin and muscle and bone to strike his heart. His body is so weak, so mangled already, that it’s almost easy. Blood gushes up, covering my dress.
Ampelio gives a twitch and a shallow cry before going limp. His hand slips away from my ankle, though I feel the bloody handprint left behind. I withdraw the sword and pass it back to the guard. Numb. Two other guards step forward to drag the body away, leaving a trail of slick red in its wake.
“Take the body to the square and hang it for everyone to see. Anyone who tries to move it will join him,” the Kaiser says before turning back to me. His smile pools in the pit of my stomach like oil. “Good girl.”
Blood soaks my dress, stains my skin. Ampelio’s blood. My father’s blood. I curtsy before the Kaiser, my body moving without my mind’s consent.
“Clean yourself up, Lady Thora. There will be a banquet tonight to celebrate the fall of Astrea’s greatest rebel, and you, my dear, will be the guest of honor.”
I drop into another shallow curtsy and bow my head. “Of course, Your Highness. I look forward to it.”
The words don’t feel like my own. My mind is churning so deeply I’m surprised I can find words at all. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to take that bloody sword back and stab it into the Kaiser’s chest, even if I die in the process.
“It is not your time yet,” Ampelio’s voice whispers through my mind. “You will live. You will fight.”
The words don’t bring me any comfort. Ampelio is dead, and with him my last hope of being rescued.