WATER GRAVE |

{ i }

War.

Asta had never experienced war.

The callousness of it.

Violence in quick succession coming from every direction.

Blades flashing in the light of morning, clashing hard, ringing metal, sparks flying. Magic brightened the skies and scalded the earth.

Horses galloped, cried their inhuman cries, and fell wounded with their riders spilling blood, guts pouring out from the belly of the beast—sick pink, foreign anatomy.

Men and women, armed with spears, swords, staffs, and bows. Running each other through with their weapons, blood splattering, and bodies fallen lifeless, red soaking into the earth. Life left them like flecks of gold floating into the sky, vanishing in the winds that carried them. Agony clung to those with broken blades or arrows embedded in their bodies, twisted on the ground trampled by other soldiers—ally and foe alike. Their despair was a request for death, one final hit to end the pain. Slow, like time stopped, but watching them and seeing those fallen soldiers, limbs twitching, bodies wounded, it seemed to have done so.

No time to mourn. Time wasted meant death. The smallest mistake meant death. All the little details carried more weight.

Sacrifice.

Asta had made her mind up about sacrifices, but counting the dead—the amount was beyond her scope of consideration.

There in the midst of the battlefield, struggling with shaky, foreign hands to string her bow with blood reddening her vision, she learned there was no kindness in war. No mercy. A heart was useless in battle. Unfortunate, she thought, that she could not simply carve the appendage from her chest and hide in a box until she had the peace to process the grittiness of war. If she could put her emotions under lock and key, she might have steadied her hands long enough to string her bow as she had hundreds of times before, but her fingers were throbbing in pain and bleeding from all of her mistakes.

The three soldiers on the ground around her wouldn't have had to die protecting her.

Useless.

So utterly useless.

The war had ended with Asta on the floor failing to string her bow and five new bodies guarding her in death. Kouen found her in her sorry state as the last of her men dispersed to help capture the remaining soldiers after Baron's capture of Nikias had brought them to heel.

Kouen helped her back on her feet and walked away from her to greet the captured prince agonizing from the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. She had not expected a reaction out of him. Her mind was too busy buzzing with images of war—death and carnage—to care. Aghi was at her side talking into her right ear in a language that she could no longer comprehend.

Carina appeared shortly, filling her vision with her worried face. Carina took the bow from her and clasped Asta's bloodied hands. She spoke in the same tongue Aghi had before the world went black.

{ ii }

Asta regained consciousness in the warm tent she shared with her husband in a campsite ringing with celebration. She felt the familiar warmth of the brazier and the fur blankets piled atop her body. She raised her hands up to her eyes, turned them palm up then down again, searching for the cuts she recalled vividly in her mind. There was nothing. Not a scratch on them.

Her face didn't have any either, even though she recalled that the bowstring hit her hard across one side of the face, from above her left eyebrow down over her lips. Like a whip, it had seared off the skin and left her bleeding nonstop. She believed she passed out from the blood loss in the battlefield, but it could have also been because of the horrors she had seen.

The image in her mind was suddenly replaced by that of Theodora's crown disintegrating into dust when she touched it. She felt strange sitting up after that, but became aware of the light scratch of writing coming from the corner of the tent. Kouen sat behind that narrow desk crammed with maps and papers and books. Seeing him there dressed down in a simple robe with a pensive air about him, despite wearing the same serious face, made it feel as if nothing had happened.

She almost asked if she had a nightmare.

"Nikias?"

"He was detained alive as a result of your efforts and has since taken a vow of silence."

"His magicians and his army—what happened t—?"

"Detained."

"And my wounds…I had…more than…"

"Healed."

He didn't need to say obviously for his response to have been said as though he had.

Asta pushed the blankets away from her legs and went to the edge to stand up. Her legs were so weak that she stumbled after taking a step forward, falling on her knees. She stood up quickly and headed for the entrance.

"Asta."

She paused, turning.

"We need to talk."

Asta walked to the front of his desk wary of whatever subject he wanted to address.

Kouen stopped writing and offered her his full attention. "What are you?"

Agnes asked her the same question. Same as then, she provided Kouen with an unsatisfying response. "I'm—I'm normal."

"Are you versed in any type of magic?"

She shook her head.

"Tell me about the Queen of Baryon."

Asta breathed out and slowly returned to the side of the bed to sit. Melik must have told him to ask after that specific event to prove something, but what exactly. Wouldn't admitting to all of the things that went on in her head mean she was crazy? She didn't think Kouen would be too pleased to realize that he married a woman with a propensity for delusions.

"What happened with the Queen of Baryon was coincidental," she started. "It doesn't prove anything."

Kouen stood up and went to her. "Tell me about it."

She told him everything she possibly could about Queen Aquila, starting from the last Byzen Festival eight years ago. She explained its purpose for a while, afraid of telling him about how early her dreams had begun, but she divulged it. She revealed all of the details of the story, including her restless nature as a child and later, her determination to find a way to contribute to the search for the missing queen. She tried to discern some sort of reaction out of his expression around the time she started to tell him when her nightmares began during the Byzen Festival, several days before Aquila had gone missing in the first place. Asta remembered that she used to sit and have breakfast with the vibrant queen with her neck sparkling with ruby necklaces against her pale skin. Telling the story to another other than herself made her recall all those instances in which she had seen Aquila—all of those missed opportunities.

Now in her mind, she knew that admitting these things made her look crazy and she feared doing so would damn her to her mother's fate. After all, what use was a wife with a mind filled with delusions? She spoke to her deceased father, heard his voice whisper in her ear tauntingly, and he appeared before her in various states of decomposition, all frightening her.

She couldn't face Kouen after she finished speaking about the Byzen Festival. She covered every detail through to the end when she and the three princes unearthed Aquila's shallow grave.

"Was that the first instance you experienced such a dream?" he asked patiently.

"I have had them before, but not in the same capacity," she answered, staring at her hands on her lap, her knuckles white and her nails pressed hard against her reddened palms. "This story only serves to damn me. I am defective, you know, and I see nightmares in reality. I dreamt peacefully once, I lived in denial and lived normally, but I cannot do that anymore because I see them. I see shadows in my sleep and speak to the dead when I wake. Yes, I am normal, but my mind is not."

"And if what you possess is a gift?"

Asta lifted her eyes from her lap to his face. "I have never once considered it a gift."

"Is that because you don't understand the nature of your gift?"

Asta didn't understand her reason for crying, but she felt the warm tears fall down her cheeks as she left her seat. She thought that standing would make her feel better than sitting, but it made her feel smaller standing in front of Kouen. "You think this is a gift?"

"We don't live in a world where it would be considered impossible," he replied calmly. "There are magicians that can use their magic to glimpse into the past or peek into the future. If what you told me of the Byzen Festival, you predicted the death of a woman long before it occurred. You walked with her and allowed her to show you where she would be found."

"Or perhaps, that was all the imaginings of a child?" she interjected, her voice trembling. "Maybe I guessed correctly in every turned and maybe the woman in my dreams was not the missing queen, but the manifestation of a child's fear."

"Maybe it was Clairvoyance Magic."

"And if it wasn't? The future of Ione does not look fine from where I stand if it weren't."

"Ione will not suffer if it wasn't, but if it was, I must know."

Asta covered her mouth before the sob escaped her because it wasn't a gift but a terrifying curse. There were many other implications attached to it being an actual thing. If she ignored it, she feared she was going insane, if she embraced it, the other side felt cold and unwelcoming. If she admitted that she was seeing the future in her dreams, it meant she could've saved Aquila had she not been afraid. She couldn't handle the weight of another life on her conscious. She didn't know what was worse.

"I don't know," she told him. "What I am if I am that and if I'm not anything but an explosion waiting to happen—I don't know. Whatever I am, please don't let Ione suffer, and until I have an answer, please don't tell anyone."

Kouen nodded. "You have my word."

She shamefully dried her tears with the long sleeves of her robe. She sniffled noisily, imagining her appearance as she tried to avoid eye contact with her husband.

"Your hard work in Corrin is appreciated, Asta," he told her. "You did a good job."

Asta nodded, saying nothing.

"You should rest."

"I want to speak to Nikias before I do."

"You can try to talk with him tomorrow."

Asta sank back into the bed set for them. She realized she didn't know what she would tell Nikias when she saw him. Would she apologize to him? What about all of the things that he wanted to do? Righting the wrongs committed against him. Could she help him in any way?

"Is there any way of tracking the location of the Corrinean princesses my father sold into slavery?" asked Asta, watching Kouen return to his desk.

"Given the nature in which your father chose to deal with the princesses, I would say that it would be unlikely," he said, and it upset her. "You are not at fault for his actions."

"It doesn't make me feel any less guilty. Ione invaded Corrin. My father killed the king and queen, sold the princesses, and forced the country to pick up their weapons."

"Think about the Kou Empire's ultimate goal," he told her, "perhaps that will lessen the bitterness."

Asta gathered up the blankets and returned to the comfort of the bedding. The sheets were soft, not quite like the ones in her guestroom at Nikias' hidden palace, and the blankets were warm. It smelled like Kouen—familiar.

She woke up when Kouen was getting into bed.

"Is it morning?" she asked, yawning.

"No."

She moved over a little because she felt she was hogging the space. She watched him settle before she hugged her pillow closer and closed her eyes again.

Asta was excited to see Hua the next morning when the raven-haired woman entered the tent to help her get dressed. Hua surprised Asta with a tight hug, but before Asta could return it, Hua let her go and apologized repeatedly as she bowed. Asta embraced her once she stopped apologizing.

"I'm happy to be back," she told Hua.

Hua helped Asta get into one of her dresses and brushed her hair before she braided it. Asta thanked her and excused her for the morning. As she stood inside the tent, staring down at the papers strewn across Kouen's desk, she noticed a dark bottle in her peripheral vision and looked down to one of the table's legs. Against it was the bottle Egil Vång left as a gift. She picked it up by the neck and struggled for several minutes to uncork it, but managed after using several of the quills on the desk to help on her mission—she'd apologize for the ones she broke. She walked out with the bottle in hand to a camp celebrating their victory, as one would expect from the armies responsible for taking over a country. The Ionian soldiers were definitely enjoying themselves.

While no one was looking she took a whiff of the bottle of sweet smelling berries, noting nothing out of order, before she dumped all of its contents out into nearby shrubbery. She left the empty bottle inside her tent and wandered off into the camp in search of Werner or any other person in a position to tell her where Nikias was being kept so that she could talk to him. She planned to lead with an apology for the betrayal, though expected that to go horribly.

"Asta!"

Asta turned in the direction of the voice and spotted Baron in the distance standing with Kouen before she was hoisted up into the air by the waist. She yelped in shock and looked down into Melik's shining black eyes. He was as she remembered him, brown-skinned with his long black hair braided loosely over his shoulder and a handsome face. His body was a tad more muscular than she recalled, but he was still very lean and dressed impeccably with more gold and jewels on him than she ever remembered.

A swell of excitement filled her belly when she realized what Melik had done in front of the entire campsite of soldiers that had only just recently started to see her as a competent leader and Kouen, who she thought she liked but would never admit. Melik lifted her up as one would a small child and spun her around mercilessly, laughing boisterously, until he grew tired himself and set her on her feet.

Her face was a deep red and the world was spinning.

Melik patted her head. "Have you even grown, little Asta? You are as small as the last I saw you."

"I did!" she complained.

"And you're married now!" He nudged her shoulder teasingly as Kouen and Baron approached them. "I always imagined you would go off and marry some nice fellow—a never hurt a fly sort of guy—but Ren Kouen of the Kou Empire? That's amazing! Good job! Congratulations! When should I expect my first niece or nephew?"

"That's enough, brother," chastised Baron, frowning at his elder brother.

"Thank you for coming to our aid," said Asta, trying to steer the conversation into a new direction.

"You have no reason to thank me," replied Melik. "I am but one of your humble servants."

"I wanted to speak with Nikias," started Asta, looking to Kouen. "Where is he?"

"He's in Egil's supply tent," replied Kouen. "Go if you must, but take someone with you."

"I'll accompany you," Baron offered.

She thanked him, but as she was going to leave to find Egil's supply tent, she turned back to Kouen and Melik. "What about Nohr and Lorah? Their armies should be in Corrin within the week."

"We are to discuss that during tonight's gathering," said Kouen. "Don't be late."

She nodded.

Baron showed her the way to the supply tent. It was a little isolated from the camp. The other prisoners were held in the mountains, separate from their prince, to keep them from the temptation of resurgence. Asta asked Baron to wait outside as she entered the small tent.

There were craters of tools and supplies stacked up high and low around Nikias who sat with his arms bound behind his back. He lifted his face to see her and his pale eyebrows knitted with disgust.

"Nikias, I'm—"

"You shot an arrow through me," Nikias interrupted, voice low and menacing. "You tried to kill me."

"I hit your shoulder," she told him.

"You tried to kill me," he repeated.

"Nikias, I'm so—"

"You tried to kill me!" he shouted, startling her. "You tried to kill me! You betrayed me! I love you! I would've done anything for you, but you turned your back on me!"

Asta swallowed hard, watching him so affected by his words. She waited for him to calm down, but heard him murmur repeatedly that she betrayed him. It saddened her, twisted her heart until it hurt. She stepped closer to him and Nikias shuffled back, hitting hard against the crates behind him. She saw him in that heartbreaking reaction—the boy she thought was lost, frightened, and full of vulnerabilities.

"You're not," she said, moving back to her position by the entrance. He glared at her. "You aren't in love with me."

"You don't know what is in my heart," he spat.

"You don't love me," she repeated. "You cannot use that against me when you said it yourself that you love the idea of me. Maybe the feelings were real at some point, but the girl that fascinated you—that protected and defended you—I'm not her. You saw that the first instant we met and it disappointed you. I disappointed you. I was not the woman that you expected to reunite with and had I been, I would not be married to Kouen. This invasion would not have happened."

"This invasion happened because you were weak! You couldn't stand up to your father! You allowed him to run your kingdom to the ground and let him seek help from the Kou Empire! You damned us all for your weakness! You destroyed the Byzen Cluster!"

"Yes," she said, feeling a stab in her chest after each accusation. "I have my shortcomings, but this was not my fault alone. So yes, I am weak. I have never stood up against my father and he ran Ione into so much debt that it was easy for the Kou Empire to sweep in and help us. You say I ruined the Cluster, but have you not forgotten how you agreed to aid Freja in sacking me?"

"I did it for you." Nikias didn't look at her. "I had no obligation to keep up the agreement my mother made with her, but I knew that she planned to use you until she could dispose of you. I knew that I could protect you—I understood that aligning myself to that woman would guarantee your survival."

"My father guaranteed my survival by marrying me off to the Kou Empire. I hate to acknowledge his contribution to the chaos as something positive, but he is the reason I'm alive. He anticipated the coming of another uprising. He likely pinpointed it to his sister himself. He damned the country to rebuild it back to its former glory, but failed in taking action when it came to maintaining the economy. I am fortunate that our army caught Kouen's eyes, else I would not be here, and you would likely be dead."

"Am I not already dead?" asked Nikias. "You may have a fragile heart, but your husband does not. What did you come for? To pretend at showing me mercy and giving me a last bit of hope before I am executed in front of your people. Take my kingdom, you traitorous whore, and I hope that when it comes time for you to truly face the consequences of your father's actions that you will think back to this hour and regret your sinful words. You should be begging for my mercy! You should be begging me to love you! You're a fool—an idiot! You think you can be happy being a conqueror's wife? Surrounded by war and violence, reminded every hour of everyday about all the countries you are watching the Kou Empire swallow whole? Will you stand idle as the Kou Empire takes our cultures and strips us of our identities?"

Asta felt her hands fist at her sides. "Nikias…"

Nikias struggled against his chains, ambling to stand, but was forced back into his seat because of the short link. His eyes were wide with fury. "This isn't over! This is the beginning!"

"You are not going to be executed! I will not allow it! So, no, it isn't over! You can still be here for your country! It'll be different—yes, but the people will be the same—"

"I'd rather be dead," he spat.

"Nikias, I'm doing everything I can to make this—"

"Just get out!"

Theodora's crown shattering in her touch came to mind and her heart seized. "Nikias, please, you have to listen—"

"Get out!"

"I'm afraid of—"

"Just get out!"

Asta fell silent as he repeated for her to leave and resigned to do so, venturing outside where Baron waited. He patted her shoulder with a supportive smile, but she couldn't shake the sharp pain she felt embedded deep in her chest.

"Are you okay?" asked Baron.

"No, I'm not," she answered, "but whether I am or not makes no difference."

She had a bad feeling.

"What do you mean?"

"We have more important things to worry about," she told him instead. She was exhausted by her cursed sight that made no sense spoken aloud. It was safe to say that she learned nothing in her conversation with Kouen about what he considered the ability to use Clairvoyance Magic. She wasn't the least bit magical.

Maybe she was crazy. Maybe she wasn't.

Asta left Baron's side to rejoin Kouen, with who she remained for the larger portion of the morning and afternoon. She wasn't quite sure what to do before the celebratory dinner everyone was having later before the war council about the pending arrivals of Louise of Lorah and Ilya of Nohr. There wasn't a lot of conversing going on between her and Kouen, but she felt at ease by his side, though there came a point in which he had grown tired of her constant glimpsing in his direction that he handed her something to read—to "learn" about something useful. It was a boring old history book about the first people.

"You're like an old man trapped in a young body," she murmured, lying flat on her stomach with the tome opened atop a pillow.

"And you're a child," he shot back, very calmly from his seat at his desk.

She rested her cheek over the book, staring at him. "Does it get better?"

"What?"

"Taking lives."

Kouen looked in her direction. "No," he said, returning his eyes to the scroll that he was reading. "It never does."

The thought was an upsetting one, but she appreciated his honesty. Anyone else might have lied to make her feel better, she didn't know.

"What will happen to Nikias?" she asked. "Will you have him killed?"

"Not if he can be convinced to serve the Kou Empire," he replied, "or you at the very least."

Asta raised her head. "What?"

"You are surprisingly magnetic."

Her face betrayed her emotions the instant the blood rushed to her cheeks. He praised her. He called her magnetic, of course, it wasn't without the hint of an insult, but he was praising her. "What?"

"You attract good fortune and people," he continued leisurely. "There are people naturally attracted to you. Perhaps, it is your naivety or your innocence or your blind belief in people or maybe it's because you are a pushover, but you inspire the protection of others and that breeds affection. In Ione, you were viewed as the hope of the country because there was such a stark contrast between you and your father. You were soft, graceful, and kind where he was hard, boorish, and cruel. Here you proved that your influence spread further, all the way to Hassah. There are people willing to fight for you, to serve you, and despite your flaws, it is obvious that there is more to you than meets the eye. You have the potential to be a leader."

To have even the slightest speck of possibility was all she ever wanted. If she had that tiny bit, she could do something. Hearing him say that she had potential to become a leader was praise beyond her expectation. And yet, in the midst of warfare, she recalled her sorry state. Seated in a patch of grass soaked in the blood of her soldiers, surrounded by the corpses of those that fought to protect her and fell, her fingers cut and bleeding as she desperately tried to restring her bow. She didn't know why she was so focused on it when Werner had returned her dagger to her and she knew how to use it—on the game she hunted, but war was different.

How different? She asked herself now, repeating the question over and over again in her mind. She would be taking life either way. One carried a little more weight than the other did. Morality was questioned with one.

It felt easy for her to tell him that she didn't want to be a leader—that she hated the violence and death attached to the occupation, but that meant giving up on her people, on Nikias' people, and on the rest of the Byzen Cluster. She couldn't do that.

"With proper guidance," Kouen finished.

Asta raised her head. "Meaning?"

"Not long ago I told you that you would become the Byzen Cluster's retainer," said Kouen. "After what you accomplished here, I have a little more confidence in your ability to become a greater asset to the Kou Empire."

She shut the book on her pillow. She remembered. She aspired to become the ideal when he first proposed it, but feared it now because she felt she was going insane.

"I will expect no less from you," he continued. "Continue doing your best."

She would need to find the strength needed to rule. She couldn't fall apart in the same manner that she had with Brenna Falk and her five traitors. She needed to be free of it.

Asta got out of the bed to pick up her bow from atop a chair. The wood was stained with blood same with the string. It was hers. Mostly. She noticed something upon closer inspection. The ends where the line was strung were made weak. It wasn't a bow meant for long-term use. She returned it to its place, leaving it with whatever spark of suspicion she felt rise from her chest.

"Is something wrong?" asked Kouen.

"No. Everything's fine."

Her fingers ached from the memory. She moved them, stared at them, remembered the cuts on them, and as she rubbed her thumb and forefinger together she felt an odd accumulation of feeling rising from the pit of her stomach moving up to her throat. It was happening again. The air was thinning.

Why was it happening again?

She took a step back, her ankle bent, and she fell back. She hit the ground hard and gasped for air. Distantly, she heard Kouen call her name, but she had already sunken into that nether realm. She heard footsteps echoing on marble floor in a rhythmic manner and ringing laughter.

Asta lifted herself up and saw a large hall spread out before her, the warm colors of her tent blending into the pure white interior of the new location stitched into her mind. The architecture reminded her of Nikias' hidden palace—arches and pillars, high tinted windows with elaborate designs.

In the center of the floor was a crowd of people dancing, moving around in circles that reminded her of the ashen figures that she once envisioned whirling about in her castle shedding off specks of their flakey skin. She spotted Nikias in the middle wearing a sapphire crown on his head dancing with a young woman that resembled him quite a bit to make it obvious that she was one of his sisters. Eris, she determined, because she looked around the age that the first princess would be. She was a tall, thin girl with silver hair down to her upper back sporting a small crown of diamonds and her eyes were a light blue shade. She wore a beautiful white dress.

Twin doors slammed open and Aesop entered leading in a few others, disturbing the festive ambience of the hall. The crowd parted to allow him passage, exposing the King and Queen of Corrin to her view. Asta got on her feet, her heart pounding.

Aesop went down on one knee before the king. "Baryon is under the Kou Empire's control now. King Hákon has landed in Corrin."

Asta saw the scene before her disintegrate and she blinked, regaining conscious in Kouen's arms. A thought ran across her mind as she stared up at her husband. It was Eris' birthday when Hákon began his invasion of Corrin.

"What did you see?" asked Kouen, sitting her upright on the floor.

"The inside of the castle in Atros before my father's invasion," she told him, lightheaded. She spoke before she had a chance to deny that she had seen anything at all. He was humoring her when it came to this gift to which he referred.

"Have you seen this before?"

"Yes," she said, looking at him. "I saw it in Ione, but it had already happened. The day my father was brought home."

He appeared pensive. "If I remember correctly, that day you woke up and said that your father was in Ione seconds before Bengt entered to tell us that his body had been brought to the castle. Did you see that as well?"

The figure in white came to mind walking forward with Theodora's crown and handing it to her. She reached out to touch it and it fell apart.

"No. I heard his voice call my name." She shook her head, starting to freak out. "I don't want to talk about this. It's too much. I can't. I'm sorry."

"You clearly have a gift, Asta."

"I have an overactive imagination." She got on her feet as she rubbed her head. "This is too much. Excuse me."

Asta walked out into a sea of chummy soldiers drinking and praising their good fortune. As she walked past them, unlike before, they took the time to acknowledge her with the respect her title demanded. She was still adjusting to the change.

She searched the camp until she came across Werner sharpening his blade near Egil's setup. Egil was there working by the flames, smelting a dagger to perfection, though he was surrounded by broken weapons. Both men stopped what they were doing immediately and greeted her.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked Werner.

"Yes, of course, you needn't ask."

"When you and my father invaded Corrin, there was a celebration happening in the castle wasn't there?"

Werner lowered his gaze briefly. "Yes, it was Princess Eris' birthday."

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "Thank you for telling me."

{ iii }

Melik found Asta sitting on the mountain overlooking Corrin. She went out there to be alone, too exhausted to celebrate the victory she made possible. She held her knees, seated with her legs folded up to her chest.

"I'm sorry for telling Kouen about Queen Aquila," he said, taking a seat beside her.

"It's okay," she assured. "He would've found out eventually. I'm not angry that you did."

"You being who you are with the abilities that you possess are invaluable."

"I don't have magic."

"I don't understand what it must be like for you to see the things that you do, but I do understand what I saw during the Byzen Festival. You possess a gift that allows you to glimpse into the past and the future with great accuracy. I believe in the girl that found the queen buried under that oak tree when everyone else was convinced that she had run away."

Asta leaned forward to rest her face atop her knees. "I could be going crazy. You saw what happened to my mother."

"You are afraid, not crazy. It is all right to be afraid of things you don't understand." Melik patted her shoulder. "Everything should pan out nicely. You're in a favorable position having been married to the Kou Empire."

"They're an aggressive country that's taking over the Byzen Cluster. You won't be a prince after this takeover is done, you will no longer have any say in what occurs in your country."

"No matter. You have the support of Hassah. You will have the support of Nohr and Lorah as well."

"After what my father has done in Baryon and Corrin? We have Nikias, but the three princesses are lost, sold into slavery. I cannot imagine what they must be going through because of my father's cruelty."

"Baron and I will take charge of searching for the princesses."

"Kouen said there is little hope in finding them."

"Ah, but we aren't the sort that'd give up on finding them so easily. We will find them, but we have to secure Nikias to our side first." He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and smiled at her reassuringly. "I leave that to you."

Melik stood, stretched out.

"Well, don't stay out here long."

"Thank you for coming all this way for me, Melik." She paused. "Before and now."

Melik smiled. "Anything for you."

Asta stayed there for a little longer and got up after dark to join the others. She took a detour to Egil's supply tent where Nikias was kept. There were many more guards posted outside of it, a mixture of soldiers from the Kou Empire, Ione, and Hassah. She would've entered to apologize for earlier, but felt it would be better to leave him to rest. She would've preferred he be kept elsewhere, somewhere more comfortable where he had the opportunity to rest.

Baron spotted her and called her over to where Kouen, Melik, Werner, and Egil were gathered around a long table. She went to stand next to Kouen, placing a hand on his shoulder before she took her seat to his right as Egil was serving him a cup of wine. The liquid was a dark shade.

"Would you like a cup of blackberry wine?" asked Egil, holding the bottle up for her to see.

Asta reached for Kouen's goblet and brought it up to her mouth to drink. It had a dry taste, reminding her more of red wine with a faint blackberry tang. She returned the cup back to its place by Kouen's hand and took her seat.

"No, thank you," she told Egil.

"You have your work cut out for you, Egil," commented Werner.

"Oh, yes, I have plenty of weapons piled up to repair," said Egil, laughing a little. "Don't tell me you worked your sword until it broke."

"Of course not!"

Baron offered her sweetened raspberry wine and she handed him her cup. Melik was enjoying a plate of fruit with his wine. The conversation that they were having before she joined them continued. She didn't have much of an appetite, but she tried to pick at some of the fruit available while she listened to everyone talk.

As the men were discussing the next course of action concerning the forces of Lorah and Nohr arriving from the south, Asta kept her eyes on Egil, the bulky blacksmith. She didn't quite have a reason for doing so, she simply felt drawn to him. It wasn't a form of attraction. Magnetism? No. Something else.

What was it?

"Egil," called Asta, disrupting the conversation.

"Yes, my queen?"

"The bow you gave me," she started, "could you fix it for me?"

"Asta, this isn't the time to have your bow fixed," said Kouen.

"You're right. I'm going to sleep."

"Princess?" called Werner. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

She nodded, drinking the last of her wine, and stood as she set the goblet down on the table beside her half empty plate. "Have all of Nikias' and Freja's moles been captured yet?"

"They are being drawn out," said Kouen.

"Good."

Asta excused herself and returned to the tent. Carina was standing by the entrance with Hua and Aghi. She approached them, happy to see them all together.

"Are you going to sleep now, princess?" asked Hua.

"Yes."

"Let me help you change out of those clothes."

Asta nodded and Hua followed her inside. Carina and Aghi continued chatting outside. Carina was grilling Aghi about Nero of Hassah, who she claimed spent a lot of time following him around the camp. Aghi changed the subject to that of his weapon, one that he acquired in the camp, breaking because the blade was too brittle and he admitted to having to take weapons from the fallen soldiers to keep Asta safe, but Carina admonished him for changing the subject.

Hua helped her get into one of her shifts before leaving to bring her some tea to help her sleep. Asta got into bed and waited, listening to the different sounds outside—the chatter, the wind rustling the leaves in the tree, the crunch of grass and dirt beneath footsteps, and light pelting against the rooftop.

She sat up after hearing a rumble in the sky. She imagined it. Definitely imagined it. It wasn't raining and that wasn't thunder.

The rainfall grew noisier and the sky rumbled again. Asta didn't know what was worse, the coming rainstorm or enduring it and the pending thunderstorm in a tent. She heard shuffling outside and talks of making sandbags while others were glad they didn't have to fight in the middle of a storm.

Asta pulled the blankets over her head the next time she rested her head. She managed to sleep for a few minutes, but woke up to the sound of thunder. She rolled out of bed and grabbed a warm robe, tugging it on, before peering outside. The camp was shrouded in mist and rain. The soldiers present were patrolling the narrow spaces between the smaller tents. The few torches lighting the place were being burnt out, slowly shrouding the camp in darkness.

"Princess, you should remain inside," one of the soldiers standing guard told her.

She returned inside and sat down on top of the low bed. She moved closer to the brazier burning stones and emanating warmth and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She stared into the brazier's black surface.

Asta lost sleep with the storm, jolting every time thunder crackled in the sky.

She was awake when Kouen returned, wrapped up in a blanket.

"Have you not been asleep?" he asked, walking across the tent to find a towel. He was wet from the rain, clothes dripping, and his red hair stuck close to his face.

"I couldn't sleep," she told him, "because of the storm."

Asta turned her face away as he started to undress. She wanted him to have at least some privacy when he did.

"You're afraid of the storm?" he asked, bringing attention to it perhaps because it was a childish fear.

"Everyone is afraid of something," she replied, unconsciously sneaking a peak at Kouen's naked back. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks and glued her eyes to the ground.

"Do you want a glass of wine?"

Asta watched him take a bottle from a case on the ground. "Is it from the ship?"

"Yes. As I recall you saying, drink only from the ship's stores." He handed her the cups and uncorked the bottle of wine. "Did you fear someone would poison me?"

"Well, yes," she said, holding the cups straight for him to pour the wine. She had a dream about. A repetitive one. Those meant something. She didn't repeat scenarios for no reason. "It would not matter anymore if you were or I was."

Kouen took his cup and sat down next to her, a few inches between them. "Why is that?"

"Because we have Baron now." She drank from her cup. It was another dry wine, sour on her tongue with a small hint of alcohol. "He is very knowledgeable in poisons and their remedies." She noticed a hint of interest in his eyes and lowered her gaze immediately. "There is an old story about it."

"What is it?"

"Hassahan royalty used to be made up of several families that warred for the throne. A long line of kings and queens were poisoned to death until a single dynasty remained." Asta shrunk in her seat, holding the cup so close to her mouth that she spoke into it and her voice rang a little strange. "I'm not a very good storyteller, so it isn't an interesting story."

"Do you intend to give up on it before you reach the end?" he asked, drinking wine.

"There is always a Hassahan prince or princess raised in a bed of poison," she told him. "Hassah is a holy land. Shedding blood is a sin within the borders of their country. However, when one wants somebody dead, there is always poison."

"Why did you suppose someone would poison me?"

"One would be stupid not to try."

"That is true."

"We are the enemy."

"For now."

There was silence between them, but the heavy rainfall and thunder outside created a mixture of loud, frightening noises. It was windy too. The way she came to imagine things, the tents were barely hanging on in the face of the storm, though they were quite secure.

Kouen took another drink from his cup before he surprised her by touching her face.

She flinched, moving away uncomfortably. Her face was red. She felt it, the heat radiating from it. She looked at him wide-eyed, likely appearing frightened.

"How did you plan to make our marriage work if you are so offended by my touch?" he asked, staring at her directly.

"I'm not offended by it. I was merely taken aback by it." She also liked him and didn't want him to know about it, though her face was doing a spectacular job in making it known. "I'm sorry if you saw it that way, it was unintentional. I do plan for it to work and—"

A loud rumble made her jolt. The liquid in her cup sloshed around with her sudden movements, but it didn't spill.

"You're afraid of thunder," he determined, just as another boom filtered above them and she reacted with another jerk. She swore she heard every roar of thunder inside of her head. She was shaken to the core by it.

"Y-Yes."

"You should distract yourself away from the fear. The storm will not let up quickly and you will need to rest eventually," he said. "How did you manage before?"

"I used to sneak into my mother's bed up until her death and she would comfort me. After that I..." There was Johan, but it would be impolite to bring that up. "I had Lady Bo. She brewed me tea. Hua already did tonight, but it didn't work."

"Should I distract you?"

Her face was on fire. "How?"

"You're blushing," he pointed out. "You are already considering the possibility of what this may be, are you not?"

"N-No," she lied, but she was. She seriously considered every possibility imaginable.

Kouen took her cup of wine and put in on the floor. He moved a little closer to her with a different air about him. She got the hint as soon as he proposed to distract her and it wasn't a terrible proposal to make. She didn't see why she should turn him down anyway. It wasn't like he would hold her through the night as others have until her fear went away.

"Will it stop hurting?" she asked, heart beginning to speed up.

"Relax," he said. "It would be helpful to us both."

Asta was a little nervous regardless.

"We can take it slow," he told her. "Until you get used to it."

They were going about it all backwards. His words too eased a little of her fear.

She nodded. "C-Can I kiss you?"

"You don't have to ask for permission."

"You've never kissed me before," she said shakily.

"I've never felt tempted to do so."

She pressed her lips together hard. "That doesn't make me want to kiss you anymore."

She saw the hint of a smile curve his lips as he took her by the chin and kissed her briefly. She wanted to burrow under the blankets and hide for the rest of the night. She couldn't stare at him directly, though she felt quite tempted to kiss him again, she refused after what he had told her.

"Does that mean you are tempted now?" she asked softly.

"It might."

Kouen kissed her neck and she felt her body melt like boiled jelly. She felt his hand on her thigh, pushing her shift up over it, and caught the hint. She lifted herself enough to push the light fabric out from underneath her and he helped her pull it off her body. She reclined back into the bed and he followed her down. His drying hair felt cool against her hot skin moving down the length of her small torso, kissing a straight line to her navel. Her breaths quickened and her heart raced, her throat dried.

He raised his eyes and stunned her with a look that astonished her, a hungry one. He pulled her legs apart and proceeded to kiss her inner thigh, moving closer with each one that followed until his mouth was at her entrance and his tongue delving between her folds.

She panicked. Her hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his hair. Breathily, she called, "Kouen! Wait!"

He stopped, raising his head. "What is it?"

"What are you doing?"

"Distracting you," he deadpanned.

"It feels strange," she admitted, swallowing thickly. She did find him extremely appealing in the position he was in, but she was denying that fact to herself as well as him.

"Good or bad?"

"I don't know yet."

"Tell me when you do."

Kouen went back to what he was doing and Asta rested her head back onto the nearest pillow. As she did, she started to feel his intimate kisses as he intended them with wave after wave of startling pleasure. She covered her mouth when the moans started to leave her mouth with more frequency, but midway through, he took her hand and pulled it away from her mouth. She was more embarrassed about her voice leaking out as loud as it did, but he seemed to know what places to kiss with more intimacy to get a stronger reaction out of her.

He quickened his movements, even pushed a finger inside of her, which he thrust shallowly at the same time that he sucked on her tingling flesh. She started to pant as she began to come, growing more and more anxious until the pleasure washed over her from head to toe.

Kouen rose up on his knees in front of her, reaching back to pick up his cup. He took a small sip before he offered it to her. She took it after sitting up and drank the rest of it.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered breathlessly.

"Do you want to continue?"

She nodded. How could she not? That was different and exciting. If things continued in that manner, she could enjoy the actual sex, or at least she hoped that she could.

Kouen prepared her for a long time before he pushed inside of her. It wasn't quite as horrible as the first time, though it was still a bit uncomfortable. She could kiss him and that distracted her enough from the rumbling of thunder outside and the hint of left over pain between them. The end of their encounter was different.

As he silenced her moans with a deep kiss, his tongue tangled up with hers, and his shaft thrusting inside her slow but hard, she only felt pleasure. The friction between their joined bodies, the weight of him, which had seemed so suffocating before was welcoming to her now, and his kiss made all the difference. She couldn't recall the little aches. They were in the past, foreign to her.

Asta arched into him and he wrapped his arms around her slim waist, thrusting faster. The change in tempo surprised her because of how quickly the heat pooled in her belly, spreading across her body until Kouen wrung every drop of pleasure from her. He finished shortly after she did and lied down beside her, a coat of perspiration visible over his gloriously muscled body.

Kouen reached over on his side and draped a blanket over them, turning on his shoulder to face her. She felt his fingers brush lightly against the side of her curled body before he pulled the fur coverlet up over her arm. She was exhausted.

The embers had gone out and the tent had grown cold. There was a single candle burning, so the light was dim. The rain had slowed and the thunder was more spread apart giving Asta the opportunity to sleep.

She slept soundly through the night.

{ iv }

Asta delivered her bow to Egil the following morning. She watched him as he looked at it from various angles, particularly the ends where the bowstring was hooked.

"Did this bow take any significant damage before you used it?" asked Egil.

"It's a beautiful bow," she said. "I was taken by its beauty and the great craftsmanship that I failed to inspect it as Werner taught me growing up. Had I done so, I would've caught on to the fact that the string nock was built a little weaker resulting in the snapping of the bowstring after a few uses."

Egil raised his steely gaze to meet hers, lowering the bow down onto his workstation. "Have I done something to upset you, my queen?"

"Have you?" she asked, staring at him firmly. She noticed his hand move close to a cutting knife on the table. "Will you?"

His hand fisted. "I would not dream of it, my queen."

"There's no need for you to act so finicky," said Asta, smiling at him. "Leave that to me. I'm the one in over my head."

She laughed.

He shook his head. "You are quite poised, my queen, I would not think that you were ever finicky."

Asta was starting to understand what drew her to him. This man inspired confidence in others. People trusted him for being a kind-faced man with a clean record and years of an unblemished personality. He was a skillful worker and came down with her father to aid in his conquest by providing weapons.

Egil was surrounded by broken weapons. They were still being delivered to him by soldiers that claimed they had broken in the midst of battle, forcing them to resort to stealing the weapons from their enemy's corpses. Every great blacksmith came upon a mistake or two; the materials they were working with were mostly to blame. Egil worked tirelessly to supply the camp with weapons. To do so, he had brought on four other blacksmiths and five apprentices that worked in different stations around the stretch of ground that their battle camp covered. One apprentice stayed at his side constantly, his eldest son Stigr, to help him personally. These blacksmiths and apprentices stayed out of sight for the most part, but they were working out of the same supply tent—the one where Nikias was kept. All of them had access to it.

She smiled at him. "If you are in need of more blacksmiths, please tell me, I am sure we can provide them for you."

"We can handle this much at the very least," he told her, unconsciously gesturing to the broken weapons.

"Is that all of the defective weapons or are there more in every station?" she asked curiously.

"They have all been gathered here. I asked my blacksmiths to focus on the creation of more weapons and leave the repairs to me. I'll have a better bow for you in no time, your majesty."

"I'm fine with that one. You don't need to make another. I quite liked this one."

"I do apologize for the poor craftsmanship."

"It didn't kill me, so it isn't a problem at all," she replied, making light of the situation.

"Asta!"

She turned away from the anxious Egil and saw Melik waving at her from the distance. She excused herself with Egil and walked up to join Melik, who was excited about being shown around the camp.

Asta walked with Melik for hours, even stopped to have lunch with him and Baron. They teased her mercilessly about Kouen after Aghi accidentally let them know that she had a crush on her husband. Carina was crying with laughter in reaction to the stunned silence that followed the confession.

Baron smacked her back. "But that's a good thing, isn't it?"

"No," Asta protested, "because we agreed to being joined in a loveless marriage for the rest of our lives for the benefit of our countries. If I develop actual feelings, it's going to be awful to know that it will probably always remain one-sided."

"Well, you weren't there when I told the prince you had a gift," said Melik smugly. "His eyes were sparkling with interest."

"No doubt your show of leadership here impressed him as well," added Baron.

Asta's face heated. "Stop teasing me!"

Melik put his hand on her shoulder. "What we're saying is that you shouldn't be worried. You being you is all you'll ever need to charm any man. Your husband is most definitely interested in you."

"In the idea that I possess a gift," she corrected.

"Any relationship just needs a little bit of interest to set its foundation," said Baron.

"However, a piece of advice, you are going through a transitional phase, so you must be strong. Seek to stand by that which makes you feel stronger. Fall in love if that gives you strength," said Melik. "We are your pillars if you need us. Teasing aside, Kouen is a great asset to you and you are the same to him. This marriage of yours has one purpose, for you both to use it to your advantage. Nevertheless, don't let that stop you from trusting your heart and the images you see."

"Thank you."

Asta left the group as the sky transitioned from day to night and went to Nikias' tent in the company of Aghi and Carina. She walked inside the heavily guarded tent, learning from the posted guards that an attempt against his life had been made last night and that they were going to move him elsewhere when the new location was given to him by their overseeing commander.

Nikias' feet were caked in mud, his hair was damp and slicked back away from his face, and her clothes were wrinkled from a tussle. He cast one look at her and snarled.

"Have you come to kill me?" asked Nikias.

"No. I've come to talk if you'll have me."

"You are wasting your breath. I will not be swayed by the trash you spew."

"Truly, Nikias, I only want to be in your company," said Asta, looking around for any low crates. She found one to sit on where there was enough distance between them to allow him some comfort. She had an obligation to her people to find Nikias' connection to the camp, but she felt that she had a responsibility to Nikias alone as well. "We don't have to speak. I just want to be here."

Nikias turned his face away, determined to ignore her, and she sat there patiently in silence.

He said nothing. He found an area to focus his gaze and stared at it for the while that she was present. There was rainfall again that evening coupled with the sound of his soft breathing. Asta felt a chill and noticed him shivering, fighting futilely against doing so visibly, but the atmosphere was cool, much too cold for someone that had spent the night in shackles and the thin, dirty clothes in which he had been captured.

"If I took your shackles, would you run?" she asked.

Nikias looked up at her. "You would be stupid to try."

"Where will you go?"

"This is my kingdom and I know it better than you."

Asta stood up and walked to the entrance of the tent. She peered outside. "Guard."

"Yes, your majesty?"

"I'm taking Nikias with me, help me."

The male guard nodded. "Yes."

Asta wasn't certain where she would take Nikias until they were halfway to where the Hassahan troops had set up, their navy blue tents seemed to wrap around the Kou Empire and Ione's camp. It wasn't difficult to locate Baron, who took one look at her, the guard, and Nikias, and directed them into a tent where Melik was comfortably longing atop several pillows with a book in his hand.

Melik saw them, put his book down, and sat up.

Asta turned to the guard, asked for the keys to Nikias' chains, and told him to inform his commanding officer that she had turned over responsibility of Nikias to Melik and Baron. He didn't question her. He didn't even mention Kouen. Soldiers from the Kou Empire weren't the sort to ask whether she was sure or not, though that didn't mean that Kouen wouldn't know about her actions as soon as this guard returned to his post.

She left the keys to Nikias' shackles to Baron. "Take care of him."

"I don't need your pity!" snapped Nikias.

Melik got out of his seat and took Nikias' by the jaw. "Asta forgave your vile treatment, we will as well, but do not think for an instant that we pity you when you dug your own grave."

Nikias struggled against Melik's hold. "Unhand me!"

"I'll have someone prepare a bath," said Baron, exiting the tent.

"I should go back to Kouen. I'll leave Nikias to you."

{ v }

Asta visited Nikias the following morning while Melik went to meet with Kouen about dealing with Nohr. It was common knowledge among the next generation of rulers that the only person capable of stopping Ilya the Dark Knight from staying true to his reputation was Melik. She assured Kouen that so long as Melik was on their side that he would have no trouble acquiring another country for the Kou Empire. He wasn't quite as convinced. She could see it in his expression or lack thereof, that he found it hard to believe they could resolve the matter without another war.

Nikias was bathed, dressed in clothes offered to him by the Buhari brothers, and seated reading the same book Melik had been enjoying when she entrusted his care to Hassah. Kouen had asked her about it, but didn't demand that she return him to the custody of his men. He only asked her to make him talk if he knew secrets that they should be aware of, which she promised to do.

He wore his hair pushed back neatly out of his pale, handsome face. He didn't acknowledge her presence upon entry. She saw a single shackle attached to his left ankle, the link of chains was long and stabbed into the ground with a nail by the corner of the circular tent. He gave off a calmer air. With the conditions of his imprisonment bettering, it appeared that he had as well.

When Asta sat down, she made sure there was distance between them. She'd prefer that he keep his secrets so that he could have at least one thing to hold onto, but she needed to know them. Ultimately, they were valuable to her cause. There were remaining links in her camp and she suspected one, but did not have the proof. Nikias would have to supply that even if he didn't spell out the names of all his and Freja's accomplices. She didn't care.

He wouldn't tell her anything if he thought he felt pressured. She wasn't going to force him.

"Eris looked beautiful in her white dress and diamond crown."

Nikias raised his eyes from the book that he pretended to read and met her gaze with confusion in his eyes.

"She turned twelve the day my father's ship arrived to invade Corrin."

She saw his eyes, so brilliantly blue in the muted candlelight that filled the tent, become glassy with tears.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, whispering.

"You were dancing with her."

"Asta, stop."

Asta watched a single tear roll down his right cheek.

He remembered her. The eldest of his younger sisters, the rambunctious Eris, who possessed more fire in her than a pit filled with it. She had behaved for months to ensure her twelfth birthday's celebration was as she envisioned it because her mother had threatened there wouldn't be one if she continued her path of destruction around the castle. She had played quietly and had attended all of her lessons with every one of her tutors, even the ones she hated. She had not caused trouble for anyone, especially not her mother, and she had been given the party of her dreams.

"She behaved for three whole months," continued Asta, seeing the memories running through his head as if they were filtering through hers. The weight on her chest was heavy, almost too much for her to bear. "It was the first time she was ever afraid that Theodora would really cancel her birthday and she didn't want to risk it."

"Stop it." Nikias covered his face, shaking his head. "Stop this. I don't want to hear this. Your father ravaged our country and you destroyed it."

"You never finished your dance with Eris. You promised her. She was upset believing you would ask Agnes first, but you went to her, bowed to her, and asked for the first dance. Her face was—"

He threw the book across the tent and it hit the tarp behind her, bouncing off and landing open to her left. It started her.

Nikias was sobbing into his hands. "Stop it!"

Asta left her seat and made a beeline to him. She knelt down in front of him and reached to take his hands from his face, but he resisted, breaking away from her grasp.

"Don't touch me!"

She pulled her hands away. "Nikias, you believed in me before, back in the Byzen Festival, you supported me when I feared that I was wrong about Queen Aquila, so believe in me now. Believe in me when I say that I don't mean you any harm."

"You cannot use my sisters against me! You can't! That's cheating! You're cheating! You can't use your gift against me, it isn't fair."

"I can find them," she told him. "If I was cursed with a gift, if this isn't my mind abandoning me, I can find them. If I could find a way to control it—if I could decide what I see and explore, I could find them. I can bring them back to you."

"Do not give me hope. Please."

"Hope is all I can give you." She reached forward to hug him and he clung to her, sobbing into her shoulder.

That night, she went to sleep without answers to Kouen's questions and a heavy heart. She continued to dream of twirling white figures and disintegrating crowns. She woke up several times throughout the night in a cold sweat. She whispered an apology each time she did, her heart hammering in her head.

{ vi }

Asta woke up from a dream of snowdrops sprouting from a field of ashes. In it, the figure clad in white rising from a throne flanked by honed men handed her Theodora's crown and it turned to ash in her hands.

"We have been patient enough with Nikias," Kouen told her that morning as he dressed. "You cannot ignore his silence. He is protecting our enemies and we cannot move on with them still in our midst."

Asta moved in front of him. "It is all he has. Keeping those secrets guarantee his life. There are enemies in our camp, yes, and we can rule out the Kou Empire and Hassah. If you must go, leave the Ionian soldiers behind."

Kouen said nothing in response, only finished dressing. He drank the tea that Hua had prepared them. More soldiers from the Kou Empire were disembarking to occupy Corrin fully. The encampment made for the battle was in the middle of being uprooted and moved to the capital where Kouen would try to restore some sense of normalcy to the country. There was a lot of work to be done and it was true, enough time had been wasted on Nikias' silence.

At the entrance of the tent, Kouen turned to her and said, "You cannot save everyone."

"I'm not going to give up on him. I can't."

"Asta, you have done enough. You either have him speak or he will be made to do so."

"But I can save him. I have to be able to. I cannot abandon him. I won't."

"If you continue down this futile path, you will be hurt." With that final warning, he exited.

Asta hurried into a change of clothes and ran off to the Hassahan camp where she bumped into Stigr on his way across the dividing road between theirs and the Kou Empire's camp. He bowed deeply, greeting her, before he hurried off to his father's workstation.

She returned to Nikias and sat down with him, though she carried the burden of Kouen's words on her shoulders. She didn't let any of it register in her expression as she started to tell him a story, one of the many on which she had grown up with.

During that long afternoon, Nikias smiled at her and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she couldn't give up on him. She wouldn't.

But every night she dreamed and she was afraid. She feared the meaning of taking Theodora's crown in her hands and the reason as to why it fell apart with the brush of her fingertips. She learned why she saw figures dancing in her castle. She found the path that they represented and it became clear to her. She saw Eris and Nikias twirling in a beautiful hall in celebration of her birthday. Werner confirmed that it was true.

Staring at Nikias' face, she was afraid, more and more so each day.

Perhaps, she understood the reason as to why it made her feel so desperate inside, but she wanted to remain in denial because she had not yet given up on hope.

{ vii }

Kouen went to take Nikias away from her, attempted to return him into his custody, but she arrived in the hopes of intervening, having heard about it from Stigr, who caught sight of her husband heading to the Hassahan camp.

She stood between his soldiers and the tent where Nikias' was kept. He asked her nicely once to step out of the way, but she stood her ground. He didn't ask her a thing the second time, he walked to her and grabbed her firmly by the waist, and moved her out of the way.

Melik and Baron stood by, each mouthing an apology to her. She understood why they said nothing. Kouen was right. They were wasting valuable time not learning what needed to be known from Nikias. Nohr would be upon them soon.

Asta didn't struggle in Kouen's arms. She buried her face in his chest, fisting her hands over his clothes, until he released her.

Nikias was removed from inside the tent, Kouen released her, and she took another step back.

"He won't talk."

"Then he will die our enemy."

She refused to speak to Kouen from that day on and he banned her from seeing Nikias for two entire days. Asta moved into Hua's tent and cried the night away inconsolably. Hua tried her best to make her happy, to show her even the slightest hint of a silver lining, but nothing worked. She cried because crying was the only thing she could do in this painful situation. She failed to protect Nikias and he would be tortured as a result.

She wished she could have at least apologized to him for being unable to protect him from further pain. He suffered enough. He didn't need anymore. He needed peace and quiet. He required the love and security of his people.

They had already moved to Atros when Asta had gained the opportunity to see Nikias again. She wasn't speaking to Kouen, though she was advised to reconsider since she was given permission to see Nikias. She planned to stay angry with him until he realized what a stupid mistake he had made. So, she found it odd that she was even allowed to visit given the fact that Kouen had to approve who went in to see him.

The room was stark and small. Nikias sat up against the wall, his wrists and ankles chained. His body roughened up, beaten and bruised from interviews carried out by Nero of Hassah. He was brutal with the Silver Prince. He left him one black eye, still swollen from the damage, and several contusions around his face and chest. She felt sick looking at him. The closer she approached him, the better she was able to assess the damage and it pained her to do so. She couldn't forgive it.

It was an unnecessary method.

"Nikias, I'm—"

"How did you imagine life at Johan Ek's side?" asked Nikias, interrupting her.

"What?"

"It did not resemble this," he continued. "You never imagined you would be in this position. You were willing to give up your crown for a man. You didn't care about abandoning your people. That disappointed them when they learned. There are people who have forgotten their love for you."

She approached him, sitting close to him. "I was blinded by my affection for him, yes," said Asta, "and I regret making the choice that I did when I accepted to elope with Johan. I was being selfish."

"Is that what you are doing now?" he asked. "Are you making up for the mistake you made?"

"I am trying to do what is best for the Byzen Cluster."

"Do you think Ren Kouen is a good man?"

"He is good to me," she responded, though angry as she was with him, he had given her several days to get him the list of names that he wanted. She failed and it resulted in Nikias' tortured imprisonment. She viewed his current condition as her fault. If she had found a way to hurry the process along, they could've avoided this.

"I will stand beside you," said Nikias, raising his eyes to meet with hers pleadingly. "So, please, make them stop hurting me."

Asta shed a tear, nodding, and watched a black trail slip through the corner of Nikias' mouth. Her face twisted with concern and her heart squeezed. He collapsed forward, falling into her arms and hacked up black blood onto her dress. She took him firmly by the shoulders, raising him.

"Nikias."

His body was convulsing, her was gurgling painfully, his body locked—stiff as a board. Her eyes grew wide with horror as she held him tight; she turned toward the door, and shouted, "Baron!"

She heard him chocking and saw the black liquid spill from his mouth, rising and bubbling. She held him as she screamed. She cried while she rocked his body back and forth, and between shouts for Baron, she assured him that everything would be okay. But she knew. Her heart was wound tight and ready to explode, she felt the pain inflicted upon the squeezed appendage so severely that her desperation took hold of her. She couldn't lie to him.

Not anymore.

His eyes rolled back, the black liquid was pouring out of his nose and ears, and she was begging for forgiveness. "Nikias, I'm so sorry."

Her voice was the meekest of whispers. Again and again. She spoke the words. Again and again.

Baron rushed to her side as the spasms stopped and Nikias' body lay motionless, pressed against hers. He knelt down beside them, but at a glimpse, he knew that nothing could be done. He arrived late.

Nikias was dead.