For the next several days, Haven doted on me with the same care and dedication to small detail that I gave my little apple sapling. I could relax into the familiarity of the routine and let it soothe the ragged edges of my thoughts, avoiding Shira all the while. The Winter Palace was large enough that I could stay out of sight, but small enough that I could still keep tabs. La’an was her shadow now that Erelim’s cult moved, which kept her safe and sound without my interference. At least, all of that was what I told myself.


    My unhappiness gnawed at the edges of my fragile peace, revealing it in truth as just another paper mask. Every time I tried to bury it, it merely clawed out of its own grave, nowhere near done with me.


    “Is this actually important or did you just find a new way to make him squirm?” I asked, trailing after Vex as she trotted down to the bars.


    “I think you’ll want to hear it, my lady.” Her pointed, prehensile tongue lolling eagerly, there was something almost like an excited puppy about the wight’s demeanor, which could only mean unpleasant things lay ahead. Not unpleasant for me, necessarily, but certainly gruesome nonetheless.


    To my surprise, the assassin of Erelim seated in a corner of his stone cell with its deep-seated bars was apparently unmolested. A few bruises to his face from an escape attempt, but considering what evils Vex was capable of, he was practically a spring daisy. The place was clean, though cold, designed to hold prisoners as pleasantly as possible while still keeping firmly fixed in the prisoner’s mind that it was potentially their final destination. There was no outside light, no place to pass messages, only the bare stone and what its inhabitant’s imagination could conjure. Powerful wards of both silence and magic suppression were laid into the stones all around, deceptive in their purpose: we could hear him, but he could not hear us unless we wished it.


    The assassin himself looked a hard enough case that I found Vex’s charming excitement rather confusing. He was almost to his middle-years with a touch of salt grey to his temples, covered in the scars of a warrior despite a rogue’s sinuous grace. He didn’t look pleased as Vex approached the bars, his blank expression transmuting to an actual irritation. “What do you want, monster?” he snapped.


    Given he’d spent a week with Vex as a constant presence, literally chattering at him all through the night and day about horrors few could comprehend, I wasn’t surprised that she was finally getting to him. Torture was Heca’s domain, but aggravation was where my second truly hit her stride. I stayed out of sight in the shadows. There was enough of a point to his ears that he might know someone was nearby even through the gloom, but I chose my hiding spot strategically: to hear rather than to see.


    “Why, to tell you we have your accomplice, of course!” Vex’s sheer glee was hard to even quantify, but there was an undertone to it that spoke of peeling skin and ripping flesh. Her eyes gleamed hungrily in the torchlight. “She was most helpful in providing the names and locations of your associates.”


    The man scoffed. “Lies.”


    “Shall we count them off?” Vex’s sing-song tone was jarringly at odds with her ravenous nature. “First there were the two little morsels who killed Luka with vaendal: Meiis and Etelar, from the cloister near Suzail. But to do that, they needed a little help from a local, didn’t they, Arthan?”


    The transformation those names had on the man was almost magical. He went from disbelief to shock to anger in a three-second span. “Keep their names out of your mouth, creature! You speak of the honored dead!”


    “I speak of wriggling little meals for worms. Happy, happy, fortunate worms,” Vex said, every word calculated to catch under his skin like a splinter. “Then there’s your partner, Mernos, who Her Ladyship gutted like a miserable cavefish in the gardens, where you sent him looking for something special. And who told you where to look? The same one who told us where to find you! Isn’t it fun?” She clapped her hands together as if delighted. “You should have known better than to trust Luka’s own inner circle. Even our rats know not to get caught in the trap. But you’re not our rat, are you? Just a wriggly little morsel destined for hungry jaws now that my lady knows Greysa has been letting you in on little secrets.”


    I knew Vex was winding him up for a reason. She never went through such performances without one. I heard the confirmation of what Melody’s source had hinted in the choked sound he made at Greysa’s name. “That bitch sold us out?” he demanded.


    “For a mouthful of grave dirt!” Vex chirped, black eyes still agleam with hunger. “She told the Executioner everything for His Majesty’s clemency. His Majesty was very grateful, wasn’t he, Greysa?”


    I knew my role when I heard it, amused by Vex’s little farce though I was. I let out a low, creaking moan in imitation of the mindless undead I had come to know so well, shifting in the shadows just enough that he knew someone was there without being able to see into the darkness.


    The assassin lunged through the bars at Vex in anger, one of probably the more stupid things he could have done. She caught him effortlessly by the wrist and yanked, slamming his body into the bars. He grunted in pain and I heard her cluck her tongue. “You know, I wasn’t really sure that the Spymaster was right until just now, but thank you,” Vex said. Now I could hear the hunger in her voice, ragged and relentless. “And now that we know everything there is to know about her and you and them, my lady has no need for you any more.”


    She was about to bite down into his arm when the panic really hit him. It came, as it often did, with bravado. “Eat me, creature, and you’ll burn in the lowest pits of hell when what is coming is through with you!”


    Vex cocked her head like an attentive hound. “Is that so, morsel?”


    “Erelim and Ishal have sent their people a vision of the end of the Eternal Kingdom,” he said, talking faster and faster as he progressed. “It will sweep through this place with cleansing fire that not even the Lich-God can quench. It will unmake everything here, you included.”


    “His Majesty has no need to put out fires,” Vex said thoughtfully. “That’s what my lady does.”


    He laughed, though the sound was high and distorted with anxiety.


    Vex pulled, wrenching his arm in an exquisite sort of agony. He screamed for a moment, but then she let the tension lapse slightly. “What’s so funny, morsel? Share a little joke with me.”


    “Already she burns with its fire in her veins. Only falling on her own blade will quench it,” he said frantically, hoarse with hysteria.


    Vex let out the croak that was closest to a laugh, but I did not, frozen at the thought of Shira’s vision. “I like your jokes, morsel,” the wight said before slowly beginning to twist his arm, probably intending to pull it off. “Tell me another.” Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    “She is the end of your evil, not us!” the man screamed. “There are no more Chosen Ones!”


    “Vex, that is enough,” I said coldly.


    She dropped him immediately as I advanced out of the shadows, looking chastised by my curt tone. The man started to laugh, hints of hysterics bleeding through. Red-rimmed eyes betrayed the fact that he hadn’t slept since Vex caught him, no doubt by her design. “I should have known,” he croaked. “A mad wight with a cheap parlor trick.”


    “Vex, give him your sword,” I said bluntly, already picking up the keyring for the cell. I unlocked the door and opened it, then added the keyring to my belt with a quick, but steadfast knot.


    “Yes, my lady,” Vex said, drawing her sword. She slid it in across the stones, landing with the hilt towards the assassin. “Melody will be displeased with you.”


    “How thoughtful of her.” I stepped into the cell and shut the door behind me. I wasn’t wearing armor, but I drew Woe. “You serve a god of righteous warriors, son of Erelim. Fight or be devoured by the mad wight with cheap parlor tricks. Whether your prophecy is right or your arm is strong and quick, the King in Black is destroyed. I hold the key to your cage.”


    “I am in no condition to fight,” the man croaked even as he lifted Vex’s sword.


    My lip curled. “At least you will have your chance and go to your god as a warrior worthy of his afterlife.”


    It was about as elegant as I was expecting: a simple, straight charge fueled by rage, panic, and desperation. I stepped off line with a pivot, bringing my sword in a wicked arc that severed his head from his shoulders in one powerful blow. I flicked most of his blood off my blade and then dried the rest on the cloth of his shirt. “Disappointing.”


    “Why did you give him the chance, my lady?” Vex said as I opened the door again.


    “To see what his word was worth. You will tell no one what he said about me,” I said coolly. “Not La’an, not Haven, not Heca, not even Melody. Not a single soul. And if the King in Black inquires, you will humbly request that He tender that request to His Beloved. Am I understood?”


    Vex nodded, focused on me with something almost approaching concern. “But it’s not true, my lady.”


    “Of course not, but even lies are useful to the leeches,” I said. “Consume the body. Leave no piece remaining.” I’d long ago learned that wights had certain advantages when I wanted to unanchor a spirit without consecration. “I will be in my study if you require me.”


    I felt numb walking back up the stairs. It was obviously ludicrous madness, but what if it was true? What if I was the undoing of everything we had worked so hard to create? Every time I closed my eyes, I was back in the moment of the vision with Shira, looking up into wildflower blue. By the time I was halfway to my chambers, the numbness of it all was wearing off, replaced by cold fury. I had broken every prophecy that came my way and this one would be no different.


    I attuned to Woe’s weight on my hip, not certain of what to do next. It depended on what the gods were implying. If it was Shira, that was a matter easily solved. I could harden my heart enough, surely. I had burned a civilization for Him, what was one more priestess of Ishal given over to flame?


    But what if it wasn’t her? What if it was something else? A poison, a spell, a curse from Ishal, my own paranoia or disillusionment?


    I couldn’t afford to go to Melody for advice, not with her serving as His spymaster. Whatever her intentions, that put her too close to powers that would crush Shira on the very notion that it might be something to do with the priestess. “Gods damn it,” I hissed under my breath as I unbelted Woe, stepping into my study.


    Melody was there waiting for me, a small tea tray already prepared. I raised an eyebrow. “You made yourself comfortable. I assume you are here about my prisoner.”


    My friend looked up, brow creasing in concern. “Aleyr, you sound angry. I hope borrowing Vex didn’t cause offense.”


    I forced myself to soften and thaw. As dangerous as any disclosure would be, I could still trust Melody to have my best interests at heart, at least for now. “Headache.”


    “I heard Shira rang your bell,” Melody said sympathetically, waiting for me to have a seat across the desk from her. “I thought willow’s bark tea would be in order, with Haven’s permission.”


    “Did he tell you?” I asked, easing myself down into my favorite chair and leaning Woe against the wall beside me.


    “No, she did. She seemed concerned that she had angered you and mentioned she hadn’t seen you much of late,” Melody said. It was her habit to catalogue every little bit of information, so I would need to go very carefully.


    “She worries too much,” I said harshly. “You all do.”


    “Perhaps if you gave us less to worry about, we would not.”


    I glared across the table at her. “And how am I to take that?”


    “Aleyr, you seem more distant and bitter than usual lately. I worry, Haven worries, even His Majesty has commented on your absence at court.”


    “Perhaps He should have considered missing His window dressing before making this mess with Erelim into my problem,” I said sourly, picking up a cup of tea. “I have had my hands rather too full to be attending court. Also, Vex wrangled confirmation from my unwanted guest that Greysa was, in fact, the one who provided them with local help.”


    “How is Arthan?” Melody asked, as if following up on an old friend. She knew better than to challenge me directly when I was in a mood like this.


    “Dead.” I sipped the tea carefully, letting it roll across my palate. Willow’s bark was bitter to begin with, but that was all it was. I had learned over centuries to identify more poisons and drugs by taste than was probably healthy.


    “Was that really necessary?” Melody said, looking slightly dismayed.


    “Vex was hungry,” I muttered darkly, turning away from her to look out the narrow window. It gazed in the direction of the Alabaster Spire at the center of Sanctum. “Given he had nothing more to say than panicked ravings, I expect I was doing him a favor. Where is Greysa, anyway?”


    “Experiencing Heca’s attentions to learn if there are any other parts of the cult still extant in Sanctum. You were right to pick Hallen. She tried to turn him and he played the part admirably. His Majesty is…satisfied.”


    That makes one of us. I sighed, picking at the edge of the teacup’s cracked lip with my thumbnail. This set was my favorite, a little gift from Teth when we were both much younger and on much better terms. It had come a long way from Suzail, but she’d taken it as a sort of prize in battle and gifted it to me some years later after I’d expressed fondness for the delicate roses painted on the porcelain. Since then, it had become something of a memento of days gone by, of a time when my isolation hadn’t choked me to gasping. “Has he awarded Hallen’s troops back?”


    “His Majesty indicated that was up to your discretion. A public ceremony is probably in order if this is the case.”


    I almost spit on the floor in distaste. Hallen was a solid general, but I would have rather eaten my armor than been part of a public pageantry. It was what the people of Sanctum expected, unfortunately. I couldn’t hide away in the Winter Palace forever, whatever my wishes: they needed a reminder that their King’s rule was alive and well.


    But could I still claim to be that?


    I have broken every other prophecy. I can break this one too.