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Chapter Text

Osha had never thought of what it was like to be courted for hours on end. At first, she had been amused, the flat and somehow desperate flattery a source of entertainment, but as time went on, her interest burned like the wick of a candle. Boredom and fatigue blended their faces, their voices, the colors of their banners and the names of their kingdoms. They littered the throne room, crowding the sides of the deep blue rug that had led them to her from the imposing door, and vibrated with enmity every time a new suitor walked in.

Now she understood why Mae had practically begged for her to take her place today (aside from the fact that she was down with a terrible cold). To do this as often as she did… It felt more like it was meant to torture her than to make her look forward to ruling Brendok in the future.

Osha knew she wouldn’t stay in Brendok. If the council had already agreed on the successor for the throne, it seemed unlikely that she would stay, even when her sister insisted on it. Osha would have a place in a different court, in a different realm, away from the memories she had of their mothers, away from their tutor Sol and from her sister who would soon have far more pressing matters to consider than her twin. For example, which one of these overly theatrical and conceited men would be her husband and father to the future queen of Brendok.

But Osha wasn’t scared of the idea of leaving. In fact, she had always dreamt of the day she would see new landscapes and customs. It was half the reason why she didn’t envy her sister; in theory, Mae was already deep-rooted in this place whereas Osha was free.

Lost in thought, she failed to take notice of the new contender, his presence of a force so big that obfuscated all the others in the room. The mood withered like a dense cloud had seized the sun from the sky, urging the staff to light up the candles scattered across the wide space. The chatter quieted down to give place to the hurried steps of the maids, some of the courters daring not to comment on the individual approaching Osha.

Something about the way he looked at her made her tense on her sister's throne, as she could tell he was seeing her. Not Mae but Osha herself. The glint in his eyes when she focused on him did not escape her, who watched as prey would watch a predator. That was how she felt before this man. A weakling in her own palace.

He paraded a figure that only a few could compete with, massive in both height and width but not to the point that he would stand out in a group. It did not help that he wore loose clothes, his build enhanced by the black cloak cascading to the ground where it pooled while he sustained his bow.

"You may rise." The instruction made Osha realize she had been ogling, but she couldn’t help it. Everything about this man felt like a breeze of fresh air after hours of monotony. She observed how he rose with the agility of a cat, each movement pondered in their entirety. Only a few strands of hair escaped the ties that held it away from his rather handsome face on which a stubble surrounded his full lips. "You may speak."

"Your Highness, I am honored for the chance to stand here, beyond your beauty, representing my people. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Qimir. I came from the Rogue Lands-" The guards levelled their weapons at him whose hands raised in surrender. ‘I mean no harm.’ He assured, gaze pointed at Osha who gripped the armrests as she tried her best to mask her own shock. If such hostility had surprised him, he made a point to keep it to himself. But something about his demeanor told her he was expecting this sour welcome.

"What makes you think you are welcome here?" Sol raged from behind Osha, his voice echoing across the wide room. She could sense him inching closer to her, hand tight around the hilt of his own weapon.

"I am of age to present myself as a suitor for your princess. I failed to notice any specific limitations in the invitation you sent across the different kingdoms, sire." He reached for a pocket underneath his cloak, bringing the rest of the contenders to step back, even if a handful of them appeared brave enough to withdraw their swords from their scabbards.

The collective unease seemed to boost his mood - further proof that the Rogues relished the fear they instigated in others. When he pulled his hand back to the light, he presented a letter carrying in it the royal seal of Brendok. Oh, Osha thought, someone is going to be kicked out of the palace today.

"Can we restart this introduction?" Qimir asked, knowing they had no valid reason to send him away before he could at least make himself known to Mae (even though it was Osha standing in her place in that moment). Such a waste of a one in a lifetime opportunity, Osha lamented.

"Very well. Proceed." Sol munched his words, clear about his disapproval.

"Your Highness, the Rogue Lands have witnessed a strange and sudden plague. It took their lord and lady along with countless innocents. With their unexpected deaths, I was left with the weight of the past, present and future upon my shoulders and I’ve come to your door to ask for an agreement. Alone, I may as well proclaim the end of my kingdom but, you see, I cannot simply abandon it. It is my home, it is my duty and if it, one day, sinks, I will have to sink with it.’

‘A plague? What kind of plague?’ Another advisor spoke from behind Osha, the old woman retreating with a handkerchief over her face. It was enough for the rest of the individuals to react, frightened by the possibility of having been contaminated with the same disease.

‘We have witnessed a growing number of demons taking over our towns. We believe they have been in contact with demonic energy, but we cannot disclose its source for we do not know it either.’ Osha couldn’t say for sure if she had really seen it or if it had been her imagination, but she could swear Qimir had glanced at Sol, his gaze grave with an unspoken accusation. He took a step forward, hoping to make his pleas clearer. ‘Your Highness, it is known the aptitude of your army when it comes to upholding walls around your territory..." Sol grunted underneath the thundering hum that erupted from the audience.

Osha would've smiled at the teasing if the situation were any different; Qimir had, after all, ventured out into the heart of a queendom his own land had been ostracized by and reminded them of it without stuttering. Brendok's army was, in fact, ruthless. Osha remembered every detail of the war against the Rogue Lands. The bloody battles ended only when Brendok raised a wall between the two, obdurate with its policies regarding anyone coming from the other side of the barrier. If Qimir was standing before them now, it was because of someone else's mistake of sending him an invitation.

He had to raise his voice to make himself heard over the tumult his remark sparked. "… If the Rogue Lands happen to fall, these demons will target Brendok next."

"What are you implying here?" Sol asked, wariness making him blind and deaf to the warning issued by Qimir. "What is there to fear?"

Osha noticed the spraining muscle on the contender's face. "Sire, I beg your pardon but I do not believe you are seeing the seriousness of this issue. They will not stop at Rogue Lands. They will come for Brendok, like they will come for the other lands." He turned to the opposition, knowing that if he acknowledged them, his word would be taken for what it was. An emergency. "All I ask is a contingent strong enough to join my own troops to slay these demons and make sense of this plague..."

"This, what we are doing here, is not a warfare meeting, Lord Qimir.’ The woman from before intervened. ‘If you ask only of a contingent, I advise you to-"

‘I am aware and as I have said before, I am of age to present myself as a suitor for your princess. As the newly appointed lord of the Rogue Lands, I am in need of a wife, just as much as I am in need of your help.’ Qimir looked at Osha as the rest of the contenders opposed his proposition, threatening the flimsy peace sustained within those walls.

This man’s purpose in that room couldn’t be any clearer and he had been nothing but honest with himself and others. His kingdom was dying, and he needed all the help he could get in stopping it. By taking Mae's hand, he would earn a contingent of the best trained soldiers and he would present a future to his lineage. His people had no reason not to venerate him.

But wouldn’t it mean that Mae would have to leave Brendok? Wouldn’t it clash with what the council had agreed on? And, if Osha had understood his plan, it would strap both lands in a treaty that would prevent any confrontation. They would have to work together, which destroyed the purpose served by the walls between them.

And what would be of Osha? Would she be expected to take the reins of her sister’s queendom? The picture presented to her right there and then left her nauseous.

"So let us see if we understand your proposal. The Rogue Lands win an army and one of our princesses. You'll be able to negotiate with Brendok and other realms because you'll have Mae by your side as a sign of redemption. Brendok will win...’ Sol gestured with his hand in the air, like he couldn’t find a single idea. ‘An imaginary war against imaginary creatures that you swear you have seen."

Osha observed as Qimir's diplomatic composure began to waver, giving away his annoyance. The smile was long gone, and his hands rested upon the hilts of his swords, itchy to show them a palpable threat that would startle them in their privilege. She couldn't share the amusement in the teasing around her at the thought of innocent ones dealing with demons without seeing any of the neighboring states giving a single care about them. If these demons were indeed real – and she had no reasons to doubt a desperate man who had come knock on a door he so clearly hated - then his people would serve the greatest purpose of saving them all from living the same nightmare.

She didn't know if it was that that drove her to raise her hand or merely the fact that she could feel Qimir’s frustration in her own stomach. The room plunged into a silence where she could hear a pin drop. "It is a proposition, and we thank you for bringing it before us. We thank you for shedding light upon this issue, and I apologize for the triviality with which people are digesting this information but, as you may know, this is our first-time hearing about a herd of demons attacking your borders. We would, however, appreciate it if you shared more of what is known so we can ponder it."

‘My princess, we will see that we schedule a proper meeting with-‘ A counselor asked for his name again as he had already forgotten it.

And before Qimir could mutter a sound, Osha stepped in. ‘Lord Qimir.’

‘Ah, yes. Lord Qimir.’ Whenever they pronounced his name, it was with a hint of scorn, disguised of reverence. Osha was starting to hate them too. ‘It will be easier then to go through this matter as it is no light issue to discuss, even more so when you are meeting for the first time the contenders to the throne and the title of King of Brendok.”

‘But Lord Qimir is also a contender as he has asked for my hand as well as an army.’ Osha added, knowing they were ignoring part of his request on purpose.

‘Yes, my princess, I have not forgotten.’

Sol cleared his throat, clapping once so to bring everybody’s attention to him and end what could lead into an argument. ‘My lords, we are beyond flattered by your presence here. We thank you for your time, patience and for your… proposals.’ Sol nodded at Qimir who reflected the curtsy. ‘Our final decision will be announced once it is made, and I beg you to make the most of your visit. There will be a festival tonight to commemorate the princesses’ birthdays, so you are all invited to join us!’

The men bowed in reverence and sustained their positions as Osha rose from the throne. Before she turned to leave, she looked at Qimir once more, the weight of his fate tugging at her like it was hers to bear. And maybe it was not so wrong of her to assume that it was. Some battles are not meant to be fought by one individual, one people, one land. When the issue threatened the well-being of the world, every land had to lower their shields and egos to use them for a greater cause.

Qimir, as if sensing her attention on him, raised his head in time to meet her gaze without reservations and she knew it then that this man had seen what others had failed to do so. Even Sol and the counselors.

He had seen that the Mae before them was not, in fact, Mae.

‘Come, princess.’ And she broke the staring game she started with this lord from the Rogue Lands that history told her was enemy territory - even if now there were bigger dangers to worry about.

The curtains closed, and the act would have ended if she were alone but, surrounded by her entourage, she had to continue to pretend to be her sister. She could still hear the men regaining their composures and leaving, the dangling of their scabbards and ostentatious armors - that would only meddle in an actual battle - chiming funnily. Like a circus packing their belongings and returning to the homes they had come from.

But soon the debate stirring around her seized her attention.

‘We could give him Osha.’ One suggested and Osha almost hissed at how he had made her feel like an object instead of a person.

‘No.’ Sol said without hesitation.

‘So, who will it be? Mae? But we’ve already trained her for the role of a queen. We cannot simply have her go to the Rogues!”

‘I will have to think about it but sending Osha is out of option.’ Sol turned to leave but then remembered Osha – or Mae – was still standing there and caressed the tip of her chin. ‘You did well. Your mothers would be proud.’ And then he left, followed by the councilors who served him more as a regent than Mae as future queen.

Truth was that, when compared to Qimir’s raw desperation, all the other suitors looked like jesters, strutting around in their best clothes and exhibiting their best tricks in the hope of charming her sister’s heart. Osha did not know what her sister would think of them, perhaps the same she did, but she knew what she had to report. Qimir left a big impression, his face and words engraved in her mind even when she was left in her sister’s quarters by her maids, pushing the door closed behind her back as Mae emerged from the depts of her room in her nightgown, nose red and runny and her eyes swollen with the cold that troubled her.

Mae was a clear reflection of Osha with a twist. Where one was serious about her duty and the legacy left behind by their mothers, the other would trade it all for a chance to see what stood beyond the walls erected around their queendom. Osha loved Brendok and missed both Mother Aniseya and Mother Koril in equal measure, but she had long given up on trying to fight the pull at her heart whenever she laid eyes on the walls, small from a distance but far more imposing than they appeared to be from her balcony.

‘It is quite ridiculous how we always get away with this.’ Mae commented as she reached for a glass of water.

Osha gave her hand with the jar, pouring it for her. ‘It is, indeed. I even spoke this time.’

‘You did?’ Mae asked after sipping her water. Her voice was hoarse, her bruised throat one of the many reasons why Osha had agreed to take her place today. ‘What for?’

Osha hummed. ‘Lord Qimir, from the Rogue Lands, has come to ask for your hand.’ And an army, but she decided to leave it unsaid.

Mae faltered. ‘The audacity! Sol sent him away, did he not?’

‘Why would he?’

Her sister blinked, like she couldn’t fathom her sister’s question. ‘Because he is dangerous. Everything and everyone that comes from that land is dangerous. How did they allow him inside our palace?’

‘Are you aware that we share the same land, that we are only set apart because Sol demanded for a wall to be raised?’ Osha set down the jar as she watched her sister’s face shift from confusion to anger.

‘Are you aware that he demanded that wall to be there because he caught one of their assassins within our grounds on the very same night our mothers were murdered? Even after all the diplomatic effort to appease those rebels, they came in here and took them from us!’ She stepped closer, lowering her voice. ‘They killed our mothers, and we were nothing but children. Do children deserve to be without their mothers?”

Osha knew the source of this intransigent anger; she had too, once, been this frustrated with how life had turned out to be. They had been children but old enough to feel the absence of those two figures who had always been there for them, even to lecture them. But that was where the twins differed, when everything else was an exact copy. Time had revealed itself to be more of a penance to Mae than to Osha whose pain and longing fashioned a wish to see more than Brendok, to be more than just the continuity of a legacy. She had nothing to feel sorry for; if anything she was thankful.

And where Mae saw reason to argue, Osha opted to quit because quarrelling with her sister led her nowhere. She said nothing more about Qimir and his appeal, peeling the crown from her hair and handing it over to the rightful owner. ‘I have served my purpose. I’ll have a bath and retire until dinner time. Expect a visit from Sol.’

‘It means I will have to make a choice soon, won’t I?’ Mae stared at the tiara in her hands, her thumbs caressing the tiny glittering jewels.

‘Duty so requires.’ Osha reminded her before she opened the door and slipped onto the lonely hall, letting a deep breath out once wrapped in silence.

The princess sauntered to her wing of the palace. The colonnade was scorching, every inch of limestone heated under the stubborn sun. The clarity was blinding, forcing her to squint when admiring the scenery. From underneath the shade cast upon her face by her hand, she took in the green of the royal gardens enhanced under the sunrays, every pergola decorated with banners of their house and with the flowers of the season that grew tenfold when closer to the princesses’ birthdays. Long gone were the days when they would run around barefoot catching flowers and throwing petals at each other, giggling until they almost choked in hiccups. When their mothers or Sol would chase them in both apprehension and delight. When times were simpler and the joys endless.

Now they counted joys with the fingers of their hands, and a handful of them would always be unfulfilling – even though Osha knew she should be grateful. After all, the assassin had come for the twins and not their mothers. She was still alive to savor even the smallest of joys, to honor those who took the blade for her and her sister instead.

 A firm hold around her arm sent a jolt up her body and she would have screamed when they yanked her out of sight into the shadows of a corner had she not been hushed by a hand pressed against her mouth. She could feel the hard body against her back, the tight arms around her frame, the other hand authoritative against her stomach when she squirmed, and the labored breaths against her ear that matched her own. She could only stare at a statue across them, a woman carved from a block of marble that exhibited a rose in her bosom, born from the depths of the sculpture through a small crack in her carcass.

‘Don’t scream. I promise you I mean no harm.’

The voice was unmistakable and once he loosened his hold, Osha glided from his embrace and withdrew a dagger from her sleeve, pointing its sharp point at Qimir who didn’t do so much as flinch. ‘Think it through. You are in no territory to commit crimes. The sentence will be-‘

‘Hanging. Decapitation. Yes. I am familiar with how you punish my people within your walls.’ Qimir took a step back, meaning to show her that he meant when said he wasn’t here to ruin the nonexistent diplomatic bonds between them. ‘I have come as lord, not as merely a neighbor you are not fond of.’

Osha hesitated, glimpsing the silhouette of two guards passing right beneath where she stood. All it would take was for her to shout and they would rush up there, have Qimir arrested and then-

She lowered her dagger. ‘Speak, my lord, but I must warn you. You have the wrong princess.’

‘I doubt.’ He stated rather confidently. The tilt of one of her eyebrows was enough to make him lift a corner of his mouth. ‘First of all, you are wearing the same dress you were wearing instances ago when you were pretending to be your sister in her meeting with suitors.’ Osha flushed, embarrassed to have been caught in her own scheme. She would have cursed out loud at her carelessness (because who would forget changing gowns after playing pretend with a bunch of princes and lords?) but she held it in, decided to appear unimpressed.

‘You are quite perspective. Must be tedious.’

‘I would say it comes in handy when your enemy is trying to make a fool out of you. But I digress, princess. I have come here not to tantalize you but to disclose more of the plague.’

‘You were supposed to do that in a scheduled meeting, my lord. What made you think that invading my quarters would help your case?’

He looked around. ‘I did not invade your quarters.’

‘Semantics.’ Osha muttered, knowing that he was right and that she was simply being dramatic.

‘I saw the concern in your eyes. You were the only one listening to me in that room and, if there’s no other valid reason to believe me, take the suffering of my people as one.’ Qimir had lost the small smile she had seen, taken over by his earlier affliction. ‘If there was another way, I wouldn’t be here, beseeching to you.’

 ‘Forgive me but I do not see how I am of use to you. You know I am not my sister so why are you wasting your chances and your time with me? Her room is right down this corridor.’

‘Because your sister will never have me.’

The silence that followed was enough of an answer, but she couldn’t fight the need to say ‘You were eavesdropping. That’s how you know I was not my sister.’

He raised a finger. ‘Yes- No, I mean-’

‘Then you are aware just how unlikely it is for you to get what you want, right, my lord?’

Realization came to him in fragments, and Osha would have thought it cute if he were not who he was. ‘It is not what I want but what I need. And in this precise moment, I do not need your sister.’ He probed her temper, step after step, until he was once again inches away from Osha who frowned at him, hoping he would explain.

‘What do you need then? Who else can give you the army you came here to beg for?’

Qimir tilted his head to the side, staring at her like it was obvious enough. ‘You.’

Chapter Text

Osha flinched when the crowd clapped at the musicians. The wide room intensified the noise, making it seem like the whole of Brendok was standing there to celebrate the princesses’ 23^rd birthday. The walls, gilded with ornaments put up throughout the week, made the environment warmer and somehow darker. The candles flickered with the dances, with the drafts of the open windows and doors, as if ghosts whirled around watching the living celebrate life… while they had it. The blue banners coated the archways leading into the staff’s corridors so the guests wouldn’t see the maids coming in and out. But bored eyes, like Osha’s, would always spot them - and those sneaking to the shadows to have some privacy when handling their affairs. The crest of their family flickered with the gold-layered fabric, animating the often-static design of the Aniseya ancestors, with their hands reaching for what had never been conquered: the horizon. Perhaps, Osha’s dream wasn’t so out of the pocket as she thought it to be. It seemed that her ancestors had grown bored of their own imprisonment in the mundane.

            Twenty-three years, she thought, and she couldn’t help but feel like she was stuck somewhere distant, sometime when she had been younger. Sol had certainly helped to confound her; he persisted in treating her and her sister like they were children to be cared for, protected to the point that walls were raised, and gardens considered off limits. Only recently had he been elucidated to the crucial detail of the princesses’ ages and how they should’ve been already betrothed, which didn’t please Sol. He too, in a way, saw them for the young girls he had been entrusted with and not for the young women they were now.

She was sitting next to him, who occupied the heart of the long table put where the throne used to sit all by itself. On his other side sat Mae, comfortable in the spotlight her crown, title and responsibility shed upon her. Osha couldn’t quite focus on the celebration in front of her; her earlier exchange with Qimir hanging over her head, clouding her other thoughts until it was all she could hear.

‘What do you need then? Who else can give you the army you came here to beg for?’

 ‘You.’

She had practically run away from him after that, abandoning him in the colonnade on the pretense of being late for an appointment. He excelled at the art of catching everybody off guard.

A touch on the side of her arm brought her to look at Sol, finding him with his eyebrows drawn close in worry. ‘Are you feeling unwell?’

Osha pushed the sides of her mouth into a smile, the best she could muster. ‘Not at all! Why do you ask?’

‘You’ve been staring at your food instead of eating it.’

She glanced at her plate to see it disarranged but still as full as it had been in the beginning of the meal. ‘I lack the appetite, but I will eat.’

‘I hope so for I cannot be at ease knowing that you are skipping your meals.’ Sol stroked the side of her cheek, and she tilted her head to meet his touch, finding in it the comfort of familiarity.

A man approached, bowing as he politely presented himself so to ask Mae for a dance. His bravery was envied by those who had been too conflicted to take the first step, and their anger painted them all red when Mae got up and walked to him, accepting his open hand that led her to the swirling colors of the gowns and suits of the other pairs taking the dance floor.

Osha knew it to be protocol; Mae couldn’t exactly refuse unless Sol stepped in. But the smile on her face could have fooled her, making her believe she enjoyed being wanted and seeing them fighting for a crumb of her attention.

Osha set down her cutlery and watched as her sister embodied a paradox between grace and a fierceness that made her stand out. Osha found it a mystery how they were identical when they differed in so many aspects. Politics, colors, men, their past, they reasoned in different ways. She couldn't help but notice how every suitor faltered when before her and her sister, torn between the two as uncertainty blinded them and made the princesses one and the same. Osha knew it to be unfair but sometimes she hated the fact that very little set her apart from her sister. Indifferent to Sol’s clear partiality, the council considered Mae the better sister. The better student. The better princess. The better future queen.

When the dance was over, and before a new one started, Mae returned to her seat, strategical with how she exhibited her breathlessness. Everything with her was only partially shown, keeping to herself most of her thoughts and machinations. Even her sister couldn't escape the hard outer surface she had crafted with the training for the role she would be taking.

It was Sol's grunt that gave him away, the man loathing the sight of the contender bowing ahead. Osha glanced to the steps to find Qimir elaborately curtsy their tables, with focus on Mae, Sol and Osha. He does not waste time, she thought.

"What brings you to us? Is the food not to your liking?" Sol asked and Osha held her breath in the expectation that he might go forth with her plan right there and then.

He looked her way. "I wish only for a dance."

Mae, who was forbidden to refuse, was ready to break the rules if it meant she didn't have to be near this man. "I do not-"

"With all due respect, my princess, I was asking your sister. Princess Osha, will you accept my invitation?" He extended his hand, trapping Osha between a sword and a wall: on one side stood her sister watching with sharp eyes, resembling two blades aimed at Osha, hoping she would deny a Lord a dance. On the other side, was the what if. What if she accepted him - and consequently upset the very few relatives she still had.

Why couldn't she look at this man and disregard his struggle and his offers? Why couldn't she share that same hatred? But truth be told, he was giving her what she wanted. To leave Brendok and see what stood on the other side of the walls. This man had that and so much more to conquer. What were they when a plague took over people and turned them into monsters that slayed their own families and friends?

Dilemmas aside, Osha wouldn't mind dancing, the exercise a much-deserved break from that chair, but his question sounded loaded with other purposes like if she accepted marrying him for soldiers and a chance at giving his land an heir.

She didn't know if she wanted to accept his offer; she hadn't had time to go through it. She had been busy the rest of the afternoon, being embellished by her maids to look her best for the celebrations.

Much to her sister's horror, Osha got up and rounded the table, placing a hesitant hand over his own. ‘I would love it, Lord Qimir.’

They watched as Qimir led Osha to the wide circle standing below one of the many chandeliers lighting up the room. When away from the table and surrounded by spinning pairs, Qimir guided her hand to his shoulder, pulling her closer to him until only a thin curtain of air stood between the two. Osha could feel the weight of his touch on the small of her back as she stared at him. If he found her attention disconcerting, he didn't say anything about it, meeting her other hand with his own, letting them rest together before he started to lead the dance.

Were they different people, in different circumstances, Osha would've told him that his beauty did more for him than his elaborate words and undeniable education, but she didn't want to inflate the ego of a Lord she didn't know. Of a Lord from the lands who had sent an assassin to murder children, taking their mothers instead. If her sister was a paradox, then Osha was too, torn between wanting to move on and the accusatory twist of her heart where she stored her guilt of being alive and wanting more.

Her hand holding onto his shoulder slipped to his bicep and she was fascinated by how strong he was. She did know about it for he had almost squashed her earlier, but it was strong even when he wasn't making much effort.

"Found anything you like?" Qimir asked, his teasing only for her to hear.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I wouldn't hold it against you. I too have been attracted to my enemy before."

Osha frowned. "You have misread me. I was thinking."

"Will I be allowed a piece of said thoughts?" He queried, guiding her into a pirouette and pulling her to his arms again.

"Well, for instance, I was thinking about what you told me." Osha started, choosing to tell him what had been clouding her mind. ‘Are you on your own? Don’t you have a council advising you? What were their opinions on this plan of yours? Surely, they are more sensible.’

‘They were against it, calling it reckless, impossible, all sorts of things that made me want it even more.’ He shrugged as best as he could without meddling with their performance. ‘I can be a listener, but it doesn’t mean I will follow every command and advice from those that surround me. This is our best option, to lay down our weapons and join forces. This is beyond our battles, the blood shed in the past, beyond walls and divergences. What we are dealing here is the future of our world. This plague will stop at nothing… Unless we become one.’

Osha shifted her attention to their hands, watching as they played with each other as the choreography commanded, united by the heels like a blooming flower with its spread petals. ‘What do you have on this plague?’

            Something in his face dropped, like he wished not to speak of it. Osha thought that, perhaps, the sorrow of losing his parents was a fresh cut waiting to close. Part of her wanted to warn him about the incurableness of grief, how it was the type of wound people could merely grow used to, feeling the occasional twinge of pain, but never more (or less) than that.

‘All it takes is for an infected person to bite another person. The change is not immediate; it takes a few days, weeks depending on the resistance. A healthy body stands bigger chances at suppressing it than a malnourished one, but they all crumble, nonetheless.’ Qimir had slowed their pace, shifting from elaborate spins to a slow side to side rocking, keeping them both away from all the other pairs by never moving from the middle of the room. ‘They don’t find peace once they die. They are consumed by the demonic energy, changing them and leaving only the carcass to use it to lure their prey.’ He shook his head and forced the corner of his mouth to lift into a smile. ‘Pardon me, princess. I did not mean to sound so macabre at such a cheerful celebration. A birthday is to speak of life, not of death.’

‘Why are you apologizing? I was the one who asked about it and I have so many questions. Where did it start?’

Qimir inhaled, looking like he was calculating just how much he could tell her. ‘We have our suspicions regarding how it came to our lands, but nothing is certain. Accusations should be handled with care.’

Osha probed further. ‘Accusations? So, there is a suspect. Who is it?’

‘Princess, I don’t think this is the right moment to discuss this.’

‘But we are already talking about it.’ Osha heard the song reaching its end which meant that their dance was too.

‘I am leaving soon. Probably in a day or two. I need to know whether you are coming with me or not. So, instead of the plague, think of the matters you have at hand.’ Qimir stopped and Osha let go of his arm. Her other hand, however, was taken hostage by his, as he stared at her knuckles. ‘I know it doesn’t matter what I say now for it will sound only as an excuse for you to accept my proposal and it won’t bring back what has been taken from you, but I am very sorry for your loss.’ Osha froze, unprepared for what he said. The orchestra finished with a grave tone and the crowd clapped, glasses being raised in their honor, but Osha did not join them in the cheering. She had never been told that. That someone was sorry for her loss. It had always been for her to make use of her pain, of her anger and of her loss to burn her enemies, to harden herself so no one would attempt to make of her what she was not. But never, not once, did someone reach out to her to tell her that they were sorry that such a tragedy had befallen her.

            And how ironic it was that the first person to tell her such a thing was carrying on his shoulders the remnants of those who had given her such a loss?

‘Princess?’ But his voice was muffled in her stupor. Qimir was still holding her hand when she retrieved it from his to gather her skirts and curtsy.

‘Thank you for the dance, my lord. Enjoy the rest of the evening.’ She felt her heart crumple in her chest, the tension building until her throat was tight under the nonexistent force that choked her.

She needed to leave. Osha maintained her appearance, rushing from the center of the room to a door leaving to the inner halls where she knew she would be alone. Alone with her longing, alone with her sadness, alone with her ingenuity, alone with the realization that he was not some lord from some lands. He was not a man whose word she should take as honest, whose smile should cause her to waver on her rationality and whose promise of new horizons should make her consider turn her back to everything and everyone she knew. She was stricken by the sudden fear of being mad or the possibility of witchcraft being used against her. How could a stranger like him open her crammed heart and ruin years of smothering her emotions?

For the first time in years, Osha stumbled to her room where she secluded herself with her dejection and shame, feeling hatred not for Qimir or his lands but for the ill-fated stars that had allowed her to stay alive but not her mothers. And how she missed them, both their comfort and their reminders that Osha and Mae were not mere princesses of flesh and bone. They were, in their rawest nature, a product of magic waiting to be unleashed.

Chapter Text

Why did nightmares linger in her mind but not good memories or sweet dreams?

It is often said that the first thing that people forget of the deceased is the sound of their voice, yet Osha never once let her mothers’ songs escape her. They sang to her across realms, from the dead to the living, and across time, from the past to the present, but only when she was deep asleep, stuck in a maddening nightmare. It was as if sleep was an antechamber of death, a place of truce between it and life where everyone dawdled for a few hours.

            The dreams she couldn’t say, but her nightmares were always about Osha searching for Mae, her shouts echoing above the continuous melody of Mother Aniseya and Mother Koril, guiding her through the endless halls of the palace.

            And as any good nightmare, Osha would wake up with a jerk, her heart beating somewhere between her chest and her mouth and sweat dumping her locks. Today wasn’t any different. Her arms trembled while keeping her up, her eyes examining her lonely room only to find the same old view. The pastel pink limestone of the walls, columns and floor, framed by golden baseboards and flamboyant cornices. Heavy blue curtains blocked the light of a swelling sunrise and the mirror across her bed brought her to look at her from amidst the shadows. For a second too long, she seemed to see her younger self, eyes red and swollen from crying and rage painting her every other feature with a promise of blood.

            She shook her head, letting herself sink back into her mattress and pillows.

            A decision was due, and time ran out, sipping through her fingers like sand. Soon, she would ran out of it. Qimir presented her a way out of this hole but accepting his offer was to accept the end of any ties with her sister Mae. She knew she would not tolerate Osha leaving Brendok to the Rogue Lands, much less to marry and give an heir to their lord. It would mean a turning back on everything that she had ever known, that things would never be the same. This was no game and once a step was taken, there was no going back to rethink her choices.

Osha closed her eyes hoping the darkness would give her the answers she needed but what she got was the sight of Qimir's face, of him telling her that he was sorry. Not sorry for being who he was, for belonging to the enemy, for being the enemy, but for the loss this war between people, between lands had caused her. For turning her mothers into collateral damage.

Nauseous, she pushed herself off the bed and rang for her maids, seeing them rush inside a few minutes later. They bowed their heads in reverence and Osha almost begged them to get her a bath and a fresh gown ready so she could leave that room and busy herself with something else other than thinking.

She was on her way to breakfast when she crossed paths with a soldier friend of hers, Yord Fandar. They had known each other for as long as she could remember, and the affection had never waned. He had grown taller and stronger than her since he had started to be part of the army and now, he was stationed in the palace as a guard. Yord was preparing to greet her as a man of his rank should, but Osha kicked him, stopping him.

‘Don’t you dare! We’ve been through things that have destroyed the need of formality.’ She giggled as he pinched the side of her arm.

‘You speak as if getting lost in the gardens and falling into the pond is a matter concerning the queendom!” He joked.

‘It is! I am, after all, a princess.’

‘Oh, are you? I had no clue about it! Pardon me, my lady. My disregard for your health at the age of ten should have been punished.’ Yord bowed with a hand over his chest.

‘Your punishment is nothing more, nothing less than being my friend until death do us apart.’ Osha pronounced with her hands behind her back, as she had seen her sister Mae walk around when practicing court etiquette.

Then she offered one of her hands and Yord took it to place a gentle kiss on it. ‘I accept such punishment, oh my benevolent princess!’

            They burst laughing, drawing attention to themselves which brought them to straighten their backs, Yord offering his elbow and Osha taking it. They walked side by side across the wide empty hall leading to the dining room where the inhabitants of that mausoleum had their meals, every maid who crossed paths with them curtsying Osha.

            ‘So, I’ve heard of your special guest.’ Yord started, the ticking of time marked by the tap of their shoes on the floor.

            ‘He’s my sister’s special guest.’ Osha muttered, trying not to show how every nerve in her body reacted to the mere reminder of Qimir’s existence.

            ‘Is he? Well then, he may as well give up then. He stands no chance with Mae.’

            ‘I’m afraid he already knows that, but you see, he is rather desperate.’ Osha breathed. And desperation is a man’s worst advisor.

            ‘Why do I sense a bit of compassion?’ Yord squinted at her, teasing her.

            Osha rolled her eyes, knowing she had been busted. ‘Because it is all I have to offer him.’ Even when he believed otherwise.

            ‘It is better than nothing. Which is what he and his lands deserve for what they have inflicted on you.’ Yord told her, not knowing that part of Osha was contemplating accepting Qimir’s proposition. Anyone – everyone – would tell her just how absurd it was, how reckless and disrespectful it was for her to even grant this man a chance to plead for this cause, but her flaws were hers to acknowledge and deal with. She was well acquainted with how gullible she could be but when the key to her goals was being handed over like that… Was she supposed to turn her back and act superior? A hungry soul couldn’t afford such high morals.

            ‘Enough of me. What about you? Has your life become dull now that you are forced to be going on rounds around the royal grounds?’

            ‘I confess I have been feeling… stagnant.’ He sighed, patting the back of her hand.

            ‘Can you still wield a sword?’ Osha leaned into him, whispering so her question would only be heard by him.

            ‘I said stagnant not incapable of doing my job.’ He nudged her, making her stumble and dragging him along with her. If anyone saw them, they would think them more than just friends but the weight of years together – before he was sent away – made of them something like siblings.

            ‘Should I test you?’ Osha threw the bait, hoping he would fall for it.

            ‘Test me? You? Test what exactly, my princess?’ She swiftly reached for the hilt of his sword and withdrew it from its sheath. Yord took a step back, raising both hands in the air. ‘Alright, Osha, you win.  Let us not play with weapons now.’

            ‘Are you, perhaps, scared I might win?’

            He chuckled, in the same tenor Sol had many times during her childhood, allowing her a moment of greediness before he humbled her back to her sensible self. In a blink, Yord withdrew the other sword and pointed it at her. ‘Are we doing this? In the middle of the hall?’

            ‘Why? Do you need privacy to accept that you’ll lose?’

            Yord smiled. ‘No, but maybe you will.’

            When young, they would play knights and wars, pretending to have something to fight for, something to protect and something to win. Little did they know back then that life is itself a battle and that many fall before they have the chance to swing. Fate, they spoke, was a cruel blade hanging over their heads, waiting for the moment to strike them.

            With wooden sticks, Osha and Yord had engaged in many fights, swordsmanship an art they had both admired and tried to ace at. Yet, while Yord was given the opportunity to train it, to develop his skills, Osha was thrown to lessons on etiquette, on reverence, on how to charm and be charmed. Tedious hours during which she saw she did not stand a chance against her sister. When everybody seemed to have their purpose in life, Osha was left in a limbo. At what, exactly, was she supposed to be good at? What was her call?

            Yord charged at her first, and it told her everything she needed to know. There was no way she would leave victorious of this prank. She blocked his attack as she had always done, the muscle memory unaware of the change in the circumstances. It was an ingenuous move; the fact that that sword in her hands was not a stick forewarned her defeat and the taste of it burned her like poison would. Osha did not like losing – it was another fault of hers, but she rarely had to deal with it. With Yord, however, it seemed that she would have to suck it up.

She struggled to keep her arms above her head and the handle began to hurt her smooth palm.

            ‘Are you ready to quit?’ He asked.

            Osha replied with a groan, surprising Yord. He backed away, swinging his weapon effortlessly, drawing her attention to an obvious point: his body knew what to do, what to not do. Hers was lacking that discipline. She did not have a good stance; her balance was always off and her favoritism for her right leg was predictable, letting Yord read her intentions before she could even make up her mind. She could hardly be a threat with a weapon that big in her hands. Maybe with a dagger or a simple knife she stood better chances at drawing blood but even then, she would still lack the speed, the precision, the eye to see before there was anything happening in front of her.

            When she showed intentions of attacking, Yord was chirurgical with his swing, his blade shoving hers to the side. The weight of it brought it to slip from her amateurish grip and fall on the ground with a final strident sound. He whirled her around before she could recover so her back was against his front, his free arm a hook around her neck.

‘And you’re out.’ Yord celebrated, pushing her off his embrace.

Osha frowned, feeling like a jester. ‘I did not have time to prepare.’

‘That is a lesson to be learned. Do not start what you are not prepared to deal with.’ The princess reached for the sword on the ground and handed it over. His words had a deeper meaning to her - not simply to keep her from making a fool out of herself or to overvalue her capacities but to remind her that she was only a pawn in a scheme bigger than her. Because politics were schemes upon schemes, a web of interests and goals created not by people like Osha but by people who held the power in their hands. What did she hold if not only the present moment? Everything else was decided for her.

‘I do believe Sol has told me that sometime before.’ She murmured, the weight of her guilt heavier this morning. The universe appeared to be desperate to disperse any thoughts of freedom, warning her that selfishness had its consequences and that maybe she was not ready for any of them. Her mothers died for her and Mae and yet this was not enough to satisfy Osha. Why did she need more?

‘Worry not. I won’t tell Master Sol that you haven’t learned it yet. You were always a diligent learner, so it is a matter of time until this mistake is beyond you. Now… Shall we continue?’ He motioned to the dining room, the door pushed open all the way to the back. She stared at it as she heard Yord tucking his blades into their scabbards and then returned her arm to his, suddenly aware that even Yord treated her as the young princess she had been a long time ago, the little girl he remembered from their childhood but with a twist. He seemed to take her for the kind of person to be content with what life had given her. A future already outlined by those around her.

At the door, he turned to her, her smile as fake as any. ‘I must go now. It is always a pleasure to see you, to be with you.’ He kissed her hands, brought together to his lips. ‘I missed you, Osha.’

‘I missed you too, Yord. You and Jecki. How is she?’

Jecki had been part of their small group, their bumblebee, always in her yellow robes, and her blonde hair as if made with liquid sunlight. She always had this green amulet hanging from her neck, a talisman given by her tutor to ward off bad energies. The priest visiting the palace for a quick mass hated what it symbolized, calling it blasphemy for the only capable to keep dangers at bay was God, by following His words day by day.

With demonic plagues at their doorstep, Osha couldn’t help but wonder what His words would do to keep people from falling prey to such horror.

‘Jecki is alright. She was sent to the wall, the one to the Rogue Lands. Last time we spoke, her letter was short and straightforward, as is typical of her. You should write her. She will be happy.’

‘Yes. I should.’ But Osha did not know what to ask her, what to tell Jecki. It felt like she hadn’t lived much since that day when she hugged Jecki one last time before she disappeared with Yord. What would she write? Her laments? Her dreams? The dilemma she lived in between wanting to live and wanting to honor the life her mothers gave her? Suddenly, it felt more like she had only things to complain about rather than to be enthusiastic about which wouldn’t be pleasant to read (or write). The last thing she needed was Jecki thinking she was a spoiled brat.

‘See you again soon. Perhaps before your sister’s wedding.’ Yord said, taking steps backs.

‘Yes. Before that, yes.’ Osha watched him bow and then walk away. He had a life to return to, responsibilities pending while she had kidnapped him from his duties. Everything with Osha was a burden or a favor and she had hoped that, with time and age, it would stop feeling like asking for a minute of other people’s lives was the same as a child tugging at an adult’s sleeve when needing attention. She was tired of being static while everyone around her marched forward without looking back to see if she was following them.

Osha breathed in, fed up with the depressing mood clinging onto her, and decided to focus on the fresh pastries and orange juice awaiting her on the long table. This day has yet to start, she declared, deluding herself. And sometimes, to go through a mishap-fated day, one could only trick themselves into believing that the tide would change.

Chapter Text

            Mother Aniseya, Mother Koril and Sol were the only examples of love Osha and Mae had ever had. Their mothers had always shown their daughters how romantic and pure love for one another was meant to be. It did not matter how many times she revisited the past; Osha never found a lost memory of her mothers arguing or even crying because of something the other had said or done. The continuity of Brendok as a queendom - the legacy of their ancestors – had always been upon their shoulders and Osha liked to believe the reason why they prospered together was because they cherished each other – or better, complemented each other. They had learned the art of communication, working out their flaws, their divergences and their shared beliefs. For a long time, the love her mothers had for one another, conciliating it with their duties, was the kind of love she had strived for.

            The hopeless romantic in her, however, was short lived. Osha was no fool, at least in most things, and soon she understood that her mothers had protected both their daughters from the less pretty side of spending one’s lifetime with another person.

            When gone, both princesses were left in Sol’s care whose lap, arms and smile became almost like a second home to the two children suddenly alone in the wide world. Sol’s love for Osha and Mae matched that of Mother Aniseya’s and Mother Koril’s even though he was not their father. But they could pretend he was. It felt right.

            After that illusion came apart, Osha stopped thinking about love, knowing it to be something rare even to royalty. Conning herself with wishes for love, for affection, would be a waste of time as well as torture because playing this game of crowns and conquests had very little to do with whether she loved her future husband or not, if she wanted to have children or not. She would have a husband either way and she would have to pop out his children even when pregnancy frightened her. Being a woman in the majority of the lands was to serve – a king, a prince, a princess until she was ready to take her own role of servitude. In Brendok, she knew it to be similar, but it was the man who would be chosen to serve. The queens needed only a seed, and the husband would hold little to no power within their borders. Mae was the fortunate one; As queen, she would retain in her position every drop of influence to demand whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. She could do what their mothers did: Choose another partner to stand by her side without drawing attention to the princesses’ father.

            Osha and Mae did not know who their father was, but it never felt like it was important to know. They had always had their mothers and it had been enough. When without them, they had Sol. Of what use would their father be now?

            But Osha would not have the same power in her person when out of Brendok. She would be like all the princesses and ladies who had come before her and who had been made part of agreements, of negotiations, turned into gifts… and she would serve.

            She sat by the edge of a fountain, looking at the clueless fish swimming around, their world delimited to that circle of water from where a statue of a cupid emerged, pointing its arrow to the skies. Ignorance was bliss, she concluded, for these fish would never know just how lucky they were not to have to choose between Mae – and Sol’s plans – and doing something for herself and accept Qimir’s offer.

            Osha was soaking up the sun when she heard the crack of a twig. She opened her eyes, expecting to see one of the guards hurrying her inside or Sol urging her to find solace in the closest shadow but instead she found one of the maids, stumbling across the garden with her eyes wide in terror while blood spurted from every bursting blister dotting her body. She struggled with her clothes, like she was burning and needed to get out of them to breathe, but soon her nails began to dig onto her own skin from where she bled.

           ‘My princess! Help me!’ Osha recovered from her shock to be torn between helping her or running away. Circumstances made a decision for her, when the maid collapsed on the ground squirming in pain. The princess began to widen the space between them, backing away from the scene. The maid’s screams alerted the security and Osha could hear them from afar, rushing to get in position to reach for the princess and eliminate the threat. And for the first time in her life, Osha regretted having chosen the furthest place from the palace to think about all the things troubling her.

            Resembling the statue behind her, she was petrified in her fear, watching as the maid wrestled against the venom in her veins, a creature eating her from inside out. Every cough brought with it bits and blood, her sounds unlike anything Osha had ever heard.

            ‘Your grace…’ The poor girl reached out, her trembling hand alone in the air before it crumpled. She was not human anymore, but a foul creature that rose from the puddle it had made of its host and bolted after the princess.

            Gathering her skirts, she turned around and dashed back to the palace, her focus set on the wall of soldiers on the horizon. Their whistles were almost comforting when the chase was everything but that. Osha got rid of her shoes, kicking them off as she ran, her feet fast on the floor and her lungs begging her for air she couldn’t breathe.

            ‘Princess Verosha!” She heard from the side, meddling with her pace and making her trip over herself. With a grunt, she fell to the ground where she attempted to crawl away when her legs failed at pushing her off the grass.

            At a piercing screech, the world went quiet, and she turned to see the beast. This is it. This is how I die, she thought, convinced of her demise.

            A shadow materialized in her line of sight, two swords in hands with which the man sliced the once-maid demon into chunks, the remnants left behind to tell the tale. The head landed onto her lap, and she shook it off with a yelp.

            Her heartbeat drummed in her ears as her savior wiped his blades and shoved them back into their sheaths. He turned around to assess her, and she was faced with Qimir, whose face hardened at the red on her clothes. He came to her, his hands demanding as he pulled her up from the ground. She noticed his lips were moving but she heard nothing more than her own breathing, the sound of the beast screaming, the wiping of the maid in her final moments.

            If she remained sane, it would be a miracle.

            ‘Princess Verosha, I need you to listen to me.’ He spoke again, close enough to snap her out of her terror.

            ‘I- I’m listening.’ She mumbled, shaking like leaves amidst a storm.

            ‘Did it touch you? Did it scratch you?’ Qimir looked down, his eyes roaming her body for signs of any wound. ‘Is this blood yours?’

            ‘I’m- It didn’t touch me. I ran. I…’ Osha felt his grip around her arms.

            ‘We need you to get out of this dress, to wash yourself. The less contact you have with their blood the better.’ He mumbled, pushing her towards the palace.

            ‘I’m not injured. Just shaken.’ She wanted to make sure he knew this blood was not hers. ‘What was that?’

            ‘Can you walk?’ He asked, as if evading her question.

            ‘What was that?’ She pressed further. ‘I need to know.  I saw one of my maids. But she wasn’t…’

            ‘It’s the plague. This is taking too long. It has found its way into Brendok.’ Qimir was nervous too even if he appeared calmer than Osha. He tried to lead her to the guards, but only when he picked her up from where she refused to move did he manage to walk away from the rotten smell of the decaying corpse behind them.

            Osha stared at him from up close, relieved that he had shown up, that he had stopped that creature from coming after her into the haven Sol had made for her and her sister. ‘Mae. I could’ve put her in danger.’ She said aloud, realizing just how reckless she had been when deciding to run back to the palace.

            ‘No walls can keep this disease away. We must act. We must kill these beasts before they spread their venom any further.’ Qimir halted in front of the guards, their commands imperative. He was to let the princess go and to kneel on the ground.

            ‘You don’t have to fear them while I’m in your arms.’ She reminded him.

            ‘If more trouble occurs, the Regent and your sister will never help me.’ Osha was not surprised that they blamed him for whatever happened there; he was not welcome and was treated with suspicion. If he did not leave this place, he would be thrusted into a cell forever, blamed for every misfortune that befell Brendok. He returned her to the floor, his touch sliding across her body as he made sure she was steady on her legs.

            ‘Is that the only solution? To send our men to war with these hellish creatures?’ She asked, still holding onto his arm.

            He peeled her hand from him, finger by finger until it was resting on his own. ‘Progress requires sacrifices. Our men and women are aware of what is asked of them. They chose this. What do you choose, Verosha?’ He pulled her even closer, his free hand grabbing her by the elbow. There was no doubt that he was feeling her quickened pulse, but not even she knew if it was still beating like that because of the demon or because she could breathe his scent. ‘This is not a nightmare that will go away if you distract yourself. It will stay, and grow, and eat us all alive. Our soldiers know what they are expected to do. Do you?’

            What do you choose, Verosha?

            She opened her mouth to speak, but the guards forced Qimir to let her go, to stand on his knees before her as he withheld the staring contest between them. Another soldier led her away from the scene, but her mind never left Qimir, not even when he was taken away to the dungeons where he would wait for an opportunity to plead for mercy. Mercy, Osha presumed, had lost its value. Mercy was nothing more than a way to diminish one’s adversary and to elevate egos.

            And it was by her sister Mae that Osha stood while waiting for the guards to fetch the Rogue Lord from the catacombs of the palace to answer before the future queen, her sister and the regent for his crimes. Crimes that he had yet to commit. She had taken a bath, scrubbed every inch of her body clean, hoping it would wash away the memories so they couldn’t haunt her in her sleep. By the time she had sorted her feelings out, Osha was forced into a new gown knowing her previous one to be beyond salvation and that Sol would take pleasure in burning it.

            So, it was in a deep purple corset and black skirt, embroidered with golden threads, that she sweated now, impatient with both her and Mae. ‘This is absurd. He saved me.’ Osha complained but her sister simply looked ahead. ‘If you are trying to prove a point, then I wish you would stop. This is ridiculous.’

            ‘Do you like him? Do you want him between your legs?’ Mae shot at her, turning violently to the side where Osha deepened her scowl. Sol muttered a warning, but he often forgot that neither of the princesses was a child anymore. ‘He is handsome, I’ll give you that. Anyone would gladly take him in his mouth. But you are not anyone. You are a princess. You are a Brendok princess. You are not meant to foster feelings for the enemy-‘

            ‘I don’t have feelings for him. I simply want you to focus on the demon-‘

            ‘Who is the demon here? Who took our mothers? Who invaded our lands to spill blood with their plague? Who invaded our home to leave us orphans? Spare me your pity, your understanding for his cause. As far as I know he might be responsible for the attack! It was his plan to frighten you, to save you, to fool your heart into believing every single lie he sings into your ear!”

            ‘Mae!” Osha shot up from her chair when the doors of the room opened to give way to Qimir and the soldiers dragging him across the blue rug. ‘Release him.’ She ordered, but her sister was unyielding as ever, refusing Osha have her way. ‘Mae, release him. He is innocent.’

            ‘He will never be innocent. Since the moment he was born, he is as complicit in the crimes committed beneath this ceiling as the person who pulled the knife and slit our mothers’ throats.’ Mae pushed her shoulders to the back and looked down on Qimir as he was thrown to the steps ahead of her. ‘I knew you were trouble from the moment you walked in. I gave the benefit of doubt because my sister took a liking to how you worded the imminent doom at our doorsteps, but I hate to tell you that I am not my sister, and I will not buy your sweet words and promises of freedom.’ Mae side eyed her sister who shook her head.

            ‘Your Highness, I am not the one responsible for the outbreak of this disease. I came here looking for a way to put an end to it, to solve this matter before it reached you!” Qimir did not wait for permission to be granted. As far as Osha could see, he would not let her sister accuse him of creating chaos when that same chaos had murdered his own parents.

            ‘Mae, stop. Let him go. Lord Qimir was to return so let us not start a fight now.’ Osha spoke again, willing to put herself in the line of fire to end this.

            ‘It is Your Highness, even to you.’ Mae corrected Osha, her gaze murderous. She did not recognize her own sister and suddenly, her choice became very clear. ‘Lord Qimir is to be escorted to the wall. It is, indeed, time for him to leave this palace, to leave Brendok and to leave my sister alone.’

            ‘You cannot blame me for the state of your relationship with your sister, Your Highness. In fact, it appears you have revoked her freedom to choose what she wants for her life. She is a woman of free will. Free will to choose if she believes me or not. If she wants to marry me or not. If she wants to leave this place or not.’

            Mae turned red from rage. ‘How dare you!”

            Sol took it as a sign to step in. ‘It is best if you leave. Now.’

            Qimir looked at Osha as he got up to his feet. ‘No one can decide it for you. The future, your life, it is yours to do with it as you will. Do not let anyone write your story. Not your sister, not your council, not me. You have the weapon in your hand. Wield it as you like.’ He bowed and twirled so his back was turned to them, and walked away before the guards had the chance to grab him again.

            ‘Wait.’ Osha heard her own voice echoing across the room. Qimir came to a halt, but dared not to look at her, failing to see her taking a step forward and Sol tensing at the sight of her making a choice in front of him.

            ‘Osha, don’t do this.’ Sol advised her.

            Mae, however, was quicker to stop her sister. With a single flicker of a hand, the guards rushed to the stairs, keeping her from going further away from her and Sol. Osha knew they wouldn’t dare lay a finger on her, so she kept on walking, step after step, with them backing away but never moving from the path ahead.

            ‘I have thought about your proposal.’ Osha admitted and, at that, he glanced over his shoulder to show her how hopeful he was that she would accept it. ‘A lot, if I may be so forthright. In fact, I do not know how you did it, maybe by knowing that my weakness was my own selfishness for I do want to live this life as I so desire, but you managed to infiltrate my every thought.’ Qimir was now fully turned to her, both kept apart by the barrier of guards raised by Mae.

            And it was Mae’s voice that travelled across the room now. ‘Osha. Sister. Come here!’

            Osha had already made her decision and she wouldn’t back down. ‘I accept your proposal. I will marry you and I will help you with this plague.’ The fright was a lesson, and even though Osha did not feel ready to fight this battle, she would work on her competences to stand by Qimir in frontline and save not only the Rogue Lands but also Brendok and every other person from meeting the same end as countless innocents in the Rogue Lands and that poor maid who had waken up one day not knowing she would soon meet death in the most excruciating way.

            And Osha would be free. Free to be herself as much as her imposed servitude would allow.

Chapter Text

"She's going nowhere." Sol declared from where he stood, hand upon the hilt of his sword.

"I have the right to choose." Osha stated, looking over her shoulder to the man she considered a father figure.

"And I have the obligation to warn you when you're about to make a mistake." He countered, taking a step forward and hiding Mae from view.

"A mistake? A mistake is to ignore the evident danger that lurks around, waiting for us to prioritize our hatred instead of setting it aside and work to protect innocent people!"

"A mistake because you are blind with the illusion of being a heroine, of being free from the past." Sol’s accusations thundered, his voice thick with both apprehension and rage.

‘Should I be punished for wanting to be free of the burden our mothers' deaths put on me? I am tired of living to honor them. I'm tired of living for those who aren't here to witness my sacrifices. I'm sure they would want me to abide by my instincts, by my reasoning.’ Osha burned with frustration, watching as Sol shortened the distance between them. It was clear he wanted to be close to her, as if his proximity would bring her some sense, like a leash he could put back on her. Osha was fully aware of what she was doing. For the first time in a long while she knew the choice she was making, and she didn't regret it. At least, she did not regret it yet.

"To lose your mothers so young was a traumatic experience. I do not doubt that it maimed you, but listen to me, Osha. The recognition you seek… you won't find it with him. The freedom you so wish is not in the Rogue Lands. This man is not the saint he makes himself be. He may appear so, vowing to you for the sake of his lands, but the past cannot be erased!"

"You speak a lot about the past, King Regent. Maybe you should take it as a lesson. The future lies ahead of you and not behind." Qimir stepped in, even though he made no effort to move from where he was.

"The past doesn't let us fall prey to the artifices of those who seek us to achieve their goals!" Sol was visibly upset, glaring at Qimir like he wished this man dead and buried. Why wouldn’t he? Since the moment he had stepped into the palace, his most cherished child had grown a will of her own.

"I can agree with you on that, and I make your words mine." There was more to it than he let out, but she didn't venture into the details.

"Let me pass." Osha’s strictness was a punch on the wall that was Sol’s and Mae’s unbending determination, and she began to feel like she was a prisoner too. "Let. Me. Pass. You cannot keep me here against my will!"

"You will stay. Where you belong." Sol contested, daring to take another step closer and reach for her shoulder, the weight of his hand feeling, for the first time, wrong. Forceful. "Tomorrow, you'll be grateful for this conversation-"

"I SAID LET ME PASS!" Her scream was accompanied by an itch that bolstered into a fire familiar to her from her nightmares, where she turned into light and energy only to wake up in the darkness of her room with her mothers' ballad ringing in her ears.

With another shout, she propelled the guards, Sol and Qimir away from her, the force so strong that the crystals embellishing the chandelier shattered along with every glass of every window in that room.

Mae took shelter behind a column from where she arose and ran towards Sol who was lying on the ground grumbling with the pain of his fall. Osha, on the other hand, recovered only to lose her poise, almost tumbling to the floor hadn’t two stern arms caught her by her armpits.

"We must go now!" Qimir announced, hurling her over his shoulder and taking the distraction she had created to flee from the room.

"What have I done?" She found herself asking, staring at the door, at her sister’s silhouette as she watched them disappear down the corridor onto the foyer. She couldn't help but worry about her and Sol. They would never cease from being family.  

"Questions will be answered in a more appropriate time." He stated, grunting at the task of towing her and running down the staircase. His fingers dug into her thigh to keep her from falling while the other steadied her by her waist. She could only imagine how this looked like.

Like he was abducting her.

The guards hurried after them, and she was surprised by how quick and certain of the direction he was. It appeared that he had studied the palace, the structure of the building, every way in and out of it so to know where to go if need occured. Had he planned this? To steal her from Brendok if she rejected his offer?

He retreated suddenly as if dodging an attack, and her hands shot out to grab onto his lower back to stop her from falling head down.

"Let go of her!" She heard Yord's voice and tried to look over her shoulder to see him. "Don't worry, Osha. I'll save you." He directed his harshness at Qimir. "You cannot come here and take one of our princesses like they are flowers meant to decorate your foul lands."

"I can, and I will." Qimir set her down and Osha was about to ask her friend to ignore them when Yord lashed out at Qimir with his sword. The Rogue Lord pushed her out of sight, refusing to let Yord have his way and responding to his attack with dodges and pirouettes until he withdrew one of his own swords and engaged in a duel.

"Run, Osha!" Yord shouted but she didn't move - only took a step back to evade a blade that had come her way accidentally. ‘Surrender, you coward!”

‘I have no reason to surrender.’

"Yord, stop! Please, both of you!" Osha's heart picked up pace, watching the tension escalate as the guards grew in numbers. She wasn’t brave enough to intervene – she didn’t even know how! There was a big chance of meeting a blade in the process and having herself killed.

Qimir was being held back by Yord, or the other way around because it felt like the Rogue Lord was giving the young guard time to acquiesce. Her friend surprised Lord Qimir with a kick from the side, shoving him to the ground with a clanking sound of his sword sliding to the other side of the room. Osha raised her eyes to see Yord turning his back to Qimir, presuming to have won their swordfight. He assessed Osha, concern wrinkling his forehead. ‘Are you wounded?’

‘No, I-‘ The princess gasped, the warning stuck in her throat. Qimir emerged from behind Yord and forced her friend down to his knees, his bones digging into the limestone floor by an invisible force. With his massive hands, Qimir held Yord's head and chin, snapping it to the side and fracturing his neck without chances of him making out alive.

"What… What have you done?" She whispered. Qimir shoved Yord’s body to the ground like discarding a pile of rubbish. ‘What did you do? What are you?’ Osha's gaze jumped from the fallen figure of her friend to the complexion of the man who was to be her husband. She recoiled, tussling with his hands, disgusted by the feeling of them on her after witnessing them take Yord's life. "Don't touch me! You killed him!"

"We don't have time for this." Qimir grunted and threw her back onto his shoulder, taking her every slap and punch like a punishment for his crime. She thrashed against his hold, but he didn't budge, hastening towards the stables where he reached for his horse. Black like a starless sky but shiny as if bathed by the lonely silver moonlight, the animal greeted its owner with a humph, giving the impression that it was pleased to depart from Brendok.

Putting Osha back on the ground, he ordered her to climb onto the horse. "I'm not doing this. I've changed my mind." Fear vibrated through her limbs, similar to standing at the edge of a cliff to see the bottom of the sea growing further and further away from her.

"Too bad you don't have a choice anymore."

"Yes, I do! You're the one who killed a person. You're the one who should be running away. Not me! Don’t touch me!"

"You'll be begging for another chance to run away from your sister and your King Regent soon enough if you stay. Do you think they will forgive you? Do you think they will forget the moment you turned your back on them? You know better than anyone that they do not forget the past because that would be forgetting their mission." They lived for revenge, to compensate Brendok for the sudden loss of its two queens, to squash their enemies until only dust remained.

‘They love me. They would never treat me that way.’

Qimir held her by her chin when she refused to look at him. His eyes were the most compelling, but she was a changed person and knew not to fall for his tricks. "No amount of love is capable of mending a breach in one’s trust and they will never trust you again. They will lock you up until you are sold to another man. Do you know how they treat pretty princesses like you in courts dominated by men? They ruin them, break them until they are nothing more than cock-sucking dolls to exhibit, names in a foreign history manuscript, smeared to oblivion because other people didn't see their worth. Your worth.’  

‘Stop it.’ Osha murmured, abashed. She let a tear escape from the corner of her eye at the cruelty in his words. The scenario he described matched her fears since the moment she learned the ways of the Court. Being nothing more than a child-bearing doll was something she did not wish for anyone.

He brushed her tear with his thumb, the tenderness in it baring a striking contrast to how he had made her realize the inevitability of her circumstances. ‘I see your worth. I saw it the moment I laid eyes on you, and I saw it again today. Clearer than ever. You can go far in life with the right person by your side."

‘And the right person… Is that you?’ She asked.

‘You think I’m the bad guy. It is for the best. Don’t trust me, don’t create fantasies of love. We all have our purpose in this life, and I am serving mine as you will serve yours.’ And her vulnerability disgusted her at that moment. She shouldn’t be crying, not when she was a princess and much less in front of this man whom she knew nothing about and yet had chosen him over her own sister and master. How foolish Osha felt now.

‘You spoke of courts dominated by men. Yours is no different. Will you make a whore out of me?’ She was afraid to ask but she did, nonetheless.

"I will make you a legend. You will help me change our destinies. Now climb, princess." His hold was rough, lifting her off the ground as she resigned herself to his will. Straddling the horse's back, she felt Qimir join her, his arms both a protection and a new barrier, confining her to his embrace.

His breath was in her ear as he kicked the horse and they darted towards the wall surrounding the capital. They rarely closed the gate, comfortable in the power brewing within Brendok’s borders, so it wasn't a surprise to see them wanting to close it at the sight of the princess and the Rogue Lord but failing. They went through with ease, skipping over the gaps and meandering through the liveliness of the city, leaving a trail of hysteria behind them. He didn't care if they were followed; they knew where he was heading to.

Osha sobbed because she was scared. Scared of the man Qimir was, capable of killing without batting an eyelash. He reminded her of sirens, singing beautifully to gullible souls only to drown them right after. Scared of what the future had in store. Scared that this was a terrible idea and that she would be all alone to bear the consequences of her actions.

They rode obstinately, the horse sprinting through the town and the vast green meadows separating the utopian reality of the capital from the tension lived in the wall between Brendok and the Rogue Lands.

"Is it safe to simply go to the Rogue Lands like this?" She enquired once her tears had dried and she was certain she wouldn’t stutter.

"We will meet someone on the other side." Was all he had to give her.

The wall grew in stature, humming a warning for them to stay away. Birds flew over it, oblivious to what set these people apart, but unlike them, the guards were already expecting the runaways, weapons in hand aimed at them.

The horse slowed down until they were close to the gate.

"Release Princess Verosha right this instance! We have permission to shoot!"

At that, Qimir grabbed Osha by her hair and tugged at it, forcing her head to tilt back and present her defenseless throat to the sharp edge of his now solitary sword. The blade rang with the draft passing through it, like it could cut the wind if he so wished.

"Don't. Please." She beseeched.

"Let us through." But when he was met with insistence from the guards, he brought his lips to her ear and whispered "Tell them that you want them to lower their weapons. Tell them not to shoot. And do it fast."

She swallowed and parroted his words. "Lower your weapons and don't attempt to shoot us. We just want to go to the other side."

"Osha?" She heard from the wall, recognizing the voice like she had Yord's. Tears burned her eyes again. "Osha! Don't worry, we will help you!"

"Jecki! Just let us go! Please!" She replied, finding her friend's blonde hair amidst the crowd. It was short now, but she still resembled the sun. It brought her a sense of peace and relief that did not last because Yord’s face, followed by the image of his motionless body on the ground, assaulted her thoughts, reminding her that she was as guilty for his death as Qimir.

Jecki wavered in her duty, unsure if she should follow the rules or the princess’ word. But then she signaled to someone, and the gate moaned, the hinges rusty as they opened before them. Osha watched it, like a mouth preparing to swallow her whole. Her hands closed into fists, fearing what stood there, waiting for her.

"We will pass through. Don't attempt to shoot. And remember, if any attempt is made when we're already in my territory, there will be retaliation!" Qimir threatened, his blade unrelenting and growing hot when so close to her skin.

With a nudge, the horse began to walk again and in a blink of an eye, Osha was out of Brendok. Not like she had envisioned for so long, but she realized then that she had been hoping for a fairytale and she got a horror story instead.  

Qimir pulled back his sword, shoving it back to the side of his waist and urged the horse to go faster. Her hand gauged her neck, sighing when she found it faultless. "You are mad! Why did you do that?" She protested.

"Because they value your life much more than they do mine. They will do everything to keep you alive.’

The whistle of an arrow alerted her to it. ‘Can you hear it?’ But her question came a second too late. The sharp edge brushed against the side of Qimir's arm, cutting it clean through the clothes. Blood began to ooze from the wound, and he hissed, rage and pain painting his face. For a moment she thought he would turn back and kill every one of the guards standing at the wall, but he snapped only the reins, telling the creature to keep going.

Osha tried to catch a glimpse of Jecki, of the wall, of Brendok… But all she saw was Qimir, eyes set on the path ahead as they plunged into dangerous territory.

While one was going back home, Osha was saying goodbye to everything she had ever known.

Chapter Text

"Will it take much longer?" She bemoaned, ashamed to act like a petulant child. The truth was that she couldn’t take it much longer. The quietude of the scenery in which they appeared to be lost had allowed her anguish to settle comfortably in her fatigued mind, picking apart every moment of Qimir’s fight with Yord. She had hoped the pain in her butt to distract it from it, but she always wandered back to her friend, crumbling to the ground lifeless, to the snap of his neck. She feared her memories of him, the ones she was fond of and even those in which they had argued heartily, would be forever spoiled by the stillness in his eyes, by the sound of the bone cracking. It reminded her of the horrors preached in tales, and it would dismay anyone how so many of them were, in fact, real, possible, tangible.

"If you thought this would be a pleasant voyage, I hate to say that you've fooled yourself."

"Like I've fooled myself with you? With this?" Osha was overwhelmed by everything that had happened that day. How did things change so fast? How did they get here? In the morning, she had only to worry about the lack of sleep, about the abundance of nightmares afflicting her. Now she was worried about dying in the woods, slaughtered by demons, while mourning the death of a friend who had only been trying to help her - not knowing she had chosen the enemy instead.

"If you fooled yourself with me, it is because you judged me without knowing me."

She wished she could face him. "Noble marriages rarely are about knowing each other. It’s about politics, strategy, the scheming, what one can offer and what one can gain. And what was I supposed to ask? Was I to ask if you could kill people? Was I to ask if you were willing to cut my throat for a chance of making a scene?" Her anger brought her voice to grow louder. She couldn't look more unladylike to this man, but she couldn’t bring herself to care- even though she was overly aware of how he tightened his legs against hers in a silent warning. "You came to me with a proposal which I accepted and surprise! The moment you achieved your objective, you revealed your true colors! My sister was right. You are a murderer-"

"One has to be to survive in this world, where you have no walls sheltering you from every threat. It is either their lives or mine and I value mine for it is the only thing that I truly possess. I’m going to give you a piece of advice, princess, whether you want it or not.’ He tightened his legs against hers again, shushing her before she could refuse it. ‘Toughen your skin. Toughen your shell. The real world does not soften its blow to meet your limits. So, work on them otherwise you’ll find life excruciating.’ Osha swallowed, rendered speechless. She knew she was privileged; a princess rarely wasn’t. She was also aware that she had been born and raised away from the struggles a common peasant went through in their daily lives. Then again, a princess rarely was encouraged to share days and nights with them.

But she refused to think of herself as a useless figurine, pampered to the point of lacking common sense and being detached from reality. When she opened her mouth to argue, it was his voice she heard again. ‘You can try to shame me, but I will never regret having made it out alive." He guided the horse along a path only he knew, his confession quiet and tender. Qimir did not feel ashamed of the life he took, of having taken her out of Brendok when she had wavered in her decision. This was a man on a mission, and he would see it through all the way to the very end.

"Good luck getting your army after this." She muttered, but her strength failed her even to argue now.

"I don't need those men anymore." His words brought her to twist so she could see him. "They're welcome, yes, but I've found a more powerful tool."

"Which is?"

"You. Your magic. Did you see what you did back there? That force can do more in battle than a battalion can." He sounded hopeful and optimistic.

"You want me to fight? I thought it was a metaphor."

"It was. Not after that."

"What of my duty? Are you willing to risk so much? What if I die? Where will you find yourself a new wife after your show in Brendok? Word will spread. Exaggeratingly so. And then who will give you an heir?"

"That's why you're having it as soon as possible." It, she noticed that a baby was to this man a thing and not a being. An heir was not a person in his eyes but an extension of the realm, a steppingstone onto the future.

"Are you willing to wait nine months or more to fight this plague?" Osha couldn't stop asking him questions. Questions, she noticed, that she should've known to ask when still at home. She had been too eager, too thirsty for her freedom and that had cost her far too much. Caution was something she welcomed and hopefully it would never leave her again.

"More?" He sounded puzzled.

"Yes. You see, this is not a certain science. Some people never conceive. There are plenty of variables. Besides, have you considered that I may not want to lay down with you?"

He hummed. "It certainly felt like you were willing to give me a try."

She blushed at his forthrightness. "You flatter yourself."

"I never hid that I needed an heir. So why are you trying to evade this? Are you scared of it?" His curiosity was genuine, but Osha didn't answer; there was no point in lying. He would know she hated the idea of carrying a person in her belly. She had seen one of her maids give birth once, when the poor girl had no other option than to have it in one of the many rooms of the palace and neither Osha nor Mae had had the courage to send her away amidst that cruel scene. In fact, they had wanted to be there, to watch and see what their own fate would be. Blood, pain and struggle. Osha could still feel the maid’s tight grip around her hand, threatening to crush her bones. Up until now, she couldn't see the beauty in it, not even when the child cried, and everyone let out a breath they had been holding onto.

"You needn't worry." He told her, almost as if sensing her recoiling from that memory. "I intend to work on your magic first. I've understood that you don't know what it is or how to use it. In the meantime, I'll send word to other countries regarding our marriage and hopefully, it will reach them first than the lies your sister and her regent will spin around. And hopefully, their gifts will be more than just accessories and trinkets. There are many things in need of our attention."

"You expect them to give your soldiers?’

‘One can hope they will, yes.’

He would suffer from a brutal deception. ‘Hope is fallible.’ Was all she could tell him when restricting the pity she had to spare. He was to marry the princess the other realms had ambitioned to have for themselves. Such a blow to their egos wouldn’t allow them to gift soldiers.

‘But not powerless.’ He breathed in, sounding like he was convincing himself of that.  

‘And we have yet to marry." Osha reminded him.

"That will be the easiest part of all this."

Were they in different circumstances, she would've swooned, but she knew he didn't mean it like that. He didn't love her, he didn't want her because he couldn't live without her.

Qimir wanted her for the weapon she would become.

"What are you?" She asked after a minute of silence. "I keep replaying it in my head. You pushed Yord to the ground with the kind of power I used in the room."

He was quiet, savoring her question and trying to figure out how to answer it. "You and I are not the same. Yet. I intend to help you so we can be equals in both power and status." Osha let him believe she bought his explanation. Qimir heard something she did not and stopped his horse. "Quiet now."

She followed his gaze to the shadows of the forest, engulfing them in dangers she couldn't even fathom. Osha wished she had her dagger. She needed the means to protect herself, not wanting to depend on him for every little inconvenience she came across.

"What do you see?" She whispered.

Qimir tilted his head, skeptical with the quiet of the trees. "I thought I had heard one of them." He murmured, signaling to his horse to keep on going.

"Where will we meet this other person? I hate to admit it, but I'm scared." Osha wanted to curl up in a ball and hide.

"Shush. Your babbling will attract demons." He warned her.

"I deserve to know who we're supposed to-" The rustling of leaves brought her to quiet down, a jolt tensing her against Qimir's body. "What was that?"

He let out his own despair. "Fuck this. We should hurry to the capital. He must be dead already-" A shadow lunged at them from the side, taking them down from his horse.

Osha hit the ground and got up disoriented as she searched for Qimir to find him struggling with one of the demons. His sword had fallen and gotten lost amidst the pile of dead leaves and Osha tried to find it only to resort to a thick log to hit the head of the creature and get it off him.

Qimir recovered with the stubbornness of a cat and twisted his hands to build up a force field strong enough to project the beast across the wide area and land against a robust trunk. ‘Dead he is.’ He stated with a hand disheveling his hair.

His horse was gone, no less frightened than Osha, who still clung onto the log. ‘So, there’s no one here to help us?’ She uttered, terror taking over her senses.

"You can drop that now.’ Qimir watched the log fall on the leaf-sunk ground. ‘How are you? Are you wounded?"

She shook her head. "And you? It tried to bite you."

"But it didn't. We should move, and fast. Without a horse, it will take more time and soon there will be more of them to hinder our journey. Fuck." He complained, rolling his left arm and mourning the loss of his remaining sword. ‘I think that fall was too harsh on me.’

Osha raised her skirt and glared at the path. She wanted to be gone from this hell as fast as possible. "Lead the way, sir."

He stared at her shoes. "This will be fun."

Osha snarled but followed him. She hated being exposed, always feeling like she had some creature hovering over her back. She dared not look, breathing in and out with each step she took forward.

They walked for what she assumed to have been an hour and some minutes. Her feet hurt and her legs felt heavier, swollen. If her pain wasn't enough, she was drenched in sweat and the corset squeezed her when she needed to breathe. Her fingertips were numb from holding the weight of her skirt and she had to rip the hem whenever it got stuck in a bush without any intention of setting itself free.

If Qimir was tired, he hinted at nothing.

It was when she was already dragging herself across the forest that she sat down on a rock and tried to ease the pressure in her limbs. "I can't walk. I'm melting." She let out, failing to find comfort in her rest. ‘I need to get off this dress, off these boots, off my legs!’

"Should I carry you?"

"No need to pretend you're a gentleman."

He chuckled. "You haven't seen anything yet." She watched him reach for her, pulling her arms over his shoulders from behind, willing to give her a hand if that meant they wouldn't have to spend another minute in that odd place. His hands found the back of her thighs and readjusted them around his torso, hopping before continuing their ill-fated walk.

On his back, she forgot who he was and let her head rest against his, grateful for having her weight off her legs and ankles. "God, that feels good."

They were silent for most of the way, muted by the lingering fear of drawing demons to them. She would have dared to speak from time to time were she not being carried by Qimir who, she imagined, needed his whole attention to coordinate his pace, her weight on his back and the obstacles he found in the track.

Her first impression of the wilderness was a terrible one, failing to see the beauty described in the stories she used to read. There was no magical glint, no divine creatures or a portal to a world of fantastic beasts. She grew tired of the tension hunching her shoulders and of the decaying green.

And as nighttime approached, the atmosphere became murkier, every shadow metamorphosing into a predator and they were their easy prey, believing to be safe as long as they kept moving.

Qimir stopped only once to rest before they reached an abandoned house lost in the middle of the forest, making Osha realize without much of a relief that she had spotted other houses somewhere in the path they had been following. They had been nothing more than just a pile of debris, and she couldn’t imagine what they had looked like in their own time. Grandiose? Humble? Cold? Rich? When reduced to rocks, none of it seemed to matter.

But by the sound of splashing water, denouncing the presence of a river running close by, she could imagine that this had once been a small village - back when the forest wasn't so untamed and when there was life within the small wooden fences delimiting properties.

Osha slipped to the ground and watched as Qimir pushed the hanging door open, taking it as his job to face any dangers that might jump at them from the deserted house. Luckily, it wasn’t substantial in size, so it took him only a few minutes to inspect it before telling her to go inside.

The house was untouched by time, only dust covering its every surface. Whoever lived here ran away without thinking they would never come back because their belongings awaited them inside as they had been left.

She walked around, grateful for the shelter but flinched the moment a piece of clothing landed on her face. "What is this?" She almost shouted.

"Didn't you hear it? There's water nearby. We must wash away the sweat and any blood left behind so not to become targets to these demons' scent. They like sweat and the vibrations fear exhumes."

"Is it safe to simply go into the river?" She asked, examining the clothing he had found her. It was a peasant dress, without a proper corset or fabric. She suspected an apron was amiss.

"I never heard of them living in water and water itself can't be contaminated. This is something that spreads through contact, through bites, scratches, and so on. Let us go now before it gets any darker." He went for the door and marched away.

Osha followed him out into a clearing bathed by the margins of the river. The current was fast upon the scattered rocks, making it louder in the quiet of the forest. That was when Osha noticed that not even birds sang from the crowns of the trees. They knew better than to be within these grounds.

She put down her things and turned to see Qimir undoing the laces keeping his clothes tight around him. His shirt fell to the rocky ground, revealing his sun-kissed but scarred skin. With quick movements, he went for his trousers, unfastening them without much of a warning.

If he thought she would look away, he was mistaken.

Osha contemplated that naked man before her. He didn't have the body of a prince, of a Lord. They tended to be careless, confident in the influence their names and titles possessed. Their looks mattered less than whether their wives and mistresses could find pleasure when in bed with them. Qimir, on the other hand, could proud himself of his strong back, arms and a firm stomach that she didn't focus on because his cock stole the show. It wasn't like any of those portrayed in paintings; it was the kind that demanded for attention and both women and men would want to try.

"Are you done ogling?" He pestered her, with a glance over his shoulder.

Osha met his gaze, certainly flushed but persistent in her defiance. "Just making sure this wasn't a total failure."

He laughed, shocking her. "If it pleases you..." And then he dove into the water.

She waited for him, sitting on the pebbles as he swam. It puzzled her how all of this was right on the other side of a wall she had seen countless times. Part of her had hoped for civilization, for people who would either greet her with warmth or bash her for being from Brendok. She wouldn't hold it against them; her queendom wasn't exactly innocent in the many bloodsheds staining history. Anything, from joy to animosity, had been more welcomed than the hopelessness of being in a vast forest inhabited by fiends.

Qimir left the river glistening like a jewel, the drops of water running down his body. He was stunning, head to toe. It was a shame that she couldn’t look past his crimes.

He put on his new clothes, old and dusty, and incapable of hiding his figure. "Do you need help?" He asked once covered.

She nodded and showed him the back of her corset. His fingers were skilled at it, and she couldn't help but question "Have you undressed many women before?"

"Yes.’ His honesty brought her to chortle. ‘I was never without a companion when I thought I was free of this burden of leading a kingdom. I spent too much of my time in flimsy moments, addicted to how they didn't last and convinced there was always another as replacement."

The corset was free, and she felt his fingers pushing it off her to drop it to the ground. Osha pretended she wasn't affected - the least she needed now was to be aroused by a man who had murdered her friend, who had carried her beneath his arm like she was something he could simply take away from the palace. Yes, she had agreed, but she had also told him that she had changed her mind and yet here she was. In the Rogue Lands, in the middle of nowhere.

She reached for her skirt and grabbed it so to pull it over her head. He chuckled, amused. "Ask your questions, my lord."

"Why did you remove your skirt like that?"

"Because I'm used to more elaborate gowns where I have to wear a crinoline and a petticoat. The last layer can only be put from above.' She explained, realizing she had done it to ignore the fact that it was her turn to be naked before him. Qimir stared down, lower lip between his teeth as if he was holding a remark from slipping. His eyes scanned her from her collarbones to her breasts, her stomach and the middle of her legs. She blushed at his straightforwardness. ‘Stop it.’

When he looked up again, he was smiling. "Just making sure this was the right choice."

"It was the only one you had." She replied, walking past him to the water in which she dipped her toe before daring to take a dive.

Osha welcomed the feeling of the water against her sticky skin and damp locks. She couldn’t remember the last time a quick bath had felt this good, and when she was inside the new dress, she was convinced that maybe she could win over the world. The blisters covering her feet, however, willed her back to her right mind.

Qimir had watched her the whole time and had helped her tie every loose lace of her new vestment. If she were to guess, she would say he was making sure his prize wasn't taken away from his grasp, keeping her under surveillance. She wouldn't dare run away; Osha was far too scared of encountering a demon and she wouldn't know the direction back to her queendom even if she tried very hard to recall the path they had taken.

But it also appeared that he was taking this time to think, to evaluate his options and trying to come up with a solution to their problems.

They were stuck in the forest without means of transportation and protection.

They were hungry and there was nothing to hunt.

They needed to reach the capital before they were intersected by another beast. What if their luck ran out and in the next attack one of them got hurt?

Night came only to haunt them further. They couldn't even light a fire to brighten the house while they waited for the sun to return to the sky. The heat persisted and Osha wanted something fresh to cool her down. She had taken for granted the lemonades, the cubes of ice she would melt in her mouth, the fans behind which she hid her smirks and silly faces. She had never thought she would miss those things.

Qimir wasn't immune to it either, bids of sweat decorating his hairline as he stared at the moonlight illuminating the room. The keenness in his gaze reminded her of devotees in mass, begging to whatever deity who happened to be listening to offer them guidance. Perhaps that was what they needed and, desperate as they were, anything seemed plausible.

They were lying down on the floor, where it was cooler, but Osha was sore, and everything felt wrong against her body. "I miss my bed." She confessed to no one even though Qimir was right there by her side. "How will we get out of here?" She turned to him, resting her head in her arms.

He didn't look at her when he answered, "They should come for us, but I might try something tomorrow to quicken the progress."

"What will you try?"

"Something that will function as a way of getting out of here and as a lesson about your magic. Can't believe I have to waste time here."

"Why wait? The faster we do this, the faster we get out of this hell. I won't be able to rest knowing there's a way-"

"I am tired. Magic feeds on people. Adding to that, we rode from your capital to my side of the wall and then I had to carry you for miles to get here."

"Tired enough that you are willing to sleep here?’ She would risk letting magic consume her to lowering her guard at the mercy of demons.

He turned his back to her and pretended to fall asleep within seconds. Osha scowled, sticking her tongue out at him confident now that he wasn't looking. She hated all this, but she hated even more how scared she was. She slid closer to him, keeping in mind that it was for the better to keep a bit of distance between them. Closing her eyes, she prayed for sleep to come to her fast, but she waited, and waited, her ears attentive to every noise.

What a hellish night , she thought, but at least tomorrow, we will be out of this cursed place.

Chapter Text

The following morning was to mourn the rest she didn't get. After spending the night waking up every hour to make sure she was still alive, Osha had to pretend she wasn't closer to passing out with fatigue than to understanding what Qimir was planning on doing. 

He was visibly tired too; she had heard him sigh multiple times throughout the night as if sleep had fled to leave him with his worries again. Yet, convinced they wouldn’t stay there another minute, he dragged them to a clearing where he rolled his sleeves, ready for something Osha wasn't truly aware of.

"So, what is this all about?" She asked, observing him with genuine curiosity. Osha wasn't so friendly with Qimir, but of one thing she had to agree with him (aside from all the others she did agree with him but refused to mention so as to not boost his ego): She wanted to know more about what exactly she had done in the palace and how it worked.

"Nature has a force in itself. Vibrations. You must have noticed them before. The wind brushing against leaves, heat at the horizon, the humming of falling snow."

"I have never seen snow. It falls on your side of the wall." She whispered, not wanting to disrupt his thinking but still feeling like adding that thought.

"That's a shame. It's beautiful, I can assure you that." He looked down at his hands. "And like nature, or as part of it, we have those vibrations too." Averting his eyes from an invasive thought, he focused on Osha. "From fear, to anger, lust. It's all energy you can manipulate - if you know how."

"And you're going to teach me that?" She tilted her eyebrow. It wouldn't be a lie if she told him she had yet to believe she wasn't the princess she had been her entire life. This magic she possessed hadn’t been there before or if it had been, she had never felt enough to make it more than just an itch she struggled to scratch.

"Yes. With my help, you’ll be able to sense it and make use of that force. Soon, you'll be able to do it by yourself."

"But how can this help us?"

He fought against the weariness gnawing at his body, pushing his shoulders to the back so he appeared more absorbed than he truly was. "Time shapes reality, places, through these vibrations too. If we can get a hold on them, we might be able to open a passage to where we want to go."

Osha had her doubts but who was she if not an inexperienced apprentice? She wouldn't be trying to find flaws in her master's reasoning.

"What do I do then? How do I see these vibrations of time?"

The moment his hand met hers, the world went motionless, as if they were stuck in a painting, a second disfigured into a minute and then two until it felt wrong. It tipped forward, sending a jolt across her body that made her clench, burning from within and the fire grew in intensity the more he elicited her for her magic.

"What... are you doing to me?" Osha asked between grunts, her body not hers anymore to command even though he had only his hand wrapped around hers.

"Let it go. You're holding it inside." Qimir spoke in her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing him out of it.

"I'm not... holding anything! Make... make it stop!" When she opened her eyes again, Osha wasn't seeing him in front of her; she was assaulted by flashing images of nature, the cracking of mountains, the freezing of the vegetation, the rain falling and sliding down a hill, the wind brushing against her locks and her dress, and she could swear she heard a lullaby - sang to her with each draft caressing her ears. The fire of the sun melting in an ocean she had never seen, the fizz of waves and the decaying of life -

"Let it go, Osha." She heard Qimir once more, but she continued to be lost in a twirl of life and death that she had never paid attention to. She could feel the energy of a lightning bolt striking her but not quite. The murmurs of rivers and the singing of birds. Butterflies feeding on blood and guts and the fervor of a kiss against her sweaty skin, the touch across her body stimulating the magic out of her.

"Osha, that's enough!"

And she breathed again, collapsing on the ground of the present moment. The waltz of the world left her like a wave would the shore, emotions adorning her frantic mind. She wouldn't forget what she experienced, and she feared to be lost in that haze if she tried it again.

His hands on her shoulders anchored to her senses. "Are you good?" He asked, genuine concern dripping from his question.

She nodded. "Perhaps this was too much."

"It was. I'm sorry. I should've anticipated the eagerness of your power to simply... let loose." He gathered her up from the ground and only then did she notice the rip, hovering over the dirt of the path. It hung in the air like a splash of paint on a canvas, glowing. In the center of the cut she could see the forest they had been lost in while ahead of it stood the endless pastures of the Rogue Lands, spotted by workers plowing the earth.

The cut through space stitched itself together, leaving only the trace of the magic behind to tell the tale.

"What... How did we.... When?"

"Those things you saw, it was when we passed the cut." He motioned to the fields. "Let us go now. More explanations will come when we are both rested." His words dragged in his mouth and before Osha anticipated it, he stumbled to the ground, unmoving.

"Qimir? No, no, no." Osha muttered to herself as she dropped to her knees, rolled him so he was facing the sky and pressed her ear to his chest to search for his heart. It was there, beating ever so slightly, worn out. She brushed his hair out of his face, tapping on his cheeks, urging him to wake up - part of her frightened by the sudden solitude of her condition. She knew nothing about the Rogue Lands, every history book and map in Brendok crossing them out as if the world dropped as in a never-ending cascade.

Not wanting to stay there out in the open, Osha grabbed him by his armpits and dragged him across the fields, the high grass concealing them in the endless green. Osha didn't have his strength; a princess had no use for it, so she took a mental note to work on it in case she found herself needing to drag a floppy man again.

"'S ‘appening here?" She heard from behind her and with a startle, she dropped Qimir and twirled around to see a disfigured man pointing an intimidating scythe at her.

"Please, sir! I need your help!" She pleaded, pressing her hands together and taking them to her lips. "I have Lord Qimir with me! Alert the guards! Call for help!"

The man obviously took her for a jester. Of course, he was a farmer. He worked all day without time to waste with the drama of the novelty. He wouldn't believe she had the prince, now King of their kingdom, in her hands, passed out like a drunken at the steps of a tavern.

"I only ask this one more time, deary. What did you do to that poor lad?" The scythe glinted, adding a final point to his threat.

Osha knew he wouldn't be of use so she outstretched her hand, as she had seen Qimir do before, hoping her magic would get him out of her way. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ She admitted, trembling with her own exhaustion. Now, imagine how foolish she looked when nothing happened, and they stood there, in silence, watching her harmless hand.

"What's that supposed to do, eh?" He asked, scratching his ear.

Osha closed her hand before opening it to look at her palm, as if it would tell her what she was doing wrong. "Good question indeed sir. But I saw him do it like this-" She tried again and this time a blow of air kicked the farmer to the back, landing a few meters away on a haystack. Osha recoiled, eyes wide with surprise. "Oh my god." She breathed at the thought of the worst.

But she had no time to mourn - and it had not been that strong of a blow. He could be alive, for all she knew. She hoped he was. Osha picked Qimir up again and pulled him into the farmer's wooden wagon, shaking her head when he was lying there like a dead man, and grabbed onto the steering wheel so as to take them both closer to the town where people would certainly know who he was, and everything would be handled.

She did not know for how long exactly she pulled the wagon, but the skin of her hands began to protest the wheel and blisters bled from the effort, the blood combining with the sweat drenching her.

At the edge of the closest town, she dropped the wagon and herself, too tired to pull it any further. She wanted to shout, to give up, to complain, but she whimpered instead because it was all her body allowed her to do.

"Miss! Are you alright?" A woman appeared in front of her, sticking her head between Osha’s face and the sky. ‘Oh, lords in heaven! Not another victim.’

"I... I have your prince." Osha swallowed, her dry throat hurting more than she could handle.

"My prince?" Then the woman glanced at the wagon and gasped, running towards a bell that reverberated across the town, calling everyone to the streets. Osha heard the commotion, heard the thundering footsteps followed by the sprint of hooves on the ground.

"A girl! She has Lord Qimir!" A man shouted at someone, and she had wanted to correct him for she was no girl, but strength failed her even when frustrated. A tap on her shoulder brought her to open her eyes. "She's alive!" They added and hurried to hurl her to their horses.

"Qimir..." She stammered, trying to look around to see if they were taking him too but her consciousness failed her, and she plunged into darkness.

**

She stirred from her sleep with the help of whispers around her. Forcing her eyelids open, the murmurs ceased, and she knew they were watching her. Two figures became neater as the blur in her vision dissipated, giving shape, form and identity to two girls: one white as a blank sheet, with deep blue eyes and fair hair. The other was like liquid sunlight, except for her green eyes. They contrasted with the dark walls enclosing them in a room as foreign to Osha as the situation she was in.

"Is she perhaps mute?" One of them, the one devoid of colour, asked between closed lips.

"No, she spoke in her sleep." The other replied but tilted her head to the side, confused as to why Osha did not speak.

"Hey! Miss! Are you awake? Can you hear me?" Osha quaked with how loud the blonde girl's voice was in her ears.

"Stop that! Let her recover." Their bickering told Osha they were far younger than they appeared to be. They reminded her of Mae, how they used to quarrel over everything and nothing, only for the sake of reminding the other that they existed together, in the same timeline.

For many years, Osha had hated that thought. Now, she wasn’t so sure she could be a separate person from Mae. Maybe they were meant to live as a set, and she had been a fool to think she could be independent.

Osha blinked some more before pushing herself straighter against the pillows behind her. "Who are you? Where am I?" She looked around again, seeing better that the walls were deep black, as if made of obsidian with its waves and reflections. Gilded lines embellished the joints of walls and ceilings, snaking to the rose surrounding the chandelier dangling at the center of the room.

She heard the tap of one of the girls' shoes as she reached for a string to ring a bell, followed by the unceremonious entrance of a line of maids that brought with them a tray of food, water, towels and clothes. Four of them hurried to the bathroom where Osha could hear water running.

"Where are we?" She asked again.

"At the Paramount Palace. You were brought in with our Lord." The other girl, whose hair resembled amber, answered while reaching for a glass in which she poured water before handing it to Osha who took it and sipped at the cold drink, half torn between trusting them and suspecting that they had an agenda against her.

‘Paramount Palace? Where is that?’ Osha gave back the glass to the girl, her nervous hands wanting to be free to push the covers from her so she could slip out of the bed and walk to the window where she had to close her eyes to adjust to the brightness before she could assess what stood beyond her.

‘It is in Kalatrium, or what you might call the capital of the Rogue Lands.’ The two girls joined her at the window at each side as if giving her time to digest the new information but never standing too far away, expecting her to pass out at any time.

‘Kalatrium? I had no idea the capital had a name of its own.’ Osha confessed, slightly ashamed of her lack of knowledge.

‘You’ll learn all about it once you are well enough. Now, please, sit and rest. It must have been one frightening journey.’ The two girls offered their help to guide her back to bed and she accepted only because the floor seemed to want to slip from under her feet.

‘We have never seen a princess before.’ The blonde one commented, her statement with an edge of excitement to it.

‘It was quite a surprising entrance. The council will want to talk to you.’ The other added as she pulled the covers so they were hugging Osha’s legs again.

‘The council.’ Osha echoed. ‘What do they need from me?’

The girls exchanged a look. ‘Well, they did advise Lord Qimir not to go to Brendok. He went anyway. They told him they would oppose his marriage to the heir to Brendok’s throne. And yet, here you are.’

‘I am not the heir.’ Osha sighed, struggling with a throbbing ache that she knew not the source.

‘Then who are you?’

‘A princess. Of Brendok. We are two. We are twins.’ She answered, flinching at the pang in her heart at the thought of her sister and Sol.

‘Oh.’ They let out in unison. ‘Well then, this is going to be interesting.’

‘This?’ She enquired, frowning.

Two knocks on the door warned Osha of what was about to come her way. She almost cursed, understanding why Qimir did it so often.

The council, consisting of four elder men, all dressed in dark robes, stood at the bottom of her bed, their faces denouncing a shared disapproval of Osha’s presence inside royal walls.

‘Perhaps you have something stronger than water?’ Osha muttered to the golden girl who shook her head, letting her know she would have to deal with those men as sober as the day she was born. ‘Fuck.’

Chapter Text

Her heart thundered in her ears, but she did her best to regard them with the dignified conduct she had been taught at the palace back in Brendok.

"Apologies, gentlemen. I'm afraid I have yet to be introduced." She said, fixing her posture the best she could when on a bed that wasn't hers, in sheets foreign to her, surrounded by strangers, some more threatening than others. She did not trust her legs to stand up on her own and she did not feel like holding onto the maids like they were crutches.

A bald man stepped forward, hands joined in the depths of the wide sleeves of a black robe fastened around his torso by a golden chain. "Forgive us for our manners but we heard you were awake.’

‘I am, as you can see, but I highly doubt it demands an entourage to invade my room in such a manner.’

‘Once again, I beg for your forgiveness. We came together because we were most eager to get to know you. We couldn't believe when it reached our ears that our Prince had come back alive from Brendok by the hand of a woman! Imagine our surprise when they said that that woman, his saviour apparently, was no other than the princess of Brendok."

"A princess." One of the maids corrected him.

The men turned to her, to the dark-haired girl standing by Osha's side, like they had only now registered her presence. "Pardon?" The bald man seemed confused.

"You said the princess but there are two. She's a princess of Brendok, Your Excellencies." She added a rushed curtsy at the end, wanting to make sure they knew she was not, in any way, trying to offend them.

Another man, this one blonde but tanned, older than the first and wrapped in what appeared to be leather, chuckled. "Of course! The Twins! A miracle in its own foundation."

"A miracle?" Osha had to hold herself from releasing a chuckle of her own. Where could a miracle fit in when all there was to it was sexual intercourse? But then it occurred to her that it was unusual for anyone to give birth to more than just one child and the oddity in it was a sparkle strong enough to start a fire on the reasons behind the existence of two people with the exact same – or almost the same - features.

"You see, in ancient times, twins were a representation of the human spirit. One the incarnation of all desires and sins. The other the embodiment of reason and virtue. All that is left for us to see is which one of the two Qimir chose, although I am convinced it is the former and not the latter."

Osha couldn't help but feel insulted and it took everything in her to conceal her resentment. "I believe ancient notions were born from ancient ingenuity. Let us not confound our thoughts with fears of what they couldn't explain."

"And you can?" The blonde man asked.

"Gentlemen, with all due respect, shouldn't you tell me your names and what brought you to this room without the presence of your prince now King? Forgive my confusion, but I do not know the customs of your land yet.”

The man in the black robe took the lead again. "I'm Claude, the head of the church. I have eyes in every town, to seek justice when the weak cannot ask for it themselves." Osha knew he was sugarcoating his duties, but she wasn't in the mood to argue with him when she was in clear disadvantage. He pointed at the blonde man who bowed. "He's Naerio, the Prince's Advisor in foreign matters."

"And an old acquaintance of his grace." The man added with a proud smile.

Osha nodded firmly. "I wouldn’t be wrong if I said you were the first to advise him against going to Brendok." 

"Do not take it to the heart. Above all, I care for our sovereignty. But you're here now and such discussions will come in due time."

Claude continued onto a smaller man whose face was partially covered by a thick ginger beard and equally thick brows. His name was Nykiri and he was responsible for the army, advising the king of the Rogue Lands on military advances, how to proceed in battle and how to train the recruits. He observed for he didn't seem like having anything to tell her except "Welcome to Kalatrium".

Osha couldn't wait to have time to ask him how he fought on the ground against those creatures. At her every thought of those beings, she was chilled to her bone, clinging onto her robe like it would be enough to protect her from their claws and maws.

Then it was a wrinkled and crooked figure's turn to be presented. The man watched her silently but with a gaze so dense, she immediately knew he would never be on her side no matter what. "This is Aysho Dawning, the prince's grandfather. He was part of the council when Qimir's parents were alive and back when the late king was yet a child, Lord Aysho stepped up as Regent."

"Why never king? Why Regent?" Osha asked, incapable of holding it in.

It was Aysho who spoke, raising a shaking hand that held Claude's tongue. "I was commanded to be so. I was the remaining living member of the family after they succumbed to a disease. I was left to protect Lord Qimir's father and reign until he was of age to take control. You must be familiarized with the concept of it."

This man was out for blood, but if Osha was grateful to Qimir for anything, it was for having given her the opportunity to grow a backbone capable of dealing with such obduracy. She thought of those days with Qimir as preparation for the treatment she would get on his side of the wall. 

"Did you do that with Qimir too? Assume the role of Regent?" 

"I did not have to. Prince Qimir was trained all his life for this position and even when he was distracted by the beauty of life and freedom, he had his parents. He had the discipline, the knowledge, the age to fulfil his destiny when Death seized the King and the Queen.’ The man said. ‘Humans, princes and peasants alike, crave for control, fooling themselves into thinking they can change everything about what is written in the stars. They want a different flavor from what they usually have, but they always return to their origins, to the path they were meant to follow, to the stability of what is known and predictable."

The way they held each other's attention, she knew he was telling her Qimir had brought her in an act of rebellion against life itself and that he would soon come to his senses. It was not late for him to do that, but it was late for Osha to return to her old self. She had no place to get back to, she feared.

A knock on her door warned them of the arrival of a new guest and Osha almost cursed at the thought of another pair of eyes here, scrutinizing her in the hope of finding all her flaws so they could kick her out. She knew being from Brendok was already enough to make everyone uneasy, but they dared not go against Qimir which was a good sign. At least for what she could assess.

Qimir, as if knowing she had been thinking about him, stormed into her room and crossed his arms at the four figures standing like perched vultures around Osha's bed. 

"Is this how we demonstrate hospitality? Terrorizing a guest by standing in her room like lost souls?" Qimir stood opposite to Osha, making it feel like they were enough to outmaneuver these four men who tensed under the weight of Qimir's displeasure.

Osha was relieved to see a familiar face and that she was no longer their target. 

It was Aysho who addressed the prince. "You are out of your mind."

"Perhaps." 

"Where is the army you said she would bring us?" Naerio added with Nykiri watching at his side. 

"You were talking to the army." Qimir said, pointing at Osha and bringing her back to the unpleasant spotlight.

"He really is out of his damned mind." Naerio breathed. "She is a girl!"

"A woman." Qimir raised his finger, hating how his old acquaintance addressed her as if she were a child. Osha was starting to let her headache grow deeper and wider, spreading across her body. "She possesses great power-"

"Qimir, I need you to think of your actions! Where is the army?" Nykiri pressed.

"I've told you. She is the army." 

Osha grunted, taking a trembling hand to her head. At her side, the two maids who had been with her since she had opened her eyes to see that room tensed at her indisposition. "I need quiet." Osha mumbled but the men in the room were too deep in their argument to care.

"She's a woman! What will she do on a battlefield? And are you willing to put her there when she is to give you an heir?"

"How did you take her from Brendok? They wouldn't simply accept you and your proposal."

"What were you thinking? Brendok has a reason to attack us now if they claim you abducted her! We don't need more problems!"

"Enough!" Osha commanded, loud and charged with the power she now wore at the first layer of her skin. The adornments clung and shook, the ground threatening to come undone along with the walls and ceilings from which dust rained upon the seven other people inside that chamber. Quiet returned but with a shocking revelation.

"How does she possess this power?" Claude enquired.

Qimir shrugged but they were not looking at him. Everybody was staring at Osha whose headache softened. "Does it matter? I have only to train her, and we will have these demons out of our borders in an instant!" The promise in his words brought the four men to loosen up in their discontentment. "But before that, we have to get married." Qimir added.

"Preparations. It will take time but not long. Invitations sent. Hopefully good gifts such as-

"-Warriors." Added Nykiri with a grin.

Claude nodded. "Yes! There is much to be done!" 

"So, let us get to work and quit littering my betrothed’s room. She needs rest." The advisors bowed to Osha, wishing her the speediest recovery, eager to know what she could do when not confined to her room and her fatigue. 

Qimir followed them, halting at the door when Osha said "A moment, please."

They watched as the maids scurried out of the room and Qimir closed the door behind their backs. "Do you need anything?" 

Osha clutched the bed sheets. "I... Are you aware this is all new to me?" 

"I am." He answered silently, remaining closer to the way out than to her new bed.

"The only thing familiar to me aside from my own figure is... you." She sulked, hating herself for telling the truth. "And you passed out on me in the middle of nowhere and I- I didn't know what to do and I was so, so tired and everyone was a stranger to me, and I was a stranger to them which made me feel so-" 

"Verosha, breathe." He rushed to the side of her bed at the sight of her drowning in the apprehension she had kept tamed when in the presence of people she would have to charm if she wanted to survive in the Rogue Lands, in Kalatrium.

"Are you aware of my circumstances? I cannot return." She stated, feeling him reach for her arms because she was gesticulating, fighting every draft that brushed against her. "You might have somewhere to go back to, someone to go back to, but I have only the path ahead!" 

"One conversation with my council and you're already making things up?" Qimir watched her as Osha grew redder with both anger and frustration. 

"I am not making things up! Don't make me sound delirious or hysterical for worrying about myself!" 

"Verosha, the only person who must worry about you is me because I depend on you. My kingdom depends on you. I need you to stay sane. Rest and tomorrow, I will show you everything, so you don't feel like you're surrounded by a never-ending haze."

"Why should I rest? You should rest! You were the one who passed out!" 

Qimir nodded, biting his lower lip to hide a smile trying to find its way to his face. "I have rested enough. Do you know how long we've been here?" 

"Hours?" It seemed so.

His hand fixed the sleeve of her robe so it would settle properly on her shoulder. "You've been unconscious for three days."

"Three... Three days?" She almost shot out of the bed. It explained why her legs felt so heavy, hard, so unwilling to do their job. That also explained the maids.

"I told you that power feeds on you. What matters is that you woke up." Qimir patted her joined hands before slipping from her touch. 

"Where are you going?" She asked, not used to seeing him part ways with her after those days in the forest when they had fought – endured together to survive.

"I have my duties. As you will have yours. Today, you rest. Tomorrow, you'll be given a tour of the palace, to get to know the grounds, and where to go. You'll join me in a meeting so we can introduce you formally."

Osha still felt as if she were in the forest, reduced to helpless prey that could be devoured at any time, by anything. Qimir stared at her, waiting - wanting - a reaction and she couldn't give him more than just pretense. She would master the art of pretending she was fine, that she could handle everything coming her way. Right now, she was feigning to be better than what she had been a few minutes ago. 

"See you tomorrow, then." She said, hoping she had sounded stricter than before.

He nodded and took a step backwards before turning and making way to the door that closed with a quiet click, leaving her alone with the panic bubbling from the depths of her chest.

She has never been this alone before.

She had never been this lost before.

And she would have to do her utmost to fit in, so Qimir had no reason to kick her out. 

Suddenly, wanting to know what stood beyond the walls of Brendon seemed a foolish dream and her hunger for more than the life Sol had wanted to give her felt unreasonable, dangerous and twisty.

Chapter Text

Qimir’s POV

            He rubbed his face, listening to Claude’s and Naerio’s back-to-back conversation regarding the invitations they would be sending to several foreign leaders. Qimir couldn’t focus, no matter how hard he tried. His mind would slip from the present moment, diverging from their voices to Verosha’s asking - pleading - for his time. When he opened his eyes, the council room, with the wide map of the known world and the flickering lights, vanished to show him her face, the conviction and haughtiness gone, overtaken by the unavoidable fear of her new circumstances. In that room, she looked nothing like the princess who had tried to threaten him with a dagger she had kept hidden inside her sleeve.

            ‘You might have somewhere to go back to, someone to go back to, but I have only the path ahead!’

            ‘My Prince, are you listening?’ Naerio snapped him out of his reverie.

            ‘Yes.’

            ‘Honesty, my lord.’ His old friend Naerio muttered under his breath.

            ‘Then, no, I was not.’ Qimir melted against the back of his chair, knowing Aysho would frown at such a floppy sight. Luckily, Aysho was not present, busied with additional problems he created in his aged head. The prince was exhausted of meetings, of fearing, of having the weight of the world upon his shoulders but alas, this was all bigger than him and the moment he put on his father’s crown, Qimir had left his identity behind to be the kingdom. ‘Do repeat.’

            ‘I was talking about your betrothed’s queendom. Should we invite Regent Sol and the other princess?’

            ‘Her name is Mae. And yes, send the invitation.’ Claude exchanged looks with Naerio. ‘What? What does that mean?’

            ‘My prince, I simply think it wouldn’t be wise to have them here-‘

            ‘Princess Verosha will grow homesick. She already fears that I might regret my decisions and that I might throw her back to Brendok knowing that her decisions damaged beyond repair her bond with both her sister and her master. Before they accuse me of abducting one of their princesses, I think it would be wise to prove we hold no one against their wishes and that they needn’t plot against us for they are welcome as long as Verosha wants them here.’ Qimir was nauseous at the thought of having their enemies of flesh and bone crossing the walls they themselves raised but it was necessary to show they meant no bloodshed, that they would accept them and would even appreciate if they took what was happening in the Rogue Lands seriously. Maybe they would after seeing that Verosha would stay here for the rest of her life.

They wouldn’t be so cruel as to completely cut ties with her… Or would they?

            ‘I will send it then.’ Naerio said it hesitantly, like giving Qimir time to reconsider.

            ‘She seemed well. It is a blessing. Three days unconscious made me wonder if she would ever wake up.’ Claude confessed, sounding relieved as he watched a maid pour wine into their empty glasses.

Qimir did not say a word, but he had plenty cramming his mind at the thought of her passed out on that bed, tended by Laysa and Rosane whose duty became to press dump towels around her neck and head when they feared the slight fever she nurtured in her first night in his palace to grow in severity. Only those two maids, who swore to keep it between them, knew Qimir had paid a visit to an idle Verosha every day, hoping his presence would annoy her enough to awake her from her slumber.

Seeing Verosha like that had made him relive his days and nights by his parents’ decaying bodies, their minds aware of the death taking them inch by inch every day until they shut down to never open their eyes again. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps he should rest instead of pretending that everything was below him, that he could handle it all even when those three days and two nights had been spent with him entertaining his mind so it wouldn’t wander to the possibility of him having lost his fiancée before he had even the chance to kiss her.

Yet, Verosha proved herself to be more stubborn than Qimir and woke up on the one day he hadn’t had the time to pay her his usual visit while her maids tended to her.

It had taken everything in him not to explode with his ministers when he heard that she was up and was being interrogated by his council. Qimir had only ran as fast as he had to her room when they told him of his parents’ demise.

And it had taken everything in him not to hug her and tell her that he was glad she was awake. Especially when she looked at him, like she would crumble if he touched her more than he usually dared to.

It wasn’t love; it was his sense of responsibility. The moment she agreed with his plan, agreed to follow him and help him by risking so much of what she had, Qimir swore he would be responsible for her well-being. He owed her more than he could put into words for his kingdom and its future was no simple matter. It could not be repaid with a beer, with a night of empty promises as he had done more times than his pride allowed himself to say.

To see her like that, it was like the universe was telling him that he would fail. At keeping her safe, at giving her what he promised her, at saving the legacy of his family but more importantly of his parents. To fail them after their deaths hurt more than if they were alive because it felt like they watched him, knew him and heard him, but he could never tell them straightforwardly how much he was giving of himself, how much he was putting in line for their memory. He either succeeded or failed, there was nothing in between.

But then, she was awake, stressing over things he had no intention of doing. He wouldn’t return her for she was not a horse or a sword he could send back without repercussions. He knew everything they had done since his first greeting at her sister’s throne room had a consequence and that they would have to face them together.

            ‘They were not lying about their beauty.’ Naerio sipped his wine, tilting his head to the side. ‘She is stunning.’

Qimir opened his mouth, but it was Claude who spoke. ‘How is the sister?’

            ‘They are alike but different at the same time. Princess Mae is ruthless. Princess Verosha is too but she dreams.’ Qimir was rotating the glass on the table, using it to avoid looking at Claude and Naerio. ‘She wanted to see the Rogue Lands. She wanted to see the world. And she might be disappointed now because I have brought her to a new prison.’

            ‘This is no prison.’ Claude commented, gravely, as if saddened by Qimir’s statement.

            ‘And I can assure you that plenty of those behind bars would love if prison was a quarter of what this place is!’ Naerio added, but when none of the other men laughed, he let his smile die and chugged the rest of the wine.

            ‘I do not mean that she will be stuck here. Sure, while the plague ravages our borders, I have no alternative other than keeping her indoors, but once we are free of this hellish curse, she will be bound to this land by her duties as queen. Would a queen leave her land, her husband, to go see the world she has never been given the opportunity to discover?’

Claude came to Qimir’s side and let a hand rest upon his shoulder. ‘My prince, if it is of any use, my advice would be to not worry about what has yet to happen. Our Lord works in mysterious ways, and He will guide you both when time comes for it.’

            Naerio intervened. ‘Do you plan to tell her? About your findings?’

            Qimir got up from his chair, decided to put an end to this meeting. ‘I do not think it is the time for it. Let her rest, let her master this new environment. Once she is steadier, I will tell her. For now, I want her to focus on her powers.’

            Naerio frowned. ‘She deserves to know it. Her life has been a lie-’

            ‘And for that same reason, I will wait until she is ready to hear it. I won’t tell her that her master ordered her mothers to be executed and framed a little boy and an entire nation for his crimes when her wounds with her sister are still fresh!” Qimir almost shouted, overwhelmed by the recent events in his life and how exhausted he was. He needed to sleep, he needed to shut off his thoughts and to keep Verosha’s face from his mind. But a Rogue King did not have time to retire early and lay on his bed waiting for sleep to seize him. ‘It would destroy her. And she wouldn’t believe me. Who am I to her if not a stranger with whom she has business? This is all it is.’ Pressing his nose bridge, Qimir took a step away from the table where his wine remained in his glass. ‘I will trust you to keep it a secret. Do not tell her anything. Do not even hint at it. I will deal with this matter. See that you send the invitation to Brendok and the other nations. Also, the princess will need gowns to wear and a wedding dress. Make sure you bring the tailor to her room tomorrow so she can have her measures taken.’

‘What will you do now?’ Claude asked as he watched the prince turn his back to them.

‘Nykiri asked me to join him as he trained the new recruits. I will show them what they are supposed to do once they are face to face with those creatures.’ And take it as an opportunity to clear his mind.

Qimir marched out of the room, his day soured after the reminder that he was not quite done yet with obliterating what Verosha knew of life and the world around her. There was still one thick foundational pillar in need to be struck and he hated to be the one to wield the hammer that would bring it down. He would seek justice, for his people and for the little boy they murdered in Brendok when he and the prince decided to prove all the grown-ups wrong and invaded the foe. They had succeeded and had even gotten inside the palace, having a glimpse of the twin sisters who were charming and different while alike. Now that Qimir thought about that day and night, he couldn’t help but let out a derogatory chuckle at the realization he had been awestruck by Verosha. The universe had a liking for all things ironic.

‘Which one of them will rule?’ His friend Nisheru had asked in a whispered voice as they hid in between curtains and behind sculptures.

Qimir, clouded by his innocence and admiration, had stared at Verosha’s younger version. ‘She will. Mother says you can see on a person when they are meant to serve the nation.’

‘But Qim, they look exactly the same.’

Qimir had shaken his head. ‘No, they don’t.’

But their adventure ended in blood, in war, and Qimir had survived because Nisheru had taken the bullet for him and urged him to flee after having witnessed – and being caught witnessing - Sol killing both Brendok’s queens in their quarters.

The truth would be known, and he could only hope Verosha would believe him, that she would seek her sister and, together, fix what Sol had ruined.

The time when Brendok and Rogue Lands could have been one whole nation.