After talking to Willum and signing the agreement between our two kingdoms, I went to the dining area to eat with my soldiers. However, when I sat down to eat, the conversation surrounding me went quiet. No one made eye contact with me, either. I tried to make eye contact with a few I knew well, but those soldiers gave me a polite smile, then looked away.
It was so painfully awkward that I took my dinner to my tent. I blocked out the whispers and murmurs from the soldiers I passed. The ones that permeated my mental walls hit me square in the chest.
Emotional wounds were so much harder to heal than physical ones.
The silence in my tent was as deafening as a horn blasted in my ear. Normally I held meetings in my tent throughout the day. There was always someone who was looking for my guidance. The bottle of liquor my soldiers had given to me as a celebration of one year serving as Grand General sat on my desk. It looked like someone had taken a few sips from it. It could be poisoned, but I was willing to take the risk. I just needed something to take the edge off.
About a quarter of an hour after gulping down a few mouthfuls, my senses became fuzzy and I returned to my cot after stripping down to my shorts and bralette. I didn't even care if the camp was attacked in the night — suffering the shame of battling in my underwear was worth the risk. My underwear was so much more comfortable.
As my tent darkened with the setting of the sun, I fell into a light slumber. When I drank, I fell asleep quickly, but always woke in the middle of the night. I was fine with that. At least if I woke in the night I could spend my time alone without anyone to speculate whether I was hiding out of defeat. I was, but I didn't want anyone to know that.
I had been awake for about an hour, not feeling anything but dread. It settled in as a damp cold did, chiling me to my bones. My mind lazily wandered between the same three sources of dread — my sister's inevitable punishment, Baruuk's inevitable manipulations, and the knowledge that it could be years before I saw Cisco again. Random shooting pains in the form of memories of my soldiers rejecting me when I emerged from my tent wracked me throughout the night.
I was fading in and out of awareness when I heard a faint rustling of the curtains in my tent. My instinct was to reach out with my mind and sense what was happening when I couldn't see. But if there was someone entering my tent, as I suspected there was, I didn't want to alert them to my knowledge that they were there. An irrational part of me hoped to see Cisco sneaking into my tent, as we'd snuck into each other's rooms when we were younger. But that was impossible. I was positive he was being kept under constant guard.
I draped my arm over the side of my cot and my hand instantly felt the cool hilt of my sword. I kept it under my bed for these exact situations. I had never had to use it for this purpose. Maybe it was Cisco after all.
I saw the glint of metal as three figures stepped into my cramped sleeping quarters. My heart lurched in my chest when the light from outside the tent reflected my legion's distinct armor — the segmented armor and chainmail.
A wild hope raced through me. Maybe they were there to secretly offer their support.
But when the glint of a pole arm reflected in the moonlight, I knew that was not the case. I laid on my side, gripping my sword tightly. As the halbred dropped toward my neck, I stopped its momentum with the swing of my own sword. As my eyes glowed white, I saw the whites of my attacker's eyes as they widened in terror.
"I thought you gave her the sleeping draught," one of my attackers hissed. The soldier holding the halbred panicked as his arms were frozen in place — held in my mind's vice-like grip.
"Poisons don't affect me," I spat. "Who are you?" I knew all of my legion's soldiers by name, and I didn't recognize any of my attackers. "And how did you get my legion's armor?" The soldiers of my legion defended their armor with their life. For them to wear my legion's armor, meant they had died defending their honor and mine.
Another sword arced downward, though I couldn't make out the person who weilded it. But I felt them. I grabbed all three bodies and crushed their hands. I clamped their mouths shut with my mind to stifle their screams, so that they leaked out of their lips as groans. The halbred dropped from my attacker's hand and I caught it deftly with my own.
As I swung my legs over my bed I swung the halbred at the person who had attacked me with it and lobbed off his head. My control over the other two was complete. The only signal of their autonomy was their whimpers as their accomplice's head landed with a thud on the grass. I held the halbred to one of the other attackers' necks. He was a wizened older man, which was another indication that he was not part of my legion. My legion was all under age thirty-five.
"Who are you?" I hissed. "Sharlot's men? Baruuk's?"
"You're too dangerous to be left alive," he groaned. "Even now, you killed my friend when he was defensless." He was right. None of them could defend themselves with broken hands, but I hadn't even hesitated to murder his accomplice. I was powerful enough that I didn't need to resort to murder to protect myself. Maybe I was too dangerous to be kept alive. Deep within myself a version of me that was usually silent screamed, "If you are too dangerous to live, so is Baruuk!"
"You think Baruuk is any better?" I growled. "He has controlled even someone too dangerous to be kept alive her whole life." The older man's eyes widened. "I could have leveled Quantum Fortress."
That was an exaggeration. I was pretty sure I would be capable of leveling the fortress, but it would take long enough that Sharlot could easily evacuate her soldiers.
"I could have walked into Quantum Fortress and killed each of her soldiers in their sleep without laying a finger on them." With my power of healing, I could sense his pulse quicken even from a distance. "And you think you can sneak into my tent and behead me in my sleep?"
I was so sick of being controlled, sick of being underestimated, even by myself. The fact that they thought they could kill me in my sleep was insulting. And they were cowards to do it in my sleep rather than face me in the light of day.
Letting them walk away unpunished wasn't an option. I thought of the glances my soldiers exchanged when I walked by them earlier that day. I could hear their whispers as I passed them by.
"She was the prince's puppet just as much as she's Baruuk's," they murmured, their glares disapproving.
"All of that power wasted," another said.
"A mighty general reduced to a lovesick little girl," another said.
"She's grotesque," another hissed to her friend. "As if the prince could ever fall for her."
"She's pathetic."
"She isn't capable of having a single independent thought."
For as many insults that had been whispered as I passed, I recieved just as many silent nods of respect and secret salutes. The insults were hard to ignore, but I couldn't let them get away with whispering those lies among themselves. They would never take me seriously.
It wasn't even about seizing the throne anymore. It was about preserving my dignity, and forging a legacy for myself that Baruuk hadn't destined for me. When people saw me as soft and weak, they took advantage of me. They vilified me, just as those citizens had done when I'd tried to spare the man who shot me all those years ago. If I allowed word to spread that these pathetic excuses for soldiers attempted to assassinate me and I let them walk away, I'd be targeted for years to come.
I spat back the words I'd heard echoed in the camp at these soldiers, as if they'd been the ones to utter them. "You're just as much Baruuk's puppet as I am, except you will never be strong enough, or capable of the independent thought needed to overthrow him. I will." As I held their bodies in place with my mind, I drew the halbred back. "Too bad you won't be alive to see it."
In two swings, their heads were separated from their bodies, and all three of them fell to the ground. My breathing labored and my mind still fuzzy from sleep, I allowed myself a moment to reorient myself. I was the Grand General of the Calidonican army, sword and shield of the crown, Baruuk's slave, and Hetty's inept protector. But I would be none of those things anymore.
I stumbled backward into my cot and nearly tipped over the other side. Blood drenched my bare feet where it had pooled in the grass and was splattered all over my bare skin. I felt the familiar feeling of detaching from myself, but I fought it with all my strength. Escaping my body to avoid the pain of this moment was not an option. I needed to feel every stab of betrayal, because they would drive me to do what I needed to do to assert myself as someone no one should risk crossing.
A few minutes later, I rinsed my feet off in my wash basin after splashing water on my face. The blood on my skin was sticky as I dressed in my uniform and then strapped on all of my armor. How I presented myself to my soldiers was essential to how they would treat me in the morning.
I no longer cared about being supported out of admiration or respect. I wanted to be feared. That was how Baruuk controlled the people, and it was highly effective. I had questioned his methods for so long. There were times when instilling fear into the people would not serve my purpose, but it was absolutely called for then.
An hour later, I had created a harness of rope and tied it around my attackers' bodies. With my abilities I swung the rope over the highest branch the rope could reach on a dying, leafless tree. I wanted to hoist them up with the strength of my body. There was something so satisfying about feeling the ache in your muscles after you'd accomplished a great physical feat.
As the sun ascended into the sky, the vivid colors of the sunrise illuminated the three headless bodies hanging from the lifeless tree. Their heads laid on the ground beneath their bodies, and I sat in the tree's branches above it all.
As the camp stirred, and soldiers from my legion and Baruuk's army exited their tents, not everyone noticed my display immediately. However, eventually each head turned in my direction. People gathered with swords raised to assess the threat, but once they saw me, they dropped their swords and gaped at the sight before them.
Soldiers slowly gathered in front of the tree. Sanna cut through the crowd and stood between me and my former soldiers. She looked furious, but I couldn't tell if she was furious with me or with the soldiers who had attacked me.
I pushed myself onto my feet, standing on the sturdy bough beneath me, and steeled myself for whatever response my words evoked.
"I am not weak, and I am not one to be controlled. Not by you, not by the prince, and certainly not by the king." Sanna's glare hardened, teasing a mirthful grin. "Forget that, and it will cost you your life."
The camp was completely silent. Most people gaped in shock at what I'd done. And then, one by one, the soldiers knelt on one knee and pressed their fists to their chests, bowing their heads. Sanna was one of the last standing, but when she knelt, her pride was plain to see.
I jumped from the bough and somersaulted when I hit the ground to soften my fall. As I walked toward the crowd, soldiers made a path for me to cut through them.
On the edge of the crowd, as I headed toward the corral to find Buzzard, I passed Cisco. I had seen him, standing a full head over the rest of the crowd, but didn't acknowledge him as I passed. I couldn't allow the people to see me pay him any attention, lest I undermine everything I'd just done.
His arms were bound behind him, but as he passed, he bowed at the waist and gave me a wink. It pleased me more than I'd ever admit that he didn't look at me with derision for what I'd done. In fact, it seemed my actions garnered more of his admiration.
My smirk grew as I walked through the camp. Those who hadn't seen what I'd done shuddered at the sight of my smile. They'd probably never seen me smile. It must have been eerie because they pulled their fists to their chest in salute.
What I had done was gruesome and brutal, but if that was how I would free myself of Baruuk's clutches, I would be gruesome and brutal. Then, once I took the throne, I could be anything I wanted to be.
I was excited to see who I would be when that happened.