Ash rained the night the soldiers descended.

'Run, Vi.'

Ilian, the Valnesian capital, had always been a haven of green, despite the decade-long embargo at their borders and the suffocating droughts forced by the imperial mages.

'One of us should live.'

Now, it burned with the fiery intensity of a faux sun, as if to make up for how the clouds blocked any illumination that might have come from the ash-hidden, twin moons.

'One of us needs to live.'

Soldiers' torches stole any remaining shadows, allowing them to drag maids and scullery boys from their hidden corners to toss amongst the rest of the screaming innocents in her ears. They felt distant, however. As if a barrier had fallen between her and them, something impassible.

Her soaked skirts weighed more heavily, somehow, in the grand scheme of things. The screams, ache of her shoulder that had likely dislocated when she'd fallen down the tower stairs in desperation, the fact she could barely breathe past the scent of burning flesh that caked her lungs--that was nothing. The dress soared above them all.

'I love you.'

Whose blood was being spread across the courtyard as she was dragged for all to see? What of her hands? As the man tossed her to the emperor's feet, forcing her to catch herself lest she crumple before him, whose blood was it that left prints near his pristine boots? Her maid's? Their enemies'?

She could still feel the pulse of Mary's artery as she tried, uselessly, to stem the flow with her own fingers. See the preteens smile, remember how her hand had slowly dropped. Hear their attacker's gasping breaths as he struggled to draw air through bloodied lungs.

'I love you so much.'

She shoved her hands against the stone in an attempt to hide her trembling. Before she could stand, the soldier seized her hair. His grip held her on her knees, head down. The pain grounded her mind, allowing her to use the one resource the soldier had left her--her eyes.

And so, she lifted them with impudence to gaze upon the emperor who razed her nation.

Ranese Dia Amon--the third of his line--looked like a demon made flesh.

Falling embers cast an eerie glow across the man's glistening armor. Like her, his clothing appeared encased in a tide of crimson. It suited him, as it matched his burning ruby eyes. Hair the shade of soot hung to his shoulders in loose, bejeweled locks. Helpless rage tore through her, threatening to steal what little strength she had left. Afterall--the simple decoration proved how little respect Ranese held for her and hers.

No general went to war with precious gems in his hair.

He didn't say a word as she stared. Instead, Ranese simply met her eyes with his own heavy gaze. When seconds burnt into minutes, the soldier cleared his throat.

"She's suspected nobility, Sire, and I heard that you ordered any potentially of the LaVara bloodline to be brought to you. We found her in the queen's palace."

The monster raised a brow. "The second?"

"The first."

His attention fell to her with more interest than before. "The first queen is dead."

She spat at him. Flames ignited his eyes, but he didn't step back.

"Her daughter was said to live," the soldier explained. "And I heard a maidservant call her Letta."

"Ah," Ranese murmured, then turned to a soldier behind him. Icy fear took her spine. "My sword."

No one in the slow forming crowd said a word as his attendant stepped forward to supply the requested blade. Nor did they protest as he leveled the weapon at her throat. Bitterness crept past her rage.

Some of the faces mixed amongst the soldiers were ones she recognized. Now, at least, she knew how little value a half-blood bastard held for them. Then again, what should she have expected from traitors who sided with the empire?

Violetta had said there must have been a reason for the lack of alarm.

"I believe this kingdom allows for female succession, does it not?" Ranese questioned.

She didn't respond. What was the point? The answer lay in the way his weapon kissed her neck.

"...I'll have it recorded that Princess Violetta did not flinch in the face of death, but rather met it with the courage of a ruler."

Ranese drew back his blade, readying what she hoped would be a clean execution. The enchanted stone embedded in the hilt of his blade cast an almost demonic glow along the length of his arm.

I won't look away, she promised herself. Let him remember my eyes. I hope they haunt him.

He swung.

"Wait!"

Her arms threatened to give out beneath her as the cry paused the emperor's blow. Pain stung her throat as blood rolled down from the barest of cuts, speaking volumes about his control. Had the emperor been any less skilled her head would have been facing the sky regardless of intention.

A new soldier emerged from the crowd, their chest heaving with exertion.

"Princess Violetta threw herself from the tower! A Valnessan priest identified her blood. That woman is not the first princess."

If the soldier's fingers weren't still tangled in her hair, she would have collapsed as the world seemed to fall from beneath her knees. A knot choked her throat, filling her lungs as disbelief tangled with fact.

Why?

You promised me, her heart silently screamed. What was the point of this if you were going to throw it all away?

She'd sent Violetta away. She'd pushed her down the stairs towards the escape herself. If she was going to turn around and climb the tower...

What was the point? Why had she fled through the tower to tempt the soldiers into a chase? Why had she let herself be caught? Been dragged here? Why had Mary died?

Why was she looking into this monster's face without a blade to sink into his throat?

A useless scream built in her chest, full of anger, betrayal, grief, and too many emotions to name or even begin to breathe into understanding.

Ranese's unsettling eyes swept her from head to toe as each thought spun through her, lingering on every identifier she bore: her irises, the gray of her bloodline; her hair, the black of maids; then, the old, ugly scar that cut across her jawline. She didn't need to read minds to know what he was thinking--no crown princess would look so common. Perhaps he was cursing his previous oversight. Or, perhaps he was stupid.

One could dream.

"You reported the maid called her Letta,'" he asked the first soldier. "Are you certain? Or could it have been Lotte?'"

She flinched.

Smugness curled the emperor's lips as the soldier stammered his uncertainty. The tip of his blade forced her chin further up. Whatever he read in her heated expression, then, must have satisfied him, because he lowered his weapon within the second. The glow of his hilt faded.

"Throw Princess Charlotte in with the rest of the luggage. I promised Mother I'd bring home at least one of their cursed blood. I imagine the infamous bastard will do as well as anything."

A/N: First chapter of the Edit! I hope you enjoy~ I'm going to try for posting two chapters a day at least. Better goal is three. Wish me luck!