Twenty Years Later

A jolt shrieked up my arm as the swords thwacked. I scampered back to adjust my form and flipped my blade around to meet the next blow.

My opponent grinned down at me. The evening sun etched sinister shadows over his pale face and flickered across the jagged pink scar zigzagging from his eyebrow to his jaw. When he stalked toward me, his hulking form blocked out the light. Staring up at his face, I recognized the intent in his expression... 

Too late to stop him.

"So, I was thinking," he said.

I puffed a noisy sigh. "Goddess, not again."

Dust billowed beneath our feet at the courtyard's center as I lunged and swung my blade. He twisted his sword around to parry, biceps swelling to the size of my head.

"Epsa, hear me out—this one is a winner!" Despite his ten years in Rakim, his voice still carried the choppy harshness of the northern tribal states. 

"Fine, Pim. Tell me."

"So, three warriors set out to rescue a princess from an island surrounded by Paksha She Monsters." Clack, clack, step-step-step, clack. "And the three men—"

"Why are the warriors always men?"

"I'm just being realistic."

I thrust the blade toward his chest, and he staggered back a step to block the blow, wheezing. When I retreated to allow him to catch his breath, he planted his fists on his thighs and slouched.

"Epsa, you do realize"—gasp—"you are the only woman"—gasp—"in the Royal Guard."

"That's because girls grow up hearing stupid stories where the warriors are all men."

He rolled his eyes. "Alright, imagine the three warriors are women. May I continue?"

"I don't suppose I can stop you."

"So, the first warrior falls to a storm at sea. The second is lured away by Paksha She Monsters, who devour his—her—heart. But the third warrior makes it to the island to rescue the princess, and then..." He thrust both arms toward me in a flourish, nearly fumbling his sword. "Happy forever more!"

"Ah."

He wiped his bulbous forehead, and sweat speckled the soil under our feet. "Ah? That's it? I need some honest feedback here."

"Pim... you know I hate stories."

"That just means you haven't heard the right one."

"Some honest feedback, then?"

"Yes?"

"I still haven't heard the right one."

With a belabored groan, Pim lashed out again, and a scurry of feet trampled the dirt. Our panting mingled with the natural spring, which shot water onto the cupped hands of a glistening gold statue of Goddess Rashika. The sun began to sag below the palace walls surrounding us, etching shadows across verdant vines and blossoming lilacs.

Finally, my blade tapped his neck.

"Gah." He chucked his blade at the ground. "The sun was in my eyes."

"Oh, Pim. You are certainly fond of storytelling."

Pim chuckled. "Honestly, Epsa, I'm just glad you'll be on my side when we face those Trogolese bastards tomorrow."

He bent to retrieve his discarded sword, and my breath caught in my chest. Silver flashed at the neckline of his pit-stained tunic, a misshapen deity with a "V" smile and four arms weaving bonelessly. Lord Acrador.

I scanned the courtyard to ensure we were still alone before shout-whispering at him. "Pim, your necklace."

His eyes flicked down to the pendant, and he ran his tongue between his lips. "Oh, that's nothing. Just an old gift from my grandmother."

"No matter who it's from, you can't wear that here in Rakim. You know the rules."

He scratched his head, splaying sweat-soaked blonde hair. "Well, not everyone can follow every little rule as well as you do."

I glared at him. "This isn't just some little rule. The heathens who worship the Lesser Gods have committed all sorts of atrocities in the Kingdom."

"Atrocities like celebrating unsanctioned holidays?"

"Atrocities like burning down a fucking orphanage, Pim."

He tucked the pendant back into his tunic and swung an uneasy glance around the courtyard. "That was fifteen years ago, back when I lived in Busk. Anyway, I swore to worship only the one true Goddess when I joined King Makapu's Royal Guard. Do you really believe I would break that oath?"

I bit my lip, gaze flitting to the gold statue of Goddess Rashika in the fountain. Then I released the lip with a sigh. 

"What I believe does not matter. Some already suspect you worship Lesser Gods just because you are from the north. You can't afford to fuel those accusations."

"I'm not trying to fuel—"

Feet pattered the ground behind us. I wheeled around to see the smallest palace occupant toddling toward us, chubby cheeks jiggling and spirals of black hair bouncing with each step. He grasped a wooden figurine of a galloping horse in one hand.

I crouched closer to his eye level and raised one stern eyebrow. "Prince Makari, I told you to never enter the courtyard alone. If we were busy fighting and didn't notice you, you could be hurt."

He beamed at me, revealing a straggling green strand caught between tiny pearly teeth. "Play with me, Epsa. Please, please? Don't wanna go nursery. Every time, nursery!"

I sighed and cast Pim an apologetic shrug. "Sorry, Pim. Duty calls."

He cocked his head and grinned at Makari, who jerked back two steps under Pim's pale-eyed gaze. "Of course. Who can ignore an adorable little prince?"

My chest tightened as I answered the question in my own mind.

Everyone could ignore him.

Sometimes for days.

"See you tonight, Pim," I said, and I scooped the elated toddler into my arms and trotted toward the arched entrance to the palace.

We passed through a long sparkling corridor of golden Goddess Rashika statues. Several servants lugged in more gold statues and massive paintings in preparation for the arrival of Chief Taroom's family. I greeted the servants with a brisk nod and continued down the hall. As I raised my hand to open the door to one of several family rooms in the palace, two tense voices halted my progress. 

Makari fidgeted in my arms and whined. "Play, Epsa. We play!"

"One minute," I said, rubbing his back absently as I focused on the exchange.

King Makapu's voice reached my ears first. "You are twenty-six years old. I don't know why you insist on acting like a child."

"Oh, forgive me, Father." The bite in Prince Makandi's voice stung even through the door. "Please inform me how I have acted like a child, as I am so very eager to please you."

"For one, you refuse to act like a father for Makari."

Makandi huffed a snort loud enough that Makari flinched in my arms and scrunched his brow. "Oh, you really dare bring that up?"

A short silence followed, and when King Makapu spoke again, I heard the frown in his voice. "You are a prince, Makandi. You must attend to your duties, or..."

"Or what? Or you'll do them for me?"

King Makapu expelled a quick gust of air. "Makandi, I—"

Makari wailed in my arms.

"We will resume this conversation later," said King Makapu.

"How ever will I wait?" came the already fading response. By the time I stepped through the doorway, Prince Makandi had disappeared.

Makari squirmed in my arms so vigorously I almost dropped him. "Grampy!"

Though a few wrinkles lined his forehead and crinkled his eyes, King Makapu's physique remained powerful, and his dark skin glowed with health. A smile lit up his face and dimpled his left cheek. He strode forward and ruffled Makari's hair. Then he turned to me, and his brow twitched.

"Epsa, I was just about to look for you. Will you accompany me to my study?"

"Happily, Your Majesty." Small fingers pinched my upper arm, and I winced. "Although I promised Prince Makari I would play with him."

"I apologize, but play time will have to wait. This is important."

The King glided to a nearby table, lifted a golden bell, and flicked his wrist to ring out a delicate chime. Seconds later, a Claimed appeared in the entryway, white gown hugging voluptuous features. A thin gold collar gleamed against the bronze skin of her neck. She swept into a curtsy and spoke in a silky smooth voice.

"You called, Master?"

"Thank you for coming, Honey," King Makapu's pleasant bass rumbled. "Please bring Makari to the nursery so I may speak with Epsa."

Her ivory teeth twinkled as she smiled. "Of course, Master."

"No," Makari squealed as Honey plucked him from my arms. "You promised, Epsa, no nursery. No!"

I frowned after him as Honey and Makari vanished through the doorway at the other end of the family room. When I dragged my attention to King Makapu, he had already started toward the door.

I followed King Makapu down another corridor up a spiral staircase into a study. The chandelier overhead cast a soft glow over the room, and a plush rug absorbed our footsteps. Hardcover books heaped high on the mahogany desk and lined the shelves around the room.

A woven map of Najila draped across the back wall, gold thread stitching the borders between Najila's six tribal states. The Fooja peninsula stretched out into the blue waters, Rakim nestled vibrant green just above, a swath of brown at the top depicted the two mountain states, and speckled tan represented the desert states in the south and east. Several inches from Rakim, the island nation of Trog stained the Paksha Sea black.

I didn't notice the Claimed kneeling beside his desk until she lifted her head toward us, smile distant and eyes glazed. Her white silk gown hung unbuttoned, exposing a tantalizing expanse of cleavage a hairsbreadth from unveiling a nipple. Auburn hair curled around her ears and danced along her rounded collarbone.

King Makapu's gaze slid over her curvaceous figure, eyes soft and admiring. "You are a vision as always, Darling, but other concerns occupy my attention at present. You may leave."

Smile unwavering, Darling arose and swooped into a curtsy. The gown's material slipped an inch lower, and I averted my eyes, unease wriggling through my gut. I pushed aside this inexplicable agitation. Even though these Claimed women came from enemy tribes conquered by Rakim, King Makapu afforded them lives of luxury and treated them like treasures. By all accounts, they were lucky.

Like me.

Darling drifted out of the room. King Makapu's eyes met mine, and he raked a hand through his lustrous curls. "Epsa, I know I promised you could join the Royal Guard tomorrow, but I'm afraid plans have changed. I will not be sending you into battle."

A wave of disappointment rocked me so hard that tears pricked my eyes. After waiting so long to serve my Kingdom, I could not bear the thought of being held back once again. I clasped my hands in front of myself, nails digging into my skin.

"Your Majesty, you need not protect me anymore. I have been training hard to defend the Kingdom against the Trogolese. I beat Pim in almost every spar now."

He laid a hand on my shoulder. "Oh, my sweet child, you misunderstand. I am entrusting you, not protecting you. I need you for a mission far more dangerous than fighting Trogolese."

I lifted my gaze to blink at him. "A... more dangerous mission, Your Majesty?"

"Have you heard of the rebellion group calling themselves Rashika's Resistance?"

I furrowed my brow. "Yes, Your Majesty. Pim and Pamil told me those heathens murdered several members of the Royal Guard."

He inclined his head in a deep nod. "Indeed... and if we are unable to accost the culprits, more victims will follow. Fortunately, we believe we know who is leading the movement—a young woman named Izra."

"And... you would like me to help capture her? Or kill her?"

He shook his head, parting his tongue from the roof of his mouth with a reluctant tsk. "Not yet, no. If we capture or kill her now, a new leader may rise up in her stead. We need an insider—an informant—to tear the group down from inside." He squeezed my shoulder. "Izra attends the Coupling every week. And as it happens, you are exactly the type she prefers."

"The type she prefers," I repeated numbly, unwilling to process the implications.

He slid his hand off my shoulder and rotated his palm up before him. Gold rings glittered on each of his fingers. "I also hear Izra's beauty is quite compelling, and I know you prefer women."

A single puff of incredulous laughter escaped me before I snatched back control. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, I do not prefer anyone who wishes to destroy the Kingdom."

"Epsa, I am asking you to bed her, not marry her."

Bitterness swelled in my throat. I wanted to feel honored by this opportunity to serve the Kingdom and my King, but I could not quite summon my usual pride. After years of preparing to face the Trogolese, my opportunity had finally arrived... only to vanish in seconds.

Voice carefully even, I said, "There must be someone better suited for this task, Your Majesty. I am skilled as a fighter, not as a lover."

He sighed. "Epsa, this palace is your home, and you may stay here regardless of how you choose to live your life. But if you wish to serve on my Royal Guard, I expect unquestioning obedience."

His words conjured a distant whisper from my mother. The Goddess blesses those who obey without question. I pried apart my clasped hands and splayed them over my thighs.

"You shall have it, Your Majesty. I want nothing more than to serve you."

* * *

Prak sprayed from Pim's mouth as he slammed his chalice down on the dainty white table between us. "Wait, you are supposed to fuck Izra? I mean, the Izra?"

The evening sun lit a fuzzy glow over the vines and flowers of the palace courtyard. The Goddess Rashika fountain gurgled merrily to my left. Across the table, two lumbering guards hunkered over absurdly delicate patio chairs, elegant gold chalices clutched in meaty fists and jaws hanging slack. The image might have amused me if not for the trepidation crawling down my spine.

I fingered the engraved stem of my own chalice. "Why are you saying it like that?"

Pim's pale blue eyes flicked between Pamil and me. "I've heard she eats the hearts of her lovers, like a Paksha She Monster!"

Pamil pushed dark curls back from his eyes. "I've heard her eyes are as black as her soul."

"I've heard she has claws for hands."

"I've heard she has claws in her—"

"Stop!" I plopped the chalice down with a clink. "That's enough. Paksha She Monsters do not exist, and no one has black eyes, or claws for hands, or claws... anywhere else. Anyway, she is a Najilan, not a Trogolese. How dangerous can she be?"

Pamil cocked his head. "Guess you can tell us in a few days."

Pim nodded gravely. "If you're still alive."

I downed the rest of the prak, Rakim's spicy liquor, in a few gulps. Then I dropped the chalice on the table and strode toward the door to the palace.

"Epsa."

I spun back and raised my eyebrows at Pim, hands on my hips.

Pim lifted his chalice toward me. "We'll kill an extra Trogolese for you, eh?"

Despite my best efforts, a smile tugged at my lips. 

The smile lingered as I turned back toward the entrance but dissipated as I passed through the breathtaking glamour of the palace halls. By the time I reached my room in the servant quarters, tension seized my body in its vice grip.

That night, I lay awake a long time, itchy eyes stuck open. A stuffed animal sat propped against the wall on my bedside table—body misshapen, fur disintegrated to a few scraggly tufts, and one black button eye staring me down.

Snuggles.

I had lost this opportunity to hunt him down, but I would not allow a stranger to ruin my life again. I would bring down Izra and her rebellion before they could destroy the King who had saved me and the kingdom I loved. Then I would proceed to my ultimate goal.

Stroking the scruff of fur still lining the bear's head, I breathed a final promise into the night. 

"Don't worry, Snuggles—one day, I will find you. And when I do, I will fucking kill you."