Her brothers and mother had returned from the warfront, hidden from assassination.

Lysandra sat at the table of the family that she had betrayed in more ways and more times than she could count. She'd worked for the rebels, hacked into Aaron's brain and plotted the death of six members of it since she was nine. She was a greater traitor than the insurgents themselves. She didn't look like a traitor, naturally. Like all of them, she sat there in silence, glowering at the rest, and fitting in very well. She enjoyed a breakfast of yoghurt and raspberries, sitting next to her brother as he feasted on waffles with maple syrup. Every time she looked at him, it stung. Despite the fact that she told herself that it was the only possible choice, she had still decided to betray him. Still broken his heart and then made him forget about each and every one of the things she had done to wrong him. Every smile that he gave her hurt.

But showing that would only make her brother and mother suspicious, so she smiled right back at him.

"There's been more betrayals," her mother whispered softly, and Lysandra bolted upright-not in a guilty way, but in a shocked fashion. "I only recently discovered that this noble helped save the life of an insurgent. And has been informing for that same insurgent, allowing him to intercept supply trains to the army that stands between us and enslavement by the God-Born." This was very hypocritical, but she didn't comment.

"These are the most heinous crimes that could be committed against my sovereign state, and the Crimson dynasty." Lysandra also objected to labelling their family of eight a dynasty, given there had been only one ruler so far.

"I thought it would be wise to inform my court that there will be no prison sentence for these crimes. There will only be death. I thought it wise, too, to remind you that if it be not noble blood who has betrayed us...if it be royal blood, then the consequences will be very much the same."

Her mother's words didn't send a bolt of fear through her. No, they only tasted like victory.

     -----------------

Aaron-six days earlier.

Aaron realised he had been standing still for a few minutes now. He must have been lost in thought, as he often was. He tried to remember what he had been thinking of but found nothing. Blinking and with a slight headache, he walked back toward his rooms.

Something felt missing. Something felt...strange.The alchemy was probably getting to his head. There were often dangerous substances involved, but he had been careful.

Even the most careful sometimes slip up. He'd be better next time.

The feeling haunted him for days, though. An odd little twinge when he found his past few days murky. Definitely alchemy getting to his head.

Sometimes, when he saw his sister, he felt suddenly that he had forgotten something...that she had talked to him and her words had been important...

Sometimes, when he saw his mother, he felt a sudden jolt of panic for no reason at all.Sun-blasted alchemy getting to his head.

---------------

Lysandra

Now. Now was the time to strike, and to strike without hesitation. So why did she remain in her rooms, waiting for nothing at all? Why did her concentration falter as she tried to form the magic that would matter most of all? She didn't have long until her mother pieced together the evidence she had left into the wrong shape. Everything had to go perfectly.

Everything.

Lysandra slowed her breathing and slipped into her magic. It was vast, so vast. She bathed in it, basked in its darkness. From within the shadows' core, she began to shape her power. Long and sharp at both ends. No longer mist, but solid. And in its centre...something indescribable. The heart of it. The core of it.

The thing that made a sliver a sliver. Lysandra held both of the dagger-like fragments of solid shadow in her hands. A dark thrill of power rushed through her veins, part love of her magic and part love of shadow.

Swiftly, she went to the arena, where her brothers warred, and leapt into the stone field, concealed by a writhing mass of shadows. With strange surprise, she realised that the magic that she had used so far was wearing her down. Best not to draw on any more for the time being. From her concealed place in the arena she knocked the first sliver to a bow and released it, her brothers' war concealing it until it sifted into Erik's brain. Mere seconds, and the other sliver crept silently and unnoticed through Perseus' skull.

Lysandra waited until the arena match ended before she summoned Erik and Perseus to the gardens, the sliver in their brains demanding they came.

"Hello, brothers," she smiled at them. "How are we feeling today?"

"You...you have magic." Erik shivered, fighting against the presence in his skull. He really shouldn't have bothered.

"Silence," she replied. "Both of you. I am going to give you very clear instructions now: tomorrow, at eleven, you are going to go to the throne room. You will have swords with you. You will try to kill my mother, you will make it believable, and you will fail. You will confess to be the one working with the rebellion. You will tell her this when she interrogates you and nothing but this and to no one must you tell this story differently:

Markus wanted the throne. He wanted our mother dead so he could claim it. He promised you, Erik, full control of the armies. He promised Tyton a place as his Second in Command. He promised Perseus wealth and Theseus a duchy. In the end, you all agreed to help him take the throne.

"You turned to the rebellion for support. You interfered in the Crimsith's mission to interrogate a suspected insurgent. You met with him, donated to his cause, and urged him to consider an assassination attempt.  You found him down at the Montgomery Hotel, Room 308, and gave him the information he wanted, from the Records Room. He will attempt to kill Medea with you."

In the silence that followed, her brothers shivered.

"You would kill us, sister." Erik accused.

"Please. You would have killed me eventually, and Aaron, too."

"Our mother will discover what you have done." Perseus hissed.

"Just before I kill her," Lysandra replied.

"Will you kill little Aaron as well?" Erik asked.

"Silence." Lysandra commanded. "Do what I have asked, as I have asked, in the order that I have asked and with respect to how I might change these commands, immediately. Do not alter your

story without my permission."

------------------

"Lucifer," she smiled at him.

"You're paying this time," he grumbled.

"No, I'm not. I'm sneaking you into palace."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm going to get you into the palace. Markus and the others will help you kill Medea from there-"

"Markus, as in Crown Prince Markus Crimson Markus?"

"Yes. And all his brothers, except the youngest."

"Why? Why would they help us?"

"Because...because their father was killed by the Empress, too."

"The Emperor Consort? I mean there were rumours but Medea...Medea killed him?"

"Yes. Go to the palace. The garden in the right wing. They'll find you there."

Lysandra turned back to look at the shocked man.

"It ends tomorrow. Thirty years of tyranny...and it will end tomorrow, Lucifer. We will end it."

------------------

Lysandra, through the eyes of Erik and Perseus

She was both. She was neither. She was apart, and yet she was merging slowly, the sliver connecting them.

She\they saw the marble floors. Somewhere, flickering, was dread. It was hers and not. Somewhere, flickering was fear. They, all three, felt fear, but she felt it least. She felt hatred, too. She felt their hatred towards her as a muttering that was her and not her.She\they walked into armoury. She urged them to reach for the daggers; they fought against her. And as the they\she, they reached for the blades.

They\she walked to the back door of the throne room, blades in their\her hands. She had six hands, six legs and yet none. Her own body felt far away. 

They\she entered the throne room, and they\she bowed before their mother. They fought and struggled against her command, but it bound them tightly. They cursed her, and they\she lifted the dagger at their mother. They fought for speed, but she slowed them.Medea easily dodged their\her attack, and she triumphed as they mourned.

Medea wrapped them\her in shadows. Her wrath for them was endless and terrifying, but she knew not for the she that was part of them. The shadows tightened around them\she, and she retreated slightly as the shadows choked them. Perseus and Theseus screamed in pain. Lysandra cherished their pain, even as she felt it, distantly, through them. The shadows became them\her, running through their blood.

The chamber was silent.

"You have betrayed me," whispered their mother. "You were working with the fool who we found in the garden this morning. You made your feeble attempts at murder. You must know the price."

They\her only screamed. They wished to beg for their lives. They wished to tell the truth, but she commanded that they only screamed. They\her knew the price, and the price was death. Slow, and painful.

"Who is it that aided you?" Their mother demanded. They wished to tell her Lysandra's lies, to avoid the pain of torture, but she forbade it. This needed to be believable. And Lysandra wanted her cruel, vicious brothers to know pain. She wanted that so very much. They\she were silent, and the shadows in their\her blood ran thicker as they\she screamed.

          ---------------

They\she had spent the night in the dungeons, but they had not slept. Lysandra had retreated from their minds after the real torture began, only returning briefly to bear witness to their confession of lies.

Markus, Tyton and Theseus joined them in the dungeons and soon afterwards, the Crimsiths found the planted evidence of their guilt.

Lysandra had not seen Aaron since the night when everything had come together. She didn't feel like seeing him, really.If he had been a fool enough to love his brothers, then she might feel guilty for what they had done.

And how does she feel? It was hard to say. Hard to sook in. She had won. Well, she was halfway there.

Halfway to victory. Soon, her mother would officially disown her elder brothers, leaving her heir to the throne.

Heir. The word tasted beautiful, because after all this time, all this plotting, everything was coming together. Lysandra was five steps closer to ruling the Kallian Empire. Instead of being sixth-in-line, she now stood as first to inherit the crown she so coveted.

Honestly, she felt slightly giddy with it, as though power was wine. And whilst she might not be Empress yet, that didn't mean that being Crown Heir didn't have a lot more power. Soon, everyone in the Empire would recognise her as something more than just a pawn to marry off, helpless and useless. They would see her as they should: their future Empress. Whilst the higher nobles once looked down on her, now they would be clamouring for her favour, her attention, her aid.

Lysandra smiled. All that time watching Markus squander all the power he did not deserve and now she could take it all for herself. All that time watching Markus at her mother's side, his throne next to hers, his power the closest to hers...and now she would sit next to Medea, have a taste at the feast that was the Empress' power.

So, she walked onto her brothers' execution, slipping her thoughts into the sliver in Erik and Tyton's brains. She would leave before they died, but for now everything had to go to plan. Weakened and tired, they did not even resist her mind's touch. Do not fight, she commanded. Do not struggle. Lysandra left their minds for the last time.

Perhaps it was weak, but she looked away when the axes dropped.She turned to her last remaining brother. His eyes were not pained, but there was still shock residing in them.

Shock that his mother could spill her own blood. Shock that his brothers might try to kill her. Shock that they had come so close.

Maybe one day, when this was all over, Lysandra would tell him the truth of what she had done.

One day, when he had only her left, he might love her despite the truth