Chapter Two
It’s a beautiful day in Laconia. I sit in the middle of a field of flowers on the northern edge of the Acadian region, far enough away from the farms on the cliffsides surrounding the main city. The sun shines overhead, not so intense that it makes me sweat, and a breeze blows past me every few seconds, gentle enough that it doesn’t make my hair a mess.
Nature is finding its equilibrium again now that the threat of Invictis is gone. It will take years for the land to heal, even longer for its people to be as widespread as they were before, but now they have that chance.
Because of me. They have that chance because of me. Man, still feels weird thinking it. I never set out to be a hero, but that’s exactly what I am to everyone who’s left. I can still remember the moment when Kretia announced me as Laconia’s new high empress and everyone in Laconia kneeled down to show me respect.
It was weird. Weird and uncomfortable, especially when I looked over at Frederick and his dad and saw they were kneeling, too.
My gaze falls to the red ribbon on my left wrist. Prim would be proud of me. She’d probably never stop saying I told you so and other variations of it. When she saw what I could do, she put her whole heart into believing in me.
Prim didn’t know at the time that what magic she was seeing actually belonged to Invictis—but then again, if I have a piece of Invictis inside me, maybe the power really was mine all along.
But if that’s the case, then where is it now?
I look at my right arm as I think that, and I take in the way the tattoo shimmers with gold in the sunlight. The back of my wrist, all the way up to my elbow; it’s very similar to what it looked like before, only larger and permanently golden, the proof that Invictis is bound to me once again.
Only more of him this time. Yay.
The tattoo is like a golden flame, wisps all over my skin. Pretty I guess, but sparkles usually aren’t my thing. Neither is gold. I’ve had enough of that lately to last a lifetime.
I tear my eyes away from the tattoo and close them. I focus on breathing in, filling my lungs with air as slowly as I can before releasing the breath. The nature surrounding me is unburdened by Invictis’s power. I should feel more. I should feel the connection, the invisible magic others can’t see.
But I don’t.
I feel nothing except soft flower petals grazing the bare skin on my arms and the coolness of the breeze swirling around me. Nothing more. Nothing magical at all. Fuck.
How long have I been sitting here, trying to connect with the magic I know is all around me? How many days has it been since that fateful fight with Invictis, where I bound us together again—permanently this time?
Invictis won’t drive me mad, but this just might.
As if sensing I’m thinking about him, his heavily accented voice fills the air behind me, “Is this how you plan on filling your time now that you aren’t busy running away from me?” He sounds a mixture of annoyed and amused, and when I get to my feet and turn around, I see he’s smirking.
I can’t forget that the face he wears is one that belongs to Empress Morimento’s son, albeit way older than her son got before he died. Fair skin with sharp angles, a clean-shaven jaw and a square chin; his face belongs in a painting, not standing before me with a smirk.
And let’s not forget how tall he is, even in this stolen human form. Over six-and-a-half-feet tall with wide shoulders to match. An impressive figure all around, no matter which angle you look at him from.
He’s hot, yes, but he’s also an ancient evil that’s been killing everything for… well, basically forever. You can’t come back from something like that.
And this hot bastard isn’t supposed to leave the hut I chose as my own—something he knows.
I set my hands on my hips and cock my head at him as I say, “What are you doing out of the house, hmm? I’m pretty sure I told you to stay where you were. No one can see you.” Because I still haven’t told anyone that I didn’t defeat Invictis, that I only bound him to me.
If people knew… they might not trust me, or they might tell me to leave. Maybe they’d think I’ll lose my mind like their past empresses.
“You did, in fact, tell me to stay in the house, as you say,” Invictis repeats me with a slight mocking tone, “but you did not say how long I should remain there. I took it upon myself to assume you meant a short while.” His smirk only grows when he says that, as if he thinks he’s found a loophole.
Right. Because now that he’s bound to me, he’s forced to listen to me.
He stands less than three feet away, still wearing the clothes I took from Frederick’s hut. Meaning: everything is a little tight, a little short, and fraying at the seams. He needs actual clothes. I just… I don’t know how to come clean about the fight.
Oh, sorry, Invictis? You thought I killed him? Nope. I just forever bound us together since he’s literally the undefeated. What was that? You’re asking me why I don’t just kill him now? Well, you see, my magic has been kind of MIA since the binding…
Obviously, any which way I pretend to go about it in my head leads to one hell of an uncomfortable conversation. The only thing I might be able to do without raising suspicion is getting new clothes made for him.
“Go back and stay there until I say otherwise,” I tell him with a smile. “How’s that, dick?”
His blue gaze narrows, and he harrumphs as his figure is swallowed by a golden light. By the time that light disappears, he’s out of sight, thank God.
Out of sight, yes, but not out of mind, because through our connection, I hear him say, “How long do you think you can keep me a secret, hmm? Sooner or later someone will find out. I can’t help but wonder what they’ll think of their new high empress when they discover she’s been keeping secrets?”
I roll my eyes even though he’s not around to see it. “Just shut up.”
Thankfully he listens that time and doesn’t continue talking. Sharing a link with him? It’s not as fun as you might think. He’s constantly popping up in my dreams, mocking me, taunting me, telling me how, one day, he’s going to drive me completely insane.
Usually I tell him that he can’t drive me insane if I drive him insane first, which then pisses him off, but today… I don’t know. I’m getting worried. If I have the magic of all the empresses before me, I should still be able to cast.
But I can’t. I’m effectively magic-less, and it sucks ass.
I haven’t told Frederick, even though he’s the one I could probably trust more than anyone in Laconia. I haven’t told Invictis either; I don’t think I could bear hearing him gloat. I already have to listen to him talk way too much.
For an ancient weapon, he sure is talkative. Always has something to say.
Hmm. Maybe I should go talk to Frederick. He’s smart, and maybe he’ll know how to switch my magic back on. I mean, let’s be real: I’m not much of an empress, high or not, without magic. I need my magic back.
I need it in case that vision comes true and I have to face down another ancient evil.
One thing at a time though.
I decide to hike back to Laconia. With no magic to get me moving faster, it’s not exactly a short walk, but I’ve been across the kingdom and back again what feels like a million times, so at least I’m not out of breath when I approach Laconia’s open gate.
They keep it open now so the farmers can come and go while trying to ready the cliffsides outside of Laconia’s thick, high walls to be farmed once again.
The guards nod at me as I walk in, and I give them nods back. I tried ignoring them once and felt weird about it afterward; I didn’t want them thinking I thought I was better than them or something. Still, they’re not the only ones who bow their heads to me when I walk by. Damn near everybody in the city does it.
I go to Frederick’s hut and don’t find him there, which means he’s probably helping out somewhere—which is what I do when I’m not sitting and trying to reconnect to my magic. Making myself useful around here helps me get my mind off things. Plus, there is tons to do. The list will never end.
I spend a while searching the markets for Frederick, but when I finally spot him, I find him in the cemetery, helping to herd the animals out of that section in the city. Now that you won’t die immediately outside the city walls, the animals can have their own pasture again.
I lean on the wall that separates the cemetery from the rest of the city and watch as Frederick tries to get a rather lazy sheep to get up with the rest of the herd. He’s forty-ish feet away, sweat lining his brow, his brown hair tinted gold from the sun, and the facial expression he wears is one of frustration.
He’s obviously not someone who deals with stubborn animals often. It’s clear he doesn’t know what to do. He tries to nudge the sheep’s butt, but the sheep acts as though it doesn’t even feel him. Frederick then claps his hands—and yields no results. He then drops to his knees and tries to force the animal onto its feet, but the sheep remains on the grass near some headstones, unbothered.
Frederick’s cheeks are flushed, and he gets to his feet and wipes off the sweat from his brow. It’s right then he spots me, and he abandons the stubborn sheep to come over to me, an easy smile on his face.
His amber eyes sparkle with reflecting sunlight. “How much of that did you see?” His clothes are muddied, like he’s been wrestling animals all day.
“Enough,” I tell him. “I don’t think you’re very good with animals. People, yes, but animals? Not so much.”
He leans in to whisper, “It’s not me. It’s these damned sheep! They won’t listen to anybody—” It’s literally as he says that that the shepherd of the flock waves at the stubborn sheep, and without further prompting, the sheep stands. “—okay, maybe they simply don’t like me.”
I chuckle softly. “I can’t imagine why. I think you’re likable.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I have to look away from Frederick the moment I say them.
I’ve been helping around when I can, yes, but I’ve also made sure to do things Frederick wasn’t. Not because I’m scared to talk to him, but because… well, I wanted to avoid him a bit. Guess I am a little anxious to talk with him.
The man was seconds from confessing his love for me before the fight with Invictis, and I’m still not ready to hear it. I don’t know if I will ever be. Unfortunately for me, this whole magic thing needs to be handled sooner rather than later, and since he’s the only one I trust here, well… I’m out of options.
Frederick must sense my unease, because he doesn’t linger on what I said. “Were you looking for me, or did you just happen to walk by when I was making a fool of myself?” Even when he’s making self-depreciating jokes, he sounds earnest.
God, he makes it impossible to hate him. How annoying.
“I was hoping to get your help with something,” I say, glancing around. No one stands near us, so no one can overhear what we’re talking about. I would prefer to do it in private, but a part of me is worried that if we go to his hut, he’ll try to confess his love again.
And I don’t know that I’m strong enough to resist. What I do know is that I’ve never had a real relationship before. I don’t know how they look, how they work… and besides that, no matter what I’m doing or who I’m with, Invictis is always in the back of my head.
“Of course,” Frederick is quick to say. “Anything you need.” He breathes harder than normal; helping out the shepherds must’ve really taxed him. He stands about eight inches taller than me, which puts his face much closer to mine than Invictis’s, and it’s harder for me to ignore the worried squint in his gaze as he studies me closely.
I fiddle with my hands. “I—” Fuck. I should’ve practiced how to say it. It doesn’t feel like something I should just blurt out with no warning; I’m not telling him I got an A on my last paper. I’m telling him my magic is gone.
“I…” I say again, and a second time I stop myself.
“You…” Frederick starts. “You what?” The way he stares at me makes me feel some kind of way. Uncomfortable. He looks at me like I’m the most important person in the world, so how can I tell him that, somehow, my magic is broken?
The nerves become too much and I end up blurting out, “I was hoping you could tell me who makes good clothes around here.”
Frederick appears taken aback, but only for a moment. His gaze dips low, taking in my clothes. “Ah, yes, you have been wearing the same clothes since I first saw you.” He starts to reach for my shirt, where the dried blood is now black on the fabric from when Invictis stabbed me, but at the last second, he pulls back, as if remembering he shouldn’t touch me or my clothes.
Hey, I’ve been washing them… as best I can. There’s only so much I can do without a washing machine, you know? Or soap.
“There is a tailor in the upper district,” Frederick says. “I don’t know how much fabric he has available, but we can go talk to him.” Thankfully he doesn’t reach for my hand or anything like that; I don’t think I’d have the willpower to pull away.
As I walk with Frederick through the city, I know I’ll have to come clean sometime—not only about the magic thing, but about Invictis, too. I just don’t know how. I’m good with confrontation, but those heavy-weighted conversations? Not so much. Those aren’t my forte.
In the back of my mind, I hear Invictis groan. “That one again? I have the ridiculous notion that, if you were to ask him to jump off a bridge for you, he would do it in a heartbeat. He is the doltiest of dolts—I don’t know why you go to him for anything.”
“Shut up,” I hiss, and I make the mistake of saying it aloud, because as we walk up the steps to the upper district, Frederick gives me a strange look. “Sorry,” I quickly say. “I just have a song stuck in my head.”
Song. Ancient evil. Take your pick.
“What kind of songs do you sing in your world? Any that I would know?” Frederick asks.
“Uh, I don’t think so.”
“Someday you will have to sing one for me, then.”
That makes me laugh. “I don’t know about that. I don’t have the best voice. I think a dying cat would sound better than me.” And that’s not an exaggeration. In ninth grade, I had too many free periods, so I signed up for concert choir. The teacher actually told me it’s okay for me to mouth the words during our concerts.
“I’m sure you’re too hard on yourself,” Frederick remarks with a glance my way. “And, forgive me for saying this, but I feel as if that might be a common practice for you.”
We’re just through the upper gates when he said that, and I stop. He stops a second later. “What do you mean by that?” I ask him. I’m not sure if I should be insulted or not.
“It’s—” He rubs the back of his neck. “I get the feeling that you’re constantly hard on yourself. Maybe you’re hard on yourself because the world has been hard on you and you’re only reacting to that. Or perhaps you’re hard on yourself so when the world is hard on you, you’ve toughened yourself up, so to speak.”
I don’t say anything to that, mostly because, as much as I want him to be wrong, he’s not.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not my place. Come. We’re almost to the tailor.” Frederick turns away from me and resumes the lead, but I have to take a moment to come to terms with what he said.
He’s right. I am hard on myself. I’ve always been hard on myself. After losing my dad, I guess it was my way of trying to be better so I could prove to my dad’s memory I could make it and do him proud.
What would he say now if he knew where I am and what I’m doing? I still don’t know if he knew the whole story about my mom and who she was, and I’ll never know. Some questions I have will never be answered because the only ones who can answer them are dead.
With a sigh, I hurry to catch up to Frederick.