Chapter 28
Rosalind
One by one, the guards kneel as the Emperor walks past them.
Row after row dropping and reluctantly bowing their heads.
His face contorts the closer he gets, Bellator standing slightly behind me while Steve takes his place a step ahead.
My orcs both have weapons drawn, ready to face anything that the Emperor might have up his sleeve.
“You were meant to die, not kill the beherit,” he seethes.
“Sorry to disappoint you. I decided I needed more lessons with my Rosie on how to properly kiss. I need her legs to shake, you see.” What the… I see his shadow move as he shrugs his shoulders, and I control the urge to smile. I definitely don’t need to make this situation any worse by laughing.
“This was all planned, years in the making. How hard is it to fall on your sword and die like a good soldier? The impish were meant to love me. Worship me. But you just had to talk to them, coddle them, whenever you were in the city. I kept you away longer and longer, but still they loved you. We needed to win the war, but you had to take my glory. I was the one who invaded the West. I was the one who sent the impish of this city to battle, and each and every time I ventured out, all I heard was how much they adored you when they were meant to be devoted to me!”
He spits his words like venom, resentment and hate flowing through him as he paces in front of us. He doesn’t yell, he talks so viciously low, only those in the immediate vicinity can hear his speech, and from the wide eyed stares of the guards behind him, this is all new information.
“You sent younglings to war!” Bellator roars, everyone in the colosseum able to hear him as the crowd strains to listen.
“I kept them safe. I consoled the mothers of the fallen. Not. You! They were my brothers and sisters of this city, and you led them like cattle to the slaughter.” Bellator steps past me and in two quick strides, is in front of the Emperor, towering over him.
“Are you going to kill me in front of your beloved impish? Show them the orc you really are?” I can just make out the sly smile of the Emperor’s face, baiting him into a monster instead of the protector of this city.
I want Bellator to do it.
I want him to reach out and crush his skull like Steve did to the guard in the viewing box.
I want the blood.
I want to hear it…
I want it to be over.
I want freedom.
I want to explore what it means to be bonded to the two orcs standing by my side.
I want to know why I have this uncontrollable need to be with them at all times and why the bond ignited with me, a human.
Bellator clenches his fists. “You are not worthy enough to be killed by me. To offer you death would be a gift, not the punishment you think it is.”
No.
This was our opportunity. My head turns to Steve so quickly I swear I hear my vertebrae click as they adjust, “He doesn't know,” I mouth.
He doesn't know the plan. I never told him.
I was meant to tell him as soon as he was close enough to undo the collar, but I was overwhelmed by his injuries.
I never told him, and the perfect moment that was granted to us floats away in the breeze.
Bellator's lips peel back, exposing his teeth as he growls, snapping his head forward.
He barks in the Emperor's face, frightening him so much that he yelps and stumbles back.
“Impish of Imperior. You came for a spectacle, for blood…” Bellator's arms spread wide as he walks from where the Emperor has fallen, turning his back to him.
“Look at what your Emperor has done, all in the name of greed. He seeks to control you. To punish you. I have had the privilege to stand shoulder to shoulder with the impish of this city as we fight for her survival. Every swing of my sword, every drop of my blood has been for you. For us all to celebrate in victory. Do I not bleed enough for you today?”
The question hangs in the air, his words still echoing off the arena walls. He stands among the guards now, several feet from where we are, every eye in the colosseum on him, but his are on the Emperor, now kneeling on the ground, dirt covering his robes.
Lowering his voice so only the closest to us can hear, once again, “So scream, dear ruler, scream for the impish of this city until your throat bleeds. Because when they stop listening to you. When the games you play are dust. I will still be standing. And you, you will only ever be watching. Begging, for my aid, because after what has happened today, you are no Emperor of mine.”
“Enough,” the Emperor snaps, scrambling to his feet and lunging for me, his fingers biting into my arm so fiercely it feels like he’s tearing the skin from my bones.
I cry out in shock, but the immediate pain only lasts a second.
Steve rips the Emperor from his hold on me, lifting him in the air before slamming his body to the ground.
His robes fly open, his full body armour exposed.
He gasps for air, managing to take a few short gulps, a thin trail of black blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
A flash of movement blurs past me, and it's only when the spear has already pushed through his neck, up into his skull, that my brain catches up.
Steve.
Bellator.
They have… they've killed the Emperor.
A black plume of smoke evacuates the Emperor's body, tendrils wisping the air as they fade into nothing.
“Let it be known. There is no status high enough, other than the Devil herself, that will stop your death if you dare to touch our bonded,” Bellator roars to the shocked crowd.
To be honest, I think I'm shocked too. I had planned to beg.
To plead if I needed to, if it would make it so we could leave together and alive. I was prepared to do anything.
“Rosie,” Steve breathes, lifting my chin to look at him.
I didn't even know he had moved to my side.
Gently, he leans over and lifts me up, relief sinking into my bones as a calm washes over me.
Bellator walks around us, creating a safeguard.
The guards look at each other, their path forward no longer stable.
One of the official looking imps scurries to the Emperor's side, checking his body several times before looking to me and Steve, then Bellator.
Checking for a pulse seems pointless to me, then again, I'm no expert in imp biology.
I, myself, would assume that a spear through one's head was sufficient in ending one's life.
The poor guard whose spear was taken trembles as he waits for some sort of reckoning.
A quiet clearing of a throat has me looking at the official who now stands, moving away from the pool of black blood quenching the dirt. “Imperia,” he yells. “I, Lord Vaultus of the Eighth Quarter, have completed the assurance checks of our belo—”
A low growl erupts from Bellator, his stare penetrating any confidence the official once had.
“I have checked the body.” He tries again, Bellator nodding his approval. “And I confirm he sails the path of the fallen, to a greater life in the next. As is tradition and binding, the one to carry out the end is the one to take its place.”
“I don't understand?” I whisper to Steve. Not really following what the official is saying, because it sounds like whoever kills the Emperor is the new successor… but that can't be right?
“Who is in charge?” Bellator questions.
“You are, highness,” another official says, coming to stand next to him.
“What is your first act as ruler of Realm Six?”
Bellator's eyes soften as he takes us in, Steve and I holding each other, safe and together.
He turns, looking over each guard and the respect they have for him as a leader.
“Send word to the front. I want my Second and Third to extract our army and return our soldiers to their families. I will send word to the West of our withdrawal.”
The official's eyes flare wide, glistening as he clears his throat, nodding at Bellator's instruction.
“Imperia, we see today the end of a reign and the beginning of a new one. The empire has fallen, and with it, a new kingdom is born. Long live the Orc King. May he protect us as valiantly as he protects his bonded.” Stepping back, he graciously falls to his knees as he bows for Bellator with his whole body.
The only sound that can be heard is the rubbing of metal as guard after guard follows suit.
Each and every one of them bowing as low to the ground as they can.
A piercing scream rings out high up in the stands of the colosseum, everyone searching for the cause. Steve turns us, pointing, his eyes far more observant than mine.
“Right there, do you see it?”
Squinting and shading my eyes, I can make out in the distance what looks like a fire hydrant erupting from the roof of the colosseum.
Another pops to the left of it, then two more to the right, until one by one, the entire roof sprays water down on the city.
You can see it move in the breeze, the beads getting smaller until there is barely a fine mist falling upon us.
It’s like stepping outside after a heavy rain; the air feels weighed down with moisture.
“The water. It’s back,” Steve says in awe.
I hold my hand out, barely feeling the fine mist that surrounds us.
“Imperia,” Bellator roars. “A new dawn is here, rejoice, feast, and hold the ones you love close. Tonight we celebrate, and tomorrow we will start the journey back to a thriving city.”