Chapter Seven – Scarlett
Chapter Seven
Scarlett
Aric cast me a curious glance as I strode into view, my Warriors clearing a respectful path to the pavilion. He wasn’t sure what this spectacle was, and I tried to adopt a similar expression of surprise.
‘You summoned me, General?’ It wasn’t difficult to make my voice haughty. I was born to give orders, not take them.
Thanks to Avril, soon enough I wouldn’t have to. This entire army would be mine. And so would this war.
Mine to win or lose.
The tent flaps were open, allowing the occupants of the pavilion to address the crowd outside. General Harte was at the front, a piece of parchment in his hand. The forgery Avril’s Mask had created.
‘Yes, Your Highness. Thank you for coming.’ General Harte smiled thinly. ‘I called you all here,’ he said, raising his voice as he turned to the audience, ‘to honour Princess Scarlett. Her brother, our future emperor, contacted me with orders that I will read out.’
The gathering went still, waiting eagerly to hear Roran’s words. Words he never would have written.
‘I, Roran Valerian, task my sister to put down this rebellion. In my absence, she is to be given all the respect and authority you would give me. You may consider her my eyes, ears, and hands here.’
It felt oddly anticlimactic, watching General Harte read out his own demise.
In the forged message, I had instructed him to keep me at the Western front.
Under no circumstances , the Mask had written, can Scarlett return to Ravalia.
Make her feel powerful by holding a public ceremony in front of the army. Appeal to her vanity .
And General Harte, who constantly underestimated me, had taken Roran at his word.
The fool thought a little flattery would be enough to appease me, and he could continue as he had before, opposing me at every turn.
He thought his popularity within the army made him safe. That I wouldn’t risk challenging him.
That I wouldn’t dare .
General Harte bowed his head, and the other officers followed suit. A show of obedience.
Which was all it was meant to be – a show.
But General Harte had read out Roran’s decree, and in doing so, he had given me the tools I needed to finally dispense with him.
‘I am humbled by my brother’s faith in me,’ I said, addressing the crowd rather than General Harte. ‘And with my newfound power, I order General Harte to Ravalia, where he can ensure the security of our home.’
General Harte’s brows drew together. ‘The capital is secure, Your Highness.’
‘That’s not what I’ve heard,’ I said with a cool smile. ‘My sources say there’s growing unrest. Hardly surprising, since our forces have been away for so long.’
‘Your Highness, I must protest–’
I held up a hand, the lethal points of my silver nails glinting in the sun.
General Harte faded to silence, and I delighted in watching the first traces of realisation enter his eyes as I asked pointedly, ‘Are you refusing to protect the Ravalian capital? As important as this war is, it means nothing if my brother’s throne is lost.’
‘I’m your senior general,’ General Harte said stubbornly, his eyes filled with cold threat. ‘I belong here, leading my men.’
‘No. You belong where I send you. And you will serve me best as a military governor.’ I smiled – the same simpering smile I had given him during our last meeting. This time, I knew he could see the knife lurking behind it.
By accident, I caught Aric’s gaze. Though his expression was carefully unreadable, his eyes were appreciative.
‘This task is of the utmost importance,’ I continued, now playing to the crowd. ‘Zandri has personally requested the assistance of General Harte and his most esteemed officers.’ I rattled off the names of men I knew were fiercely loyal to the general, and likely to cause me no end of trouble.
Murmurs broke out amongst the assembled officers. This wasn’t a popular decision, but they had their orders.
‘You’re dismissed,’ I told them. ‘I wish you all a speedy journey, and thank you for your service to the empire. As does my mother.’
The mention of my mother made their expressions pale. Zandri had quite a reputation, and no matter what they thought of me, no one wanted to incur her displeasure.
‘Wait,’ I said, before General Harte could leave. ‘Your dagger, please.’
The crowd went still. Even the officers I had dismissed paused, staring at me in shocked disbelief.
General Harte’s shadowed eyes slowly rose to mine. A Warrior’s dagger was a sacred personal item, inscribed with their victories. Asking him to relinquish it was akin to dragging him to the whipping post and having him publicly flogged.
He had two options: disobey my direct order, and face whatever punishment I deemed appropriate, or follow my order and lose face in front of the army he had spent his life leading. Even I wasn’t sure which he would choose.
General Harte approached, one heavy, thudding step after another. I tensed, resisting the urge to reach for my own dagger. My guards drew their swords–
He threw his dagger at my feet. It landed with a clatter that reverberated through my bones.
Without even the pretence of respect, General Harte turned on his heel. His loyal men flanked him as he strode away, straight-backed and forbidding.
‘I have one last announcement,’ I said, once the whispering had subsided. ‘And that is General Harte’s replacement.’
Avril and her Masks took positions at my back, guarding me from attack. Aric was already by my side, so I only had to turn slightly to face him. I hadn’t told him what I had planned, but I hoped he would take it in stride.
I offered him General Harte’s dagger.
The silence held for one more, deafening minute.
Everyone knew Aric was technically unqualified for the position – but he was a quick learner with a mind for battle strategy, and had spent months working alongside General Harte.
And I wanted someone who was loyal. Someone I could depend on to follow my orders and not issue their own.
I met Aric’s gaze. Trust me .
Slowly, almost tentatively, his hand enclosed around the blade–
The gathering dissolved into chaos.
‘I will not tolerate dissent!’ I shouted, but my voice was lost over the din. ‘My decision is final!’
The crowd pressed closer, filled with restless energy. It made my skin prickle, and I wondered if I had pushed them too far. Perhaps I had been too optimistic about Ravalian duty and obedience.
‘Come on,’ Aric called, drawing his sword. ‘We can escape through the back of the tent.’
I stayed where I was. ‘I’m not going to run from my own people.’
‘Scarlett–’ Aric’s protest was cut off by a shout from behind me.
‘Langton!’ The harsh voice reverberated through the gathering. ‘Do you support the princess’s decision?’
I narrowed my eyes as I located the speaker – an imposing Warrior at the front of the army.
He was close enough to address me directly, but his attention was focused on the officers guarding the pavilion.
Officer Langton was amongst them; one of the most experienced officers I had left.
Already, the crowd was following this Warrior’s lead, looking to Langton as though his opinion mattered more than mine.
I’m losing them.
That realisation slammed into me, crushing the air from my lungs. It didn’t matter what Langton said. Even if he supported me, this Warrior had shifted the balance of power in Langton’s favour. If I didn’t do something – and fast – no one would obey my commands, and certainly not Aric’s.
If my father was here , I thought bitterly, they wouldn’t dare question his authority. They would be too afraid to speak a word against him .
Just like that, a plan started to form. I stepped forward, but Aric grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my skin.
‘Scarlett,’ he said urgently, ‘I won’t be able to protect you if–’
‘I don’t need your protection.’ My voice was like ice.
Striding across the pavilion, I pushed past the officers shielding me from the rest of the army. Hundreds of eyes tracked my approach, perhaps expecting me to appeal to Langton for support. But I walked past Officer Langton without a glance, my head held high, my shoulders back.
I kept walking until I was facing the burly Warrior who had challenged me. Standing on the pavilion steps, I was taller than he was, but our eyes were still level. To me, he was my entire army wrapped up into one: all the ordinary soldiers and Warriors who would either obey or rise up against me.
My hand tightened around the sword strapped to my hip. The desire to run him through was overwhelming. I could almost feel my blade slipping between bone and muscle, could almost see him toppling to the ground, never to question me again. It was what my father would have done.
I unsheathed my sword.
‘I could kill you right here,’ I said, in a powerful voice designed to carry. ‘But what sport is there in that? I am Ravalian, like you. I grew up watching the fighting matches in the arena. And I would answer your challenge – not with words, but with arms.’
Tension rippled through my army. I felt it in the stiffening of shoulders and the shifting of feet, but the silence held. There was no risk of the crowd losing control now. They were united in their shock, and even if they weren’t, every Ravalian was taught to respect the old traditions.
For I had challenged this Warrior according to the custom of the icy North. A colder, harsher time long before the Sorceress, when our ancestors had fought to the death and our rulers had held the throne through their own blood, might and cunning.
‘I accept your challenge, Your Highness.’ My opponent cut his palm with his dagger, the traditional acceptance required, but his eyes never left mine. They were filled with a fierce, hawk-like intensity.
The blood fever , our people used to call it.
I wondered whether the same expression was echoed on my face as I followed suit, but I didn’t think so. I wasn’t like this Warrior, fuelled by fire. I had been forged from something colder and crueller. Ice.
As I returned to the pavilion – to Aric and the other loyal Warriors and Masks I trusted to prepare me for this challenge – I sensed the crowd watching me. Appraising me.
I hoped they looked at me differently now. That they saw my deathly pale skin, my red hair, and the bone crown I wore, and thought of my fierce ancestors from the North, who my father had revered.
Those long-ago kings had been the most powerful and deadly of us, not to mention utterly merciless.
And if I was going to rule, I would need to be exactly the same.