The Bladed Tiger's Empress, page 26
part #1 of Claiming Her Empire Series
Hayden’s nostrils flared as he focused on Frederick, their eyes meeting. Frederick wasn’t a small man, tall though not as tall as Hayden and not nearly as wide or stacked with muscle. He was scrawny in comparison. Not intimidating. Through his eyes however, Hayden saw it all again.
Experienced it all again.
The sweat of her terror darkening her hair, the ghost of her tears flowing rivers down her somber cheeks as she had yet another nightmare of her father’s demise, her blood which stained that barely there robe she had been wearing that night. She had experienced incredible pain, all because of this one measly man and Hayden felt his heart drain of mercy, his eyes of spirit and even his body of pain. He was so overwhelmed with hate that he could feel nothing else. He was almost floating in a cloud of the emotion, surrounding him, consuming him, and he let it.
Everything he was was gone now, heeding to the need to kill Emperor Frederick. His new purpose: kill the painted peacock, his lover’s illegitimate husband and therefore illegitimate emperor.
Frederick shrunk back from Hayden’s intense glare, seeing inside those green bottomless pits of hate his own death and realizing his mistake. He should have put just as much effort into eliminating the Bladed Tiger as he had into murdering the emperor, but Frederick foolishly wanted his strength. He thought perhaps he could reason with the man, sway him with gold or some other manner of persuasion. He saw now just how stupid that mistake had been.
The Bladed Tiger was only loyal to one person.
It wasn’t until Hayden’s eyes flickered down the length of the smaller man that his gaze settled on the weapon Frederick was carrying.
Marilla’s copper dagger.
Until that moment, Hayden didn’t think it possible for his blood pressure to rise any more than it already had as he charged forward. The world around him didn’t seem to move, it felt like a dream where he ran so fast that time around him slowed.
Frederick raised the dagger, shifting into a fighting stance as if he stood a chance. Hayden had his swords raised, ready to strike Frederick from existence but not before confirming that his princess was safe and unharmed. That this pretender to the throne hadn’t harmed her. If he had, if he had dared touch her, Hayden would make every aspect of his death as painful as humanly possible.
“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice vibrating from deep in his throat, growling from him in a loud, threatening demand.
Frederick was too busy panting, eyes round with fear to answer so Hayden looked again at the dagger.
No blood. He chose to fixate on that and not that he had her weapon and so leaving her defenseless in the middle of an end-all battle.
“Where is she?” he repeated, looming over Frederick, but before the smaller man could answer, an arrow shot from above implanted itself into the back of a castle soldier ready to strike down one of the peasants fighting alongside Hayden.
Hayden looked up and, on the tower where Cornelia had waved the flag, giving the signal for attack, Marilla was leaning over the edge firing arrows from a stolen bow. He was transfixed by her, immeasurable relief washing away all other emotions he had allowed to consume him and inadvertently left an opening.
Frederick inched back. He could have struck, but unless he killed the Bladed Tiger with one blow it would have been futile. Any slice Frederick could make with the small dagger tucked into his palm would only bring Hayden’s attention back to him, so he took the opportunity to slip into the crowd who still battled, though his guards were beginning to surrender now. His wife’s army was defeating his forces and Frederick was no fool. If he stayed he’d be executed so he picked that moment to flee for the back exit with only a curse over his shoulder.
Cursing his wife for being so disobedient as to live when he told her to die.
Marilla watched the forces below her start to surrender. The soldiers knelt with their hands behind their heads in rows as others dropped their weapons to join them. She could see their faces, pinched with rage and defeat, but watching with fear too as more and more of them knelt before the rival forces. They were defiantly refusing to beg for mercy, but she intended to give it to them anyway.
Cornelia was hugging the black curtain to her chest, her arms trembling as she panted, sweat gathering along her forehead. “Is it over?” she asked hoarsely.
“Just about,” Marilla said gently. “Go tend to the wounded, they’ll need it.”
It took a moment to register Marilla’s command, but Cornelia finally nodded slowly and started for the stairs leading down onto the battlefield below.
Marilla too dropped her bow, gathered herself into a stiff posture and walked calmly for the stairs after her friend. She took each step gently, suddenly feeling weak in the knees with relief. She had won. She wasn’t going to die today.
She was torn between quickening her pace and slowing it when she wondered who among her friends hadn’t been so lucky. There were deaths on both sides, she could see that from the tower, but she couldn’t yet recognize their faces.
She didn’t think that this would be the part she would dread the most, finding out who survived and who didn’t.
She came out into the bloodied courtyard square in the center of the castle grounds. Bodies littered the ground around her, most tangled together in a tight knot as if still wrestling even in death. Her eyes flickered over each of their faces, recognizing some on both sides. She refused to grieve however, not yet.
She couldn’t fall apart yet.
“Princess,” Hayden’s whisper of sweet relief reached her ears and had her whipping her head back to attention. He was before her with only a few strides, his face smeared with blood, clothing practically drenched in it, but when he pressed his forehead gently to hers Marilla knew none of it was his.
“Bladed Tiger,” she sniffled, allowing only a few glistening tears to fall onto her cheeks as she brushed her fingers against his cheek and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.
“What are your orders for the captives?” That was Kayda, all business standing behind Hayden who reluctantly pulled away from his princess with a hardly concealed grumble.
Marilla turned to those kneeling before her, eyes calmly surveying them. Some looked at her as defiantly as if they weren’t on their knees while others had their gaze downcast with shame and guilt. “I accept your surrender,” she said to them. “I’m not sure what Frederick promised you to secure your mutiny against my father, but if you swear allegiance to me, I will spare your lives and treat you as my own people.” She looked into one set of eyes she recognized from her wedding night then another before adding, “I will forgive you for the murder of my father and the attempt on my life though not without penance.”
She looked at the peasants who stood on wobbly legs like newborn deer, exhausted and sore as their adrenaline wore thin. “Each of you will be banished from the castle,” she explained to the kneeling soldiers, “and become their servants in their towns, making rebuilding this kingdom your top priority.” She turned her head again to the soldiers who were looking at the peasants with disdain. “They rose up to defeat those who have robbed them of their human rights, and they deserve your respect and devotion as their servants, defenders, and protectors.”
“And if we don’t swear our allegiance to you?” one soldier asked, his tone almost mocking.
Kayda stepped forward with her claws already dripping with blood, hunched forward threateningly, but Marilla waved her hand gently. “You’ll be exiled from the kingdom and treated as any other fugitive. You will be treated as I was treated. On the run with nowhere to go.”
The soldiers exchanged glances, swallowing as they considered Marilla’s offer. Either serving the people of the kingdom selflessly or exiled from it entirely.
Three quarters of the men before her shifted into a one knee bow with one hand over their heart, head slumped forward and the other touching the ground to steady themselves. They sat like that and they would until she accepted their allegiance, but a quarter of the men still looked defiant and angry and shamed. Those men she would show no mercy to.
“Kayda,” Marilla said, her voice losing the honeyed sweetness she had just used to address the forces.
“Princess?” Kayda asked, her voice just as unforgiving.
“Exile the rest with a full helping of toad oil into their systems.” The eyes of those who refused her widened in horror and fear while even some of those who knelt before her flinched. “I told you. You will be treated as I was treated.”
Kayda and some of the temple warriors stepped forward to use their toad oil coated weapons on each of the exiled soldiers. Some tried to resist or flee, but none escaped the pierce of Kayda’s claws, and all were sent stumbling into the forest disoriented and in pain. “We will sweep the forest tomorrow,” Marilla called after them. “Any of you still found loitering will be executed.” As I would have been.
“Princess!” The two guards Hayden had posted at the back exit came forward dragging a twisting, spitting figure, furious at being held prisoner. Marilla felt the color drain from her face with dread as she recognized a sweatier, scraped, and bruised Frederick. “He was trying to escape.”
Marilla stared at him, the way his long hair hung in sweaty strands around his face, gray-blue eyes cold as always yet round with fear and rage both mixing into a toxic cocktail of emotion written all over his features. He looked at her, his eyes meeting hers and the cold hate she felt from him would have burned her had she not been emitting a fire of hate back at him. He didn’t fear her, not Marilla herself. He didn’t see her as a threat even now. His hate filled orbs kept slithering towards Hayden and turning into terror. He feared death to be sure but didn’t expect it directly from Marilla. He thought it from Hayden who to his credit did look especially intimidating, standing with his fists clenched and green eyes narrowed into slits yet somehow wide and crazed too.
Marilla turned away from her husband and addressed the soldiers who still knelt before her with their heads bowed. “This is who you overthrew my father for, this coward who flees instead of risk dying with you. This is who you chose to follow.”
She turned again to Frederick. “You murdered the emperor before you, this alone gives me full right to denounce you as my husband,” she declared to him, raising her chin so she looked down her nose at him. He was beneath her, always had been. “You will be exiled like the others,” she announced after a moment’s thought. She looked at Kayda who was flexing her claws in anticipation.
“Without your title you received through birth, you’re worthless just like he was,” Frederick spat, spittle flying from his lower lip and hair flying around his face as he struggled against the hands that held him. “I had to fight for every scrap and earn every title I have.”
“That doesn’t make you above murder,” Marilla said calmly.
“I deserved the throne! I deserved to be emperor! I earned it!”
“You are not entitled to whatever you please because of your struggle in life,” Marilla snapped. Settling her voice back into a soothing and calm tone, somehow more ominous as she said, “Life owes you nothing.”
She nodded to Kayda who stepped forward with a menacing smile on her otherwise gorgeous face. Her usually crystal blue eyes were somehow burning red like two enraged rubies, that paired with the smile that bared all her teeth made Frederick shrink back in fear. He struggled again, this time not to attack Marilla but to escape Kayda.
There was no escape however, it was over and everyone except for Frederick seemed to know it.
Kayda stood before him, looking like an ominous statue before lifting her left hand, claws extended and held over him. Frederick watched those claws, his breath held as she said, “This is for Francine,” in a tone so menacing it itself could have killed as she brought her claws down forcibly and struck across his chest. He screamed, his blood spurting then oozing from the deep gouge marks under his shredded robe. She lifted the other hand wrapped in the metal weapon, “This is for Liath.” He screamed again as she dealt another blow across his chest, making four perfect red X’s through his skin. Finally, she lifted her claws again, hovering as she glared down at him now dangling limply from her warriors’ arms. “And this is for my empress.” She dug her claws into his collarbone and sliced clear down to his navel.
He coughed, heaving at the pain which made it very difficult to breath. Only when Kayda felt she had dealt proper retribution did she step back and allow the warriors who held Frederick to drag him to the gates of the castle and discard him in the woods.
To his credit, Marilla did watch him stumble to his feet and pull himself into the shadows of the trees, and only when he was out of sight did she allow the soldiers kneeling before her to stand.
18
Empress Marilla
She sent Hayden to fetch the servants hiding underground with Edna as the soldiers were dragging the last of the bodies out to be buried, but Marilla wasn’t there to greet them when they emerged. She’d taken the opportunity to flee to the inner chambers of the castle. She just felt that she couldn’t hold herself stiff and poised any longer.
She gasped, hunched forward with her hands on her knees and heaved as if preparing to spill the contents of her stomach.
She was grateful for her training in containing her true feelings and holding her superior posture even during those moments when she was forced to make a difficult decision. Like sending a group of people into the woods to die and watching friends and loyal subjects being slaughtered in her name.
These were her decisions to make now. She was an empress after all and not just a status symbol princess.
Not anymore.
“Princess?” Hayden called as he came through the arch that would have led to her father’s former room. He heard her before he saw her, hunched forward with her hands braced on her knees, heaving uncontrollably in wheezy gasps. “Marilla!” He was before her within moments, kneeling down at her feet and looking up into her face. Her skin was red, eyes wide and unseeing. Panicked. “Marilla,” he said again, reaching forward and caressing her cheek.
“I’m an empress,” she whispered.
“Yes,” Hayden said tentatively, not certain if that was what she wanted to hear though it was the truth.
She swallowed, closing her eyes tight and pressing her trembling palms to them. “I haven’t been properly trained for this. I don’t know how to lead.”
“Of course you do,” Hayden assured her gruffly, gently wrapping his fingers around her wrists and prying them from her eyes so he could look into them seriously. His glowing emerald gaze sunk into her golden-brown one. “You may not have been trained, but what I have witnessed these past months was a leader. A true leader. I believe you will turn this kingdom around.” When she remained silent, he swept his thumb along her cheek gently. “I believe in you, and so does everyone who followed you here.”
She searched his expression before sliding down the wall she had been leaning on to kneel before him. Her man. Her Bladed Tiger. Her General. He was already kneeling on one knee though she pressed both of hers into the ground before him so they could be eye to eye. “Hayden, if I hadn’t said so before, thank you for following me,” she said quietly and Hayden took one of her hands into his, bringing her delicate fingers to his lips and kissing each one.
“I’ll always follow you, my princess. Wherever you go,” he whispered, then smirked at her mischievously. “It’s my job, after all.”
She returned his playful smirk and tightened her hand over his. “Then perhaps it’s time for a promotion.”
He tilted his head, eyes squinting slightly as he tried to comprehend her meaning. She decided to make it simple. “Marry me, Hayden.”
His eyes brightened from a glowing light to an iridescent brightness, the smile that pulled at his lips was one she hadn’t seen from him in many fortnights. His response was to kiss her, his smile so stiff and unwavering the kiss was almost a laugh. She smiled against him too, feeling herself brighten until they were both producing enough joyous energy to become their own sun.
“Is that a ‘yes’ then?” she breathed against his chin, and his deep throaty laugh echoed off the stone.
“It is my humble duty to serve—”
“Stop that!” Marilla snapped, giggling as he smiled playfully down at her.
“I graciously accept your offer,” he whispered before kissing her forehead then scooping her chin up to start a line of kisses down her nose to her expecting lips.
She sighed into his mouth, pressing herself against him. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispered nervously.
“We’ll figure it out together,” he promised, equally quiet. “What are your thoughts on these soldiers? They may have sworn their allegiance to you but…” he broke off.
“The temple warriors have more than proved themselves loyal, the soldiers have a lot more work to do to prove their loyalty,” Marilla agreed, licking her already moist lips as she considered. “The temple warriors should build their home here and become our main line of defense.”
Hayden’s cheeks pulled slightly as a smile threatened to sweep his face. “And the soldiers?”
She swallowed, looking down this time to consider her answer. They had attacked her, tried to kill her, hunted her. They couldn’t be trusted, not yet. She couldn’t exile them, but she couldn’t let them stay at the castle either. “Station them in the towns as guards,” she decided suddenly. “There are bandits still at large, the towns will need protection. We could have them escort the townspeople back to their towns and have a warrior at each of the towns to supervise. Maybe they can help develop and build?” She looked back up at Hayden to find him smiling wide, his eyes aglow with pride.
“And you thought you weren’t going to be good at this,” he said affectionately, his deep voice low with admiration. “It’s a learning curve,” he said, kissing her nose, “but you’ll get through it.”
