VIOLENT DELIGHTS¹ ━━ John Murphy

𝖛𝖎. Busted!

𝖇𝖚𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉!

HEART RACING, Glass looks Lincoln dead in the eyes and goes, "Um, gesundheit?"

Jok! She thinks to herself. What a stupid thing to say - couldn't she have thought of literally anything better? But the damage is already done and she already said that and now her and Lincoln are staring at each other, with him looking too shocked to argue with her while Glass's panicking just a little because jok, this is not good.

Murphy breaks the silence. "Um... what?"

Lincoln ignores him. "I know who you are - Glass kom Azgedakru, second to the crown prince Roan, Queen Nia of Ice Nation's chosen Osleya, the last Azgeda natblida, and their only heir to the Flame."

"That's... that's not me."

Lincoln draws his sword. Then she squeezes her eyes shut as Lincoln draws closer, grabbing her hand and turning it over so her palm is up, forcing her fingers to unfurl before dragging the blade across it.

"Ouch," says Glass, then makes a face as Lincoln grabs her hand and shoves it towards his torch.

Black blood trickles down her skin.

Murphy goes, "What the fuck?"

"You were saying?" Lincoln asks, his eyes narrowing. "Everyone in Polis is searching for you because of the - " he cuts himself off abruptly. "Because you're you. Some are calling you a traitor, a coward. They think you're too scared to fight in the conclave."

If Glass weren't so distracted, she'd wonder why they were thinking of the conclave now, when the Commander is still alive.

"What do you think?" She demands.

"I think you're brave," Lincoln says. "Brave because you came here to start a war."

Her eyes widen.

"That is why you came here, isn't it?" Lincoln demands. "Somehow, Azgeda must have found out about the Sky people coming here and realized that they were weakening us. And you thought it was the perfect chance for Azgeda to finally eliminate us."

That's actually exactly what Glass's thought process was, and she hates that it was so easy to figure out. She also hates that she has no idea what to say now.

"What I don't get is why you came alone," he says. "Who in their right mind would send you?"

There's a beat. Glass waits for it to hit him.

"You aren't supposed to be here," he says, more quietly as he looks at her again with realisation dawning upon his features. "You came alone because it was against Roan's will. He didn't want to start a war, but you did... " Lincoln lets out a deep breath. "For a natblida novitiate, you really are a fool, aren't you?" He laughs hollowly. "Well, not that much of a fool. You'll get your war, natblida."

That. . . that doesn't sound like it's good. And the look on his face makes it perfectly clear that the war isn't going to go in Glass's favor.

"No," She exclaims. "No!"

"Neither of us can stop it," says Lincoln. "Once Anya finds out you're here... well, she can't kill you because it will dishonor Trikru in the conclave, but she can kill your people."

All of Azgeda. . .

All her people - slaughtered in droves. White snows stained red.

"No!" Glass cries out again, struggling against her restraints as if to fight Lincoln. She needs to think of something and she needs to think of something fast. "Can - can Trikru really bear an attack right now? When they're already losing another war to children?"