Chapter One

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NB: Please take a look at the trigger warnings page if you feel these may apply to you. This story contains triggering content throughout, and I won't be warning within the text.

This is NOT a story about an abused person falling in love with her abuser.

XX


Jayde straightened her shoulders as a sea of eyes swept toward her entourage. She tried to look straight ahead, avoiding the smiling faces and searching gazes. She urged herself to act victorious. They had won. Shuntany was free of the Empire at last. She had dreamed of this day ever since her father was hung ten years ago. Ever since Luc was taken. 

Then why did she feel so empty?

She urged her horse forward until she rode next to Luther. He didn't look at her as she searched his face, and somehow she knew that he felt the same. So few had returned. They had left the battlefield strewn with their enemies, but also more than half of their own soldiers. It was not the sweeping defeat that the Resistance had predicted. Jayde had failed her soldiers, and so had Luther. As the leaders of the Resistance they had filled their men and women with mead and visions of victory the night before – they had foolishly believed it would be an easy battle. 

As the parade dissipated, Luther wordlessly returned to his home, and Jayde to hers. She watched him walk away and wished that he would at least look at her. They were the only two people who could understand each other in a time like this. She needed him now more than ever. With Shuntany free of the Empire, the citizens from Aésadel and all of the kingdom would look to them for leadership. She felt sick to her stomach by the time she reached her home. The door yawned before her, and suddenly the simple decorations and neatly placed furniture seemed lonely. How had she lived alone for so many years? The silence was nearly unbearable.

Jayde took a flask of whiskey from her cupboard and sank into a chair at her broad wooden table. When she took a sip, the foul liquid scorched her throat and made her wince, but she savored the flavor all the same. It would be a long night. 

A knock on the door caused Jayde to start, and she nearly knocked over her flask. She rose to unbolt the door and allow her guest inside.

"You're missing the celebration." Kariyah stood in the evening air. She wore a fresh gown, but her sword still hung in its sheath at her hip. 

"I'm too tired for festivities." Jayde smiled at the dark look she received. "I'm sure there will be celebration enough the rest of the week for me to attend." Leaning from the doorway, her friend peered into the darkened room beyond. 

She pushed gently past Jayde, pulling the door shut behind her. "I know you're drinking alone in here. I'm not going to let you be miserable tonight."

Jayde's shoulders slumped as she watched Kariyah take a sip from the flask. She would rather be miserable alone than in the company of others. When her intruder settled in, she realized that there would be no getting rid of her. Sighing, she settled across the table from her.

"Give me that," she muttered. Taking a couple sips, she found herself already pleasantly dizzy. They drank in silence for a long while, until both had decided they were drunk enough. Jayde leaned back in her chair and watched Kariyah search her face. 

"You know," her friend began, leaning forward. "There was not a single man or woman on the battlefield who died with regret." Jayde groaned inwardly. She didn't want to talk about this right now, not with Kariyah, who always seemed so lighthearted and positive. But as she stared across the table, she saw that her friend's eyes were burning brightly. "I know that you feel responsible for their deaths. But in believing that, I think you are dishonoring them."

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