KINGSLAYER

♕ 1 | 2 | 1 ♕

"This is even more glamorous than the fairytales make it out to be," Margaux said from beside Jaylah on the carriage's seat. She pulled back the curtains a sliver to watch the terrain pass by in a blur.

"Have you ever been attacked in one of these?" Ghislaine asked, her eyes fixed on the roof. Sonia gave her an odd look. "What? That's always what happens in the fairytales: the maiden is attacked in her carriage and a dashing gentleman comes to her rescue."

"Ooh, I hope that happens. Like in The White Bride when the lumberjack takes the injured heroine back to his forest cottage to take care of her."

"If I was injured and an unknown lumberjack took me into his forest cottage, I would assume I was in a horror story," Zensa said from where she sat straight-faced across from Jaylah.

"It's a romance story," Sonia was gentle to tell her. "We all grew up hearing it."

"And that is why you have been indoctrinated into thinking obsessive attention from strange men is good. You Paragonians are so starry-eyed."

"If it helps," Adelié muttered to her, "the strange lumberjack turns out to have been a prince the whole time."

"It does not."

"Oh yeah?" Ghislaine leaned toward Zensa with her elbows on her thighs. "You've told us the story about the crane-faced boy, so clearly the Tilanic do not have any better taste in childhood classics."

"Here, it is a rabbit-faced boy. And it is very inspirational," Jaylah remarked. Everyone else made faces at the oddness of it. Zensa nodded to Jaylah in self-superiority amidst the others' disgust.

As Ghislaine continued her rather one-sided squabble with Zensa, occasionally joined by Adelié's commentary, it occurred to Jaylah how little time she had for stories nowadays. She loved them, loved picking apart the subtle complexities in their narratives. Though as she thought about it further, she realized it might also have something to do with her chase of childhood enjoyment.

"You wouldn't hit a sick woman, would you?" Ghislaine was exclaiming, holding her hands over her face to protect it from Zensa's fist.

"You overestimate my moral code."

"You'll be very upset with yourself if you strain her and she faints again," Adelié reminded Zensa mildly as she watched.

Zensa paused to brush back her hair from her face to see Adelié. "I can assure you that is not the case."

"Don't you dare." Ghislaine had her knees hiked up to her chest to make herself as small as possible. "If you hurt me, Jaylah will kill you too."

The carriage fell silent. It was then that Jaylah realized they had caught wind of the servants' disposal. The Navrikans' doing, no doubt.

"Oh," Ghislaine whispered.

"Did you really have all those servants killed?" Sonia asked, her soft voice breaking the awkward span of silence.

"Of course. Anyone who poisons one of my friends within my home will suffer the consequences." When it seemed they were not convinced, she jerked her chin to Ghislaine. "Better them than her."

"But..." Adelié looked troubled. "Are you sure all of them deserved it? I mean, what if some of them were just innocent bystanders?"

"They were all complicit," Jaylah lied. "And therefore deserved it."

Adelié sat back, seeming less concerned but still wary. "What?" Zensa said when Adelié looked to her expectantly for a moment too long. "You believe I would let them nearly kill Ghislaine and walk free?"

"Aw." Ghislaine rested her hand over her heart. "I knew you cared about me."

Zensa shot her a look that could have frozen the sun.

Margaux shook her head, the sleek sides of her topknot shining. "I never know what conversations to expect with you people and I'm still surprised."

"You were the one to start the talk of handsome gentlemen," Sonia reminded her.

"That's hardly surprising," Adelié muttered, but covered it by clearing her throat.

The carriage came to a slow halt. The huntresses hung behind as Jaylah stepped onto the street. Before them was a modest townhome with a white-washed exterior in desperate need of repainting. The plaster moulding above the doorway was chipped and crumbling. One would have thought that a Czar would have found better accommodations for his daughter. Then again, Ermalai was an utter miscreant.

A young woman answered the door, and her body seemed to be inhabited by a stiff, horrified spirit at the sight of Jaylah. "Snezana?" she asked. The girl nodded, her jaw slack. "We need to have a conversation."

"You...you can come in," she said awkwardly, half-bowed, then gestured inward.

Jaylah obeyed, the huntresses following her. The interior was tight with them all packed inside the entryway, which also doubled as a kitchen area. "Do you want anything? I can get you something," Snezana said, rushing to rifle through the cupboards. "What would you like?"

"That will not be necessary," Jaylah said, nearly getting dizzy watching her frantic movements. "We will only stay long enough to talk about the Czar."

"Oh." Snezana stopped in her tracks. "Has my father sent you? And—and you're to marry my brother, I nearly forgot." Her face was painfully hopeful.

"He did not send me. But I can pass him along something from you if you tell me about yourself. Such as why you are here and not in the Gilded City."

"Sit wherever you please," she said, ushering the group into the minuscule sitting room. Zensa had to perch on the arm of Adelié's chair, which had a handmade quilt sling over the back. Ghislaine plopped herself on the ground.

"Um..." Snezana tucked an escaped piece of hair back under her headscarf. "My mother...is not the woman my father was married to at the time of my conception. Technically I am a legitimate child, but I also shed light upon my father's infidelity to the Czarina, who he was courting at the time. He loved my mother in the ways he didn't for his wife, though. She was always adamant about that."

"Your mother. Where is she?"

"She's here. She's in her bedroom. A few years ago, she caught the Spring Ache badly, and though her body recovered, her mind never truly did. She cannot remember anything besides my name now."

So Jaylah could not question her. A shame. "Ermalai cut ties with her then?"

"Oh, no. He has not contacted us since I was a child. I only recall him coming to our home in Tvelavat once, and even then, I only remember glimpses of his face. Of course, then the war displaced us. He never even tried to find me." There was such sorrow in her eyes. She had the sudden torment and lingering optimism of a kicked dog.

As she sat so close, Jaylah was able to pick out all the features she knew so well on Ermalai's face: the round, inky eyes, the way his mouth pulled down at the edges, even the way he ducked his chin down, as if trying to give the impression of a fuller jawline. Snezana looked more like him than Adrik ever did.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty three."

Three years Adrik's senior. She was a contester to the Navrikan throne. Suddenly, Ermalai's determination to keep her away made even more sense.

"I am going to bring you back with me," Jaylah said, feeling ages older than her. Like she was Jaylah's own younger sister. "My friends will help take care of you. And you will be able to finally see your father. Alright?"

Snezana looked shocked, but remained quiet for a long time. "Alright," she relented, her smile growing. "I can ask our neighbor to take care of my mother while I'm gone."

Jaylah smiled back at her, though not for the same reason. Ever since Ermalai struck her with that series of poisonings, she had been desperate for the most terrible, hideous idea to attack him with. And she just found it.