"Look upon your future husband," the king shoved my head lower, just over Isaac's. I closed my eyes and cringed, trying not to breathe him in, but our skin was practically touching. "For he shall give you a baby this night!"
"Stop it!" I screamed and struggled to pull myself up. "Stop it!"
"Oh? You don't like the suitor I've selected for you?" He pinched my neck. "Had you married him when he was alive, he might have been more appeasing."
"The priest," someone said and shoved an old man in a long brown robe into the room. He looked confused, like he wasn't sure why he was supposed to be here. Then he spotted Isaac on the floor and gasped. He looked to me, pinned down by my father and then back to Isaac. Enlightenment flared and he shook his head, retreating a step.
"You will marry them."
"Your majesty, he is—"
"You will marry them!" the king roared. "Now! Do it now!"
The priest looked at me with fear. He knew it was blasphemy; that Isaac was dead and I was being forced into an evil, unholy ceremony that he himself would have to perform. The priest gulped, glancing between me and Isaac and then back to my father. "Your majesty—"
"Say that one more time and you shall lose that holy head, priest. You are to marry them and ensure they consummate it."
At this, the old man's face paled. Another gulp. He looked at me, as if hoping I might reason with my father.
"What are you waiting for?" He hissed, releasing his hold of me. "Do it! Now!"
The priest blinked a few times, his jaw dropping as he searched his robes for something. The book? Would he actually perform the ceremony? I tried scrambling away but my father stood behind me, pinching my neck again and holding me next to Isaac. Blood seeped from his midsection and onto the floor beneath my knees, soaking them. I desperately wanted to crawl away but I couldn't move. The king gripped me with steel fingers, locking me to the spot. I might've been able to stab him but he stood behind me awkwardly and a group of soldiers gathered around us like an impenetrable circle.
How could I cut through all of them?
"W-we usually begin with a prayer," the priest cleared his throat, the book laying open in his palms. He gulped and stared down at Isaac, at the pool of blood drenching us. He cleared his throat again and focused on the book. "Oh Blessed is—"
"Block the door!" someone shouted. "They're getting in! They're getting in!"
"How many?"
"Four!"
Four?
"Priest!" my father shouted.
He nodded and blinked profusely, concentrating on his book again. "Oh Blessed is the one above all and to—"
"I said block it! I said—" the man gasped and fell to the floor with a loud plunk.
Shouts erupted as swords clanged together. Some of the guards abandoned their post to assist with the invasion, but the pinch on my neck grew stronger. My father wouldn't let me go. The commotion boomed louder as yells and shrieks ripped through the space and swords clashed and clanged around me. But I couldn't see a thing. I could only see the stone floor, stained with Isaac's blood.
"The bald one! Get the bald one!"
Dido?
"Finish it, Priest!" my father roared, spittle flying over me. His steel grip loosened in the sudden action and I used the distraction to push back. The priest scanned the scene, his mouth hanging open. He gulped, blinked a few times and finally glanced at my father. But he couldn't remember what he was doing, which made the king irate. "Marry them now!"
"Rozmarie?" Josiah's voice cut through the commotion.
Clang-Clang!
"Josiah?" I screamed. "Josiah!"
"Rozmarie!" he called and whipped one of the soldiers away from us. A piercing scream filled the air and then his body fell to the floor. Josiah came for me but another sword blocked him. And then another. But it wasn't just his two blades attacking this time. There were three. Two belonged to Josiah and the third belonged to, well, his exact copy. A little paler and thinner, with jade roots growing in, but still extremely alike.
The priest darted back but a pair of gloved hands held him there. "Do as your King commands!"
"Marry them!" my father roared.
Josiah and—Micah?—flew through the room and somewhere in the back, the blue flames crackled higher. And louder. But I couldn't see. The soldiers kept a tight circle around us, turning to block the brothers from attacking.
Clang-Clang!
The priest glanced from me to Isaac again before blinking down at the book in his hands. He gulped and opened his mouth. "Oh Blessed is—"
A storm of rocks flew through the room, pegging each soldier still guarding us. I ducked lower and wiggled out of my father's grasp. Then reached for my dagger. Through the soldier's frantic legs I spotted Dido's pale ones. Prairie stood beside him, rotating as he fired the slingshot.
"Don't worry, Rozmarie!" he called. "We's here for you!"
"Kill them all!" my father growled. "Kill every last—"
I stabbed him in the foot. The king shrieked and stumbled back as I jumped to a stand. Blue flames lit the back of the room and two bodies flew swiftly through it, swords up and metal hitting.
Clang! Clang!
Hands grabbed me and I whipped around, the tip of my blade nearly slashing my father's heart. He looked from it to me, his eyes dead, like he hated me, like I was nothing to him. He took the moment to knock the dagger from my hands. Then snatched me by my wounded shoulder. Tears stung my eyes. Every bit of agony screamed from his vise grip as he forced me back to my knees with a hard shove. "They are to be married! They are to consummate it and I AM TO HAVE MY HEIR!"
I'm not sure what it was—my father's voice, his final words or the blank look in Isaac's cold, dead eyes—but something inside me snapped. Like a light had finally been turned on. All the adrenaline and intensity rushed through me, strengthening me, hardening me. I wouldn't be his prisoner any longer. I refused. I was free the day I left and I was free now. I just had to enforce it.
I looked down. The tips of my nails glowed pink. The faint color moved up my fingers and grew into a dark magenta that engulfed my entire hands with the same crackling glow.
This was it.
I gripped my mother's dagger and moved to my feet. Then turned around.
My father's eyes widened at the magenta flames licking my arms, but he didn't move. He didn't say anything—only glanced from me to Isaac, to the priest fleeing the room as all his plans unraveled around him. He gulped and looked for help, but his once pristine bed-chamber now lay littered with the bloodied bodies of his personal guards. Josiah, Micah, Prairie and Dido moved around the remaining soldiers, easily overpowering them.
"You will no longer tell me what to do," I said.
The king took a step back, his eyes darting for a weapon.
"You will no longer terrorize this kingdom. It is our realm. Our home," I moved closer and squeezed the dagger through my humming hand. The magenta flame engulfed the length of my arms, all the way to my shoulders.
"I did what was best for the kingdom," he snapped.
"You did what was best for yourself."
"All I wanted was an heir!" he stumbled, his hands reaching for anything useful. A sword. A whip. Something. But there was nothing. No furniture. No weapons. Just a block of space between him and me. "All you had to do was give me an heir. That's it!" he backed into the wall. "And then your part was done!"
"And all I wanted was a father," I looked between his eyes, wishing that at some point during my life I might've seen some resemblance of love. Of caring. Or even kindness. But it was never there. Not even now, in our last moment together. Maybe I was angry. Or ashamed. Or already grieving the loss of something I never had, but I didn't feel myself lift the vibrating blade and plunge it deep inside his chest, straight through the center of his concaving heart. I didn't feel him quiver or my body shake at what I'd done. I didn't feel anything other than satisfaction of watching his mouth drop and his eyes roll back. "But I guess life isn't fair."
I withdrew the dagger and he slumped to the ground. He blinked only once, tried to move but fell forward, face down onto the floor. And stopped moving entirely.
The king was dead.
And I was really, truly free.
I let out a breath and turned, finding Josiah, Micah, Prairie and Dido standing over the rest of the fallen soldiers. I took one step but Josiah dropped both swords and ran toward me. He flung his arms around my body and lifted me into the tightest hug I'd ever been given. The magenta flames sizzled to nonexistence as his warmth flooded me, his own blue fire diminishing back into his skin.
"You and me together from now on," he whispered in my ear. "Yeah?"
I nodded and shut my eyes, reveling in the feel of being wrapped in his arms. Nothing had felt so right. Tears stung, threatening to erupt so I pulled back and wiped the evidence away. Then noticed Micah, Dido and Prairie looking on with interest. I sniffled, wiped my eyes again and smiled at Josiah's twin. "You must be Micah."
He nodded, looked at his brother, then back at me. He stepped forward and took my hand like a gentleman would. "Pleased to meet you. I've heard many great things about you, Princess."
"Rozmarie," I laughed. "Please."
"Of course," he bowed awkwardly, "y-your majesty."
The sound of the title shook me back to reality as I peeked at my dead father on the floor. Oh, that's right. He was dead. I killed him. Which made me the last living blood descendent. The kingdom belonged to me now. Not my father. Not Isaac. But me.
"I guess the responsibility is mine now."
"And what you could do with such power," Dido said. "This kingdom has been in much need of repair. Perhaps, Princess Rozmarie, your healing hands hold the power. What do you think? Will this be the moment your realm has eagerly been awaiting?"