Hero, Traitor, Daughter. Морган Райс
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“Ah, you’re starting to see it now, aren’t you?” Stephania said. “All those people who were so quick to thank you for their freedom turned back to me just as quickly. I’ll have to watch them.”
“You’ll have to watch more than that,” Ceres snapped back. “You think the rebellion’s fighters will let you sit here playing queen? You think the combatlords will?”
“Ah,” Stephania said, with an exaggerated show of embarrassment that made Ceres dread what was coming next. “I’m afraid I have some bad news about your combatlords. It turns out that the best of fighters still dies when you put an arrow in his heart.”
She said that so casually, so tauntingly, yet if it was even half true it was enough to break Ceres’s heart. She’d fought alongside the combatlords. She’d trained alongside them. They’d been her friends and her allies.
“You just enjoy being cruel,” Ceres said.
To her surprise, she saw Stephania shake her head.
“Let me guess. You think I’m no better than that idiot, Lucious? A man who couldn’t enjoy himself in the slightest unless someone else was screaming? You think I’m like that?”
It seemed like a fairly accurate description from where Ceres was standing. Especially given everything that was likely to happen next.
“Aren’t you?” Ceres demanded. “Oh, I’m sorry, and there I was thinking that you’d put me in a stone pit, waiting to die.”
“Waiting for torture, actually,” Stephania said. “But that’s just you. You deserve everything you get after all you tried to take from me. Thanos was mine.”
Perhaps she really believed that. Perhaps she honestly felt that it was normal to try to murder your rivals in relationships and life.
“And the rest of it?” Ceres said. “Are you going to try to convince me that you’re basically a nice person, Stephania? Because I’m pretty sure that ship sailed the moment you tried to send me to the Isle of Prisoners.”
Perhaps she shouldn’t have made fun of her like that, because Stephania hefted a third bucket of water. She appeared to consider it for a moment, shrugged, and dumped it over Ceres in a wash of freezing cold.
“I’m saying that nice doesn’t come into it, you stupid peasant,” she snapped as Ceres shivered. “We live in a world that will try to take all you have from you without asking. Particularly if you’re a woman. There are always thugs like Lucious. There are always those who want to take and take.”
“So we fight them,” Ceres said. “We set people free! We protect them.”
She heard Stephania laugh at that.
“You actually believe that foolishness works, don’t you?” Stephania said. “You think that people are basically good, and all will be well if you just give them a chance.”
She said it as though it were something to mock, rather than a good philosophy for a life.
“That is not life,” Stephania continued. “Life is a war, fought any way you can find to fight it. You give no one power over you, and you take all the power you can, because that way you have the strength to crush them when they try to betray you.”
“I’m not feeling very crushed,” Ceres retorted. She wasn’t going to let Stephania see how weak she felt in that moment, or how empty. She was going to create the pretense of strength, in the hope that she might find a way for reality to follow.
She saw Stephania shrug.
“You will. Your rebellion is currently fighting a battle with the army of Felldust. It might win, and then I will trade you for a path out of the city with all the wealth I can take. My guess, though, is that Felldust will wash through the city like a wave. I will let them break against the walls of this castle, until they are ready to talk.”
“You think men like that will just talk to you?” Ceres demanded. “They’ll kill you.”
Ceres wasn’t sure why she gave Stephania that much of a warning. The world would be a better place if someone killed her, even if it was the armies of Felldust.
“You think I haven’t thought it through?” Stephania countered. “Felldust is fractious. It cannot afford to have its soldiers sitting, laying siege to a castle it cannot take. They would fight amongst themselves in weeks, if not before. They will have to talk.”
“And you think they’ll play fair with you?” Ceres asked.
Sometimes, she could barely believe the arrogance Stephania showed.
“I am not a fool,” Stephania said. “I have one of my handmaidens preparing to play the part of me for the first meeting, so that if they try to betray us, I have time to flee the city through the tunnels. After that, I will present you, kneeling and in chains, to First Stone Irrien. An offering with which to begin peace negotiations. And who knows? Perhaps First Stone Irrien will find himself… amenable to joining our two nations together. I feel I could do a lot alongside someone like that.”
Ceres shook her head at that thought. She would no more kneel on Stephania’s command than on that of any other noble. “You think I’m going to give you the satisfaction – ”
“I think that I don’t have to wait for you to give anything,” Stephania snapped back. “I can take anything I want from you, including your life. Remember that, in what follows: if it weren’t for this war, I would have shown you mercy, and just killed you.”
It sounded as though Stephania had as strange an idea about mercy as about everything else in the world.
“What happened to you?” Ceres asked her. “What made you into this?”
Stephania smiled at that. “I saw the world as it was. And now, I think, the world will see you as you are. I can’t kill you, so I’ll destroy the symbol you made yourself into. You’re going to fight for me, Ceres. Again and again, without the strength that made people think you were so special. In between, we’ll find ways to make it worse.”
That didn’t sound so different from anything Lucious or the royals had tried to do.
“You’re not going to break me,” Ceres promised her. “I’m not going to collapse and beg just for your entertainment, or your petty revenge, or whatever else you want to call it.”
“You will,” Stephania promised her in return. “You’re going to kneel before the First Stone of Felldust and beg to be his slave. I’ll make sure of it.”
CHAPTER SIX
Felene had stolen plenty of boats in her time, and she was pleased to find this one was one of the better ones. It wasn’t much more than a skiff, but it sailed beautifully, seeming to respond as quick as thought, feeling like an extension of herself.
“It would need more holes in it for that,” Felene said, moving to bail out water that had washed over the side. Even doing that hurt, and as for the times when she had to row because the wind had dropped…