As they began to make their way through Osengrad, the town began to wake. Faces peered at them through dacha windows, eyes roving over Ana, then to her soldiers and the flag bearing thecrest of the Red Tigress they held. Her men knocked on doors and slipped posters where they could.
Word of their recruitment seemed to have spread through the entire town; children playing in the streets paused at their procession and pointed to Ana, whispering excitedly.
“That’s her, that’s her!”
“The Red Tigress is here!”
At their sight, Ana broke into a smile. She thought of the girl she had been, of the children she’d known—May, Yuri, Liliya, the Redcloaks—who’d lost their innocence too early.
The future belonged to them, and she would fight for it until her dying breath.
By the time they reached the town square, a sizable crowd had gathered. Mothers held their children close to them as fathers and young people held drafting scrolls in their hands. A wooden scaffold stood erected in the center of the square, built earlier that morning by a wood Affinite in their ranks. Torches had been erected at the corners.
Ana stopped her valkryf and dismounted. The movement was jarring; her knees nearly buckled under her weight, and for a moment, she held on to the saddle of her steed, steadying herself.
In the ranks of her soldiers, she somehow caught sight of Ramson and his Navy squad. His face was blank, but his eyes found her through the crowd.
Ana straightened. Walked to the center of the platform. Raised her hands, dug into the slumbering Affinities held in her siphons, called on one. Fire sparked to life in her palm, sweeping in an arc around her so that she was alight in its glow. The torches burst into flame, lighting the square.
She took time to catch her breath. This was an essential part of the performance: a show of her power to build confidence in her movement. It was also one that cost a lot of strength—strength that was ebbing away from her day by day.
Drawing a long breath, Ana lifted her chin and addressed the crowd gathered. “My fellow Cyrilians.” Her voice rang out clear and loud. “My name is Anastacya Mikhailov, and I am the Red Tigress of Cyrilia. Today, I come before you with a vow.
“The Empress Morganya promised us equality. She promised to protect Affinites. Yet three moons into her regime, and our empire burns at her hands. Our people are slaughtered by her forces.” She paused, sweeping her gaze around the square. “Morganya lied.”
She caught sight of Yuri in the midst of her troops and he gave her a small nod.
Ana continued. “Today, I ask you to fight with me. And my vow to you is this.” She raised a finger. “One: abolishment of persecution of both Affinites and non-Affinites. My government will, instead, lawfully investigate Affinite trafficking in this empire, and bring these practices to a stop—by fair means.
“Two: equality between Affinites and non-Affinites. My government will focus on policies put in place to promote a world where we can coexist. And wecan.How many of us have mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, people in our lives who are Affinites, or not? How many have lived under fear of persecution? I know I have.” Her tone shifted, power yielding to emotion. “I was the only Affinite in my family. My only wish was to be allowed to live, regardless of my Affinity.”
Silence stretched across the square.
Ana raised a third finger. “Three: a government made by the people and for the people.”
A collective intake of breath; murmurs all around.
She had come to expect this—it had happened many times before when she reached this point. Ana looked around and nodded solemnly. “You know me as the blood heir to the Mikhailov regime, the supposed rightful Empress to the throne. But…” She drew a breath. “The monarchy itself is an imperfect system with which to govern and is the reason our empire has had these pervading issues for so long. I want to put power in the hands of the people. Inyourhands.”
Ana paused. The torches flickered. She stepped forward, to the very edge of the scaffold. “Fight with me. Together, let us rebuild this empire. Together, let us rebuild this world. For the better.”
The town square was silent.
And then, out of nowhere, a cheer rose, growing louder and louder until the square thundered with applause. Threading down the streets, spilling over from the alleyways that led to the town square, the Red Tigress’s army, too, began to make noise, clanging swords on shields and walls in unison.
Yet in the midst of the celebration, something caught Ana’s eye. Ramson, standing stock-still in the crowd, his previously inscrutable expression morphing into one of alarm. His lips parted; he was mouthing something at her. He lifted his hand and tapped his fingers to his nose.
Ana mirrored his motion; it was then that she felt something hot and sticky trickling down her lips. She already knew what she would see before she drew her thumb and index finger back. They glistened crimson in the firelight.
She had a moment before her body convulsed with a cough—and liquid seeped into her mouth, tasting of copper. Black spots erupted in her vision; the last that she saw of the world was Ramson, shoving through the ranks of her army.
Ana was barely aware of her head hitting the wooden floor of the scaffold.
Darkness closed in.
Linn had forgotten how cold this land could be.
It felt as though she still had half a foot in a dream. The time at sea had gone by so fast and so painfully slowly at the same time. She’d woken up gasping in the middle of the night, dreaming of Kemeira yet feeling the dreaded lull of a ship, just as she had so many years ago.
