“As you all are aware, it was Mistress Loran who was most instrumental in bringing about this victory. Her sword sliced through the Empire’s Powered chariots as if they were turnips. She saved many Arlanders who would have otherwise died at Imperial hands. It was also Mistress Loran who passed judgment on Arland’s prefect Hesperus, who had been weaseling out of his complicity.”
More clapping and cheers. Loran nodded in acknowledgment, out of courtesy more than anything.
“But even victories have their price. Even in this moment, the main contingent of the Twenty-Fifth Legion is on its way here. Legate Aurelia is losing sleep in her thirst for vengeance, no doubt. If we do not prepare for this, the world shall remember us as fools who insisted on starting what they could not finish.” Very briefly, Gwaharad’s gaze fell on Loran.
The banquet hall filled with murmurs of assent. The doors opened, and some soldiers brought in kegs and goblets. As everyone took a goblet, Gwaharad looked at Loran from his place across the room and spoke in a voice that sounded almost humble.
“Princess, what say you—will you surrender yourself to the Empire?”
The almost hundred people at the banquet fell completely silent. Loran turned her face to Gwaharad. His eyes avoided hers, instead darting among his staff. She had expected something like this to happen, but actually hearing those words, in that placating tone, made her heart ache and veins burn.
Gwaharad continued, almost pleading, “That is not what I myself wish at all, but they will not be satisfied until they have you. Think of Arland, of all of the Three Kingdoms. Lay yourself down for the good of all.”
Some looked back and forth between Loran and the king, their expressions incredulous. Others were nodding silently. While she wasn’t surprised by his request, she didn’t answer right away. She needed to hear every word Gwaharad had prepared for this audience.
“It’s a matter of time before the Twenty-Fifth Legion arrives in full force,” Gwaharad continued. “How noble would it be to save a whole country with just one life? You have already done more than one person possibly can. Having burned down the prefect’s castle and destroyed an entire Powered century, you have ensured that the Empire shall never again attempt the kind of tyranny that they had undertaken in your land.”
He sounded almost convincing. Loran tried to keep the mockery out of her voice as she said, “I am honored by His Majesty’s great concern for Arland.”
“This is not merely a matter for Arland. We aided in what happened, so the Empire’s ire will extend to Kamori.”
“Is that what you fear, Your Majesty?”
The banquet hall, already quiet, somehow became even more silent. As if the world itself had stopped breathing.
Even Gwaharad seemed momentarily taken aback. Loran could feel her left eye beginning to see once more. The silence in the room was a thunder of fear.
“It is,” said Gwaharad. “There are two hundred brave men and women gathered here. I cannot throw away their precious lives because a guest overreached herself.”
Murmurs again. Emere, sitting beside Gwaharad, kept his head down and his eyes trained on his plate.
“And for what purpose, then, have these two hundred people gathered?”
“Certainly not to die because of your recklessness.”
“Then have they gathered here so you can play soldier, Your Majesty?”
Belwin, also sitting next to Gwaharad, leaped to her feet. The scar on her shaved head had turned bright red.
“Do you mean to insult everyone here?”
Several other officers stood. Loran also stood, and bowed deeply. She turned to the room.
“There are two hundred gathered in this palace to fight for Kamori. I have not heard of even ten Arlanders gathering to fight the Empire. Because Hesperus had massacred innocents based on suspicion alone, nobody dares rebel. Kamori is truly a country of warriors.” Loran paused. “But I did not know any of you existed. Nor did I know there was a King Gwaharad until I met him in Dehan Forest.”
A few people made to stand but sat down again. Uncomfortable coughs.
“The day I returned to Arland, two people died by the hands of the Empire in the square. But because of those two people, four chariots were destroyed, and that heinous prefect was finally killed. Those two murdered people were precious lives. But with such precious lives…”
Her husband and daughter… Her right knee almost buckled. Perhaps she was too agitated. Loran placed both her hands on the table to steady herself.
“Such precious lives were being bargained on the prefect’s table for a few gold coins. I could not stand there listening to suchthings. I may not be the child of a king, but I have styled myself a princess. Many may scoff at me for doing so, but as long as I have, there are things I would rather die than do.”
Her legs were about to give way. She tried to lean on the table again but her hands were limp; she could only grip the tablecloth with her fingernails as she fell to her knees, bringing down the tablecloth and some of the plates with her. The plates shattered around her. She tried to stand, but her legs were too weak. Her hand gripped the hilt of her sword but her arm was not listening to her. More murmurs. Shouting. Soldiers approaching… five? Seven? A dozen? Her vision was blurring. Loran stared at Gwaharad. He had stood up and was looking down at her from his seat.
“… You’ve poisoned me? Because you feared the legion’s retaliation? Because I might not agree to surrender?” A bitter, weak laugh escaped Loran. “Why do any of you pretend you fight?”
Even speaking was difficult now.
