Ash Princess (Ash Princess Trilogy #1)(108)

The fact that I was the one who killed Ampelio must not have made it all the way down here. If he knew that, he wouldn’t be laughing. Still, the comparison makes pride bloom in my chest.

The man gives a shallow bow. “Guardian Santino, at your service, Your Highness. Guardian Hylla and Guardian Olaric, as well.”

The other two Guardians echo his sentiments, but I’m too surprised to really hear them. Guardians, alive. I thought Ampelio had been the last, but the Kaiser was keeping three prisoner right below my feet. While their names don’t sound familiar, I hardly knew all of them.

“Pleasure,” I say, inclining my head. Despite everything, I can’t help but smile. “I’m surprised the Kaiser didn’t kill you. Foolish of him to leave Guardians alive.”

Hylla gives a snort. “Ah, but why kill us when he can harvest us?” she says, showing me one of her arms, covered in deep cuts, old and new. There are gashes as well, where it looks like her flesh was carved out. “Blood drawn six, seven times a day for his experiments. Skin scraped away. Fingers cut off for the bones.” She shows me a hand that has only her thumb, pointer, and ring finger remaining.

Just as quickly as it came, my smile slides away. Nausea rises in my stomach again, though this time it has nothing to do with the smell. S?ren knew about this, I remind myself, and in his silence he approved of it. I want to step away from him, but I can’t. I bury my fractured heart deep in my chest. “You’ll join us?” I ask.

“We need to hurry,” S?ren says, and I can hear the irritation in his voice.

“We’ll only slow you down,” the other man—Olaric—says, leaning most of his weight against the cell door to keep upright. “But we can keep them busy.”

“You can barely stand,” I point out.

“If your rebel prinkiti could spare a few of his gems, we could certainly hold our own,” Hylla says with a sniff. “Earth for me, Fire for the others.”

Next to me, S?ren tenses, knowing he’s being mocked, and I put a hand on his arm to calm him.

“They were sworn to protect my mother,” I tell him in Kalovaxian. “And therefore me. They want to give up their lives to buy us time, but they need gems to put up any kind of fight. One Earth, two Fire. Do you have any?” I ask, though I know he does. I can feel them even now, prickling the air between us. I’ve been around them so often, I barely notice them anymore, but I can always feel them.

He sighs before fiddling around for a moment. The Earth Gem he pries from the hilt of his sword, using the strength it provides him. The Fire Gems are torn from the lining of his cloak. Even in the dim light, they wink like distant stars. He passes them out, but I know he’s not happy about it.

“You trust them?” he whispers to me.

I don’t trust anybody. I certainly don’t trust you.

“Yes,” I say.

“We’ll keep the men busy,” Hylla tells me.

Next to her, Olaric grows a ball of fire in the palm of his hand, just large enough to illuminate the five of us. It’s difficult to tell through the dirt and dried blood covering most of their faces, but they’re younger than their voices led me to believe, a decade younger than Ampelio, at least. They might have been a little older than me before the siege, freshly trained and excited for the life laid out in front of them. I can’t imagine they saw it leading here. When Olaric’s eyes fall on me, the corners soften and he almost smiles. He must have been handsome once, and the kind of man who knew it.

“You look like your mother. Sound like her, too,” he says in Astrean. “When I see her in the After, I’ll give her your regards.”

I want to tell him not to be foolish, that we’ll meet again, but I know better than that. The next time I see them will be in the After, and I hope I won’t join them there for a long time yet. They go into this battle knowing they won’t come out the other side alive.

More people dying for me. And why? What have I done to deserve it?

“Thank you,” I say, and ignoring the stench, I step forward and kiss each of them on the cheek in turn. “May the gods guide you.”

“Long live the Queen of Astrea,” they recite back before Olaric snuffs out his fire again and their footsteps fall away.

I stay rooted to the spot until I can’t hear them anymore. Finally, S?ren puts a hand on my waist and guides me forward. For a long moment, he doesn’t speak, but after we turn another corner, he clears his throat.

“I don’t know any of my father’s men who would willingly die for him,” he says. “Your people love you.”

“They don’t even know me,” I say. They wouldn’t lift a finger for me if they knew the things I’ve done. “But they loved my mother more than enough to make up for it.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, and I’m glad, because I’m not sure what I want to hear. The Guardians’ words keep repeating in my mind, burning through me with enough hope to keep me putting one foot in front of the next into an uncertain future. You really are Ampelio’s daughter. You look like your mother. Sound like her, too. Long live the Queen of Astrea.





FOOTSTEPS GROW LOUDER BEHIND US as I wind through the maze of dank, dark hallways, running my hands over the walls, looking for the hidden passageway. The sound is heavy and synchronized. Soldiers. They’re still far away, but they’re approaching fast. Underneath that, I hear the sounds of a fight: shouts of surprise, cries of pain, the thud of bodies landing heavily on the stone floor. S?ren listens intently while I search for the hole, more desperate than ever.