The Lady of O’khasis

by bunterasu

Summary:

Instead of dooming his life, Jeffory captures Aphmau and takes her to O’khasis to be married to High Priest Zane, her mortal enemy. In the process, she’s the Lady Princess of O’khasis, one of the most powerful figures in the game. Will she spent the rest of her days endlessly slaving away to Zane’s will — or can she find a way to break herself out of O’khasis’s lonely, gray walls?

Chapter 1: 1. Forest Travel

Aphmau, despite only knowing a single Jury member for about the space of a day, had expected him to keep his seemingly cheerful and innocent attitude each time they encountered one another. Obviously, this was not the case, because Aphmau was tied in place on a horse behind him, forbidden to speak lest he throw her off.

 

It wasn’t unbearable — Jeffory’s body was warm despite the cold, and she had dozed off several times, resting her cheek on his back. But now the cold was starting to catch up to her. Jeffory had given her a cloak, but it wasn’t doing much for her. She shivered and wished her arms were free so she could rub her arms. But they were tied together in front of Jeffory, and if she wanted to be freed, she’d have to jump off the horse and bring him down with her, and she wasn’t looking forward to doing that.

 

Jeffory seemed to read her thoughts, because he gently pulled on the reins of the horse to slow her. “Woah, woah,” he said gently, patting the horse’s neck. “We’ll stop here for the evening.” He said stiffly, more to himself than her. “We can warm ourselves up before we reach O’khasis tomorrow.”

 

Aphmau shivered, and it wasn’t from the cold. For a few days now they’d been en route to O’khasis for her to become engaged to High Priest Zane. She felt sick just thinking about it — she had met Zane once, in Phoenix Drop, when he came to marry Donna and Logan, and already despised him. Not only did he hate his older brother, Garroth, Aphmau’s head guard and best friend, but he cursed a baby girl in the village, Alexis, to become a Shadow Knight and left Aphmau’s friend Kiki with a pendant that was supposed to turn into a baby. He had demanded her hand in marriage recently, and Jeffory had captured her in Pikoro Village. Now that deal was finally going to be struck.

 

Jeffory slung her arms over his head and dismounted the horse, reaching up and picking Aphmau up, bridal style, off of it. She would’ve felt like a princess if her wrists weren’t tied together. He set her down on the ground and tied the horse’s reins to a tree. “Stay here,” he ordered. “And if I come back and you’re gone, there’ll be an unfortunate accident on the way back to O’khasis.”

 

Aphmau could easily tell he was bluffing. Jeffory seemed like too nice a man to ever harm her. He was as sweet as a button to her, and hadn’t laid a finger on her since they left. He let her have a majority of the blankets when they camped for the night and, on his more generous days, let her walk alone to nearby streams and brooks to drink. But mostly, he was quiet, obviously thinking hard.

 

Jeffory came back a few minutes later. “There’s a stream nearby,” he told her. He dropped the bundle of sticks and cedar he had been carrying. “I’ll let you go by yourself if you swear you’ll come right back here.”

 

Aphmau managed to laugh. “I have no idea where we are. If I were to run off, I’d probably run off of a cliff.”

 

Jeffory’s cheeks briefly turned red, but he just attempted to glare at her. “Whatever. Just go there and come right back.”

 

Aphmau got up and retraced his steps into the forest, quickly finding the stream he was talking about. Kneeling on the bank, she cupped some water into her hands and drank. After she had her fill, she got back up and went back to the camp.

 

Jeffory already had a fire up and going, and was sorting food out in front of him. Aphmau sat down across from him, but he didn’t seem to notice her. He stuck another piece of cedar into the fire and then looked up at her. They held eye contact for a few moments before he looked away. He looked guilty.

 

Aphmau leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Jeffory,” she said softly. “I can tell you feel bad.”

 

The brunette kept staring at the ground. “I’m not,” he mumbled. “I’m serving my prince.”

 

“The prince who’s a tyrant,” Aphmau insisted. “You said it yourself. Zane’s rule has brought nothing but misery to the whole region. You know it too.”

 

“That’s treason,” Jeffory said coldly, looking up through the curls that hung into his face. “I could execute you right here and now for that.”

 

“But you won’t,” Aphmau pointed out. “I know you’re a good man, Jeffory. Even though you’re taking me to Zane, there’s a part of you that wants to let me go.”

 

Jeffory’s gloves hands curled into fists in his lap, but he kept staring at his feet, which were making arcs in the dirt.

 

“I need to get back to my village,” Aphmau insisted, hoping she was getting to him. “I have two little boys that need me. You understand that — you have your little girl. Ab-“

 

“Do not invoke her name,” Jeffory suddenly demanded, standing. His glaive was suddenly in his hands; Aphmau didn’t see where it came from. The wicked sharp tip was just inches from Aphmau’s nose. The high flames licked hungrily at the golden blade.

 

Aphmau’s eyes slowly traveled up the blade to look at Jeffory’s face. From what she had noticed, he was a big crybaby, as he had teared up in the tavern when he spoke about his daughter and down in the well. That side of him was showing now; his kelly eyes were glossy and gleaming from tears hovering on his long eyelashes.

 

“Oh, Irene, don’t cry,” Aphmau exclaimed, standing abruptly. The glaive brushed against her nose, and she felt her skin tear as the blade dragged against flesh.

 

Wincing, Aphmau reached up to touch her nose. Her fingers came away covered in blood. Jeffory’s glaive fell to the ground and he was across the fire in a single bound, seizing his cape as he effortlessly tore away a strip of cloth.

 

“I-I’m so sorry,” He stammered, pressing the emerald cloth to her nose. “I should’ve never pulled my weapon on a lady. I’m sorry, this is my fault.”

 

“Jeffory, it’s fine,” Aphmau chastised him, smiling over the green cloth that was now stuck to her nose by the blood. Their faces were very close. “It’s just a scratch; it’ll heal.”

 

Jeffory blinked. His olive eyes were still sparkly. He rubbed his hand gruffly against his cheek. “I don’t think you’ve been cut by a Jury weapon before,” he pointed out, reaching forward and applying pressure to the scratch. “They’re especially sharp. And the scar will last for longer. It might be there for the wedding.”

 

Aphmau smirked, meeting his gaze. “That’s just something Zane will have to deal with.”

 

Jeffory looked uncertain for a moment, as if he was still trying to figure out what she meant, but then he smiled too, even laughing a little. That was the Jeffory Aphmau had briefly known in the Pikoro tavern — the one that laughed easily and was able to share anything with her. For a moment, that bond of trust they had felt at that tavern returned. But as soon as Aphmau reached back up to take off the cloth, that sense of formality returned to Jeffory, as his shoulders tended again — Aphmau found herself wondering if he was sore all the time from being so rigid —  and he reached forward to help her gently peel it off. The bleeding had stopped, and the only thing that remained was a dull ache on the bridge of her nose.

 

“Again, I’m so sorry about that,” Jeffory repeated, stepping back around the fire. Evening had truly fallen, and Aphmau was grateful for the fire. With the nighttime came a chill, and she wrapped her cloak around her the best she could.

 

“Oh—gosh, here,” Jeffory said, leaning forward and taking her hands. With a few nimble movements of his fingers, the rope fell away into the fire.

 

“Oh, wow, thanks,” Aphmau replied, gently rubbing her wrists before looking up at Jeffory.

 

He managed a smile. “A nice lady such as yourself shouldn’t need those.”

 

A while later, they collected their blankets from the horse’s saddlebags and were getting ready for bed. Aphmau had gone back to the stream to get a drink, and noticed the sides of the stream were beginning to freeze. Hurrying back to the camp, she nearly tripped over Jeffory’s already sleeping body. They had put out the fire, for fear they might attract bandits. Aphmau felt her way around Jeffory and crawled into her own blankets. The ground was cold and wet from dew, but the embers of the fire still gave her a little bit of warmth. She yawned, and glanced up at the moon, seemingly content. All of that warmth flooded out of her when she kept staring at the satellite, and she felt the cold night become even colder.

 

Garroth was looking at that same moon. So was Laurance, Dante, Levin, Malachi...she hoped Zoey was remembering their bedtimes. She felt tears tickle the edges of her eyes, and she rolled over so that in the off chance Jeffory awoke, he wouldn’t see her bawling.

 

She wanted to go home. Home to her warm house, home to people who wouldn’t tie her up or refuse her the luxury of speaking. She had to remind herself that Jeffory was a member of the Jury of Nine — Zane’s guards. He was on the bad guy’s side. He could change on a dime. He couldn’t be trusted.

 

Aphmau’s heart ached when she thought of Phoenix Drop.

Notes:

Hi everyone who bothered to read this!! I’ve had an idea on my mind recently, basically a “what if” storyline. Apparently there’s a lot of these?? but I haven’t seen any personally so here’s my take on a “What if Zane married Aphmau” AU. Zanemau is pretty okay in my opinion, it’s cute, they have chemistry in MyStreet. Not so much Diaries, but I think it would’ve been a forced marriage either way. Zane only really saw Aph as a power figure, and that’s exactly what’s happening here! A power move so he can get a powerful ally on his side. Though he’s soon to find out it’s what what he was expecting >:3

Hope you enjoying and stay tuned for chapter 2!

Chapter 2: 2. A Queen’s Arrival

Aphmau had vivid dreams that night. Of Garroth, Laurance, Dante, and everyone else at the village. In all her dreams, Phoenix Drop was burning. The playground outside was melting from the heat, and the wheat fields were a sea of flames. Fire licked from every window. In each dream, Zane stood beside her as they watched the town burn. But Aphmau was holding the match.

 

Aphmau jolted awake from the last of these horrid dreams, where she had watched Dante being burned alive inside the guard station. His terrifying screams still filled her ears as she rubbed her eyes and tried to catch her breath.

 

“Good morning,” Jeffory said pleasantly from where he was saddling the horse. “Did you sleep well?”

 

“Um—“ Aphmau was hesitant to share her dreams. She and Jeffory might be friends, but he was still a Juror. She remembered the conversation she had with herself last night. “Yes. I slept fine.”

 

Jeffory looked over his shoulder to smile at her. “Good. As soon as I get the horse watered—“

 

He was cut off as a stone flew through the air from the bushes and hit him right in the side of the head.

 

Aphmau gasped as the stone fell to the ground and Jeffory whispered “ow”, reaching up to rub his head. Turning around, he unsheathed his glaive. “Who’s there?” He demanded.

 

The bushes were silent, before a man wrapped in leather and furs burst out and attacked Jeffory. Aphmau shrieked as the man however Jeffory over, hacking at him with a knife. Jeffory expertly caught ever blow with his glaive and managed to heave the man off of him. But two more masked bandits took his place.

 

“Aphmau, run!” Jeffory shouted at her as he fended off the two bandits. “Take the horse! Get out of here!”

 

Aphmau scrambled to her feet and tried to run for the horse, but a pair of sturdy arms wrapped around her waist and yanked her back. She screamed as she was wrestled to the ground by another bandit.

 

“Ooh, pretty lady,” He seethed, foul-smelling breath puffing into Aphmau’s face. “My friends and I will have fun with you!”

 

Screaming, Aphmau attempted to kick the bandit off of her and silently cursed Jeffory for taking away her sword. She found if she kept moving it was difficult for the bandit to get a good grip on her, but she was slowly tiring out. She glanced over at Jeffory to see a bandit sink his dagger into a chink in his armor in his leg, and he went down on one knee, still fending off another bandit. The bandit with the dagger seized his head by his hair and yanked his head back, exposing his freckled neck.

 

“No!” Aphmau wailed, fighting ever harder against the bandit that had her pinned. The bandit pressed the dagger to Jeffory’s neck, drawing blood — until an arrow came out of nowhere and struck the bandit in his neck, centimeters away from Jeffory’s own head. The difference was so minute that Aphmau couldn’t tell if the arrow had been aimed for Jeffory or the bandit.

 

The bandit fell over, dead, and the other bandit looked around in confusion. Another arrow whizzed into the clearing and sank into the bandit’s arm, causing him to let go of Jeffory. The Juror fell to the ground, pressing a gloved hand to the wound in his neck and panting hard.

 

The man over Aphmau released her and tried to make a break for the trees. However, a brilliant white stallion galloped out of the trees, a helmeted knight astride it. They had a bow and arrow in their hands, and pulled back on the string and let the arrow fly at the bandit. The arrow sailed over Aphmau’s head and sank into the bandit’s back.

 

The knight stopped their horse and dismounted, running over to Jeffory. Kneeling next to him, they yanked off their helmet. Fluffy, powder blue hair fell into pale blue eyes framed by dark lashes. Aphmau realized that the woman had the same uniform as Jeffory, except she wore a blue skirt instead of a banner at her waist and the jewels embedded in her armor were blue diamonds instead of emeralds.

 

“Six Warriors, you’re stupid,” the woman scolded as she ripped a piece of her skirt to press to his neck. It seemed to be Jury etiquette to never bring bandages.

 

“I was just trying to protect her,” Jeffory coughed, some blood dribbling from his mouth. The woman wiped it away and glanced at Aphmau. Her eyes widened, and she looked back at Jeffory. “She’s the Lady Princess?” She whispered.

 

“Not yet,” Jeffory said, staggering to his feet. “What are you doing so far from O’khasis?”

 

The woman laughed. “Far from O’khasis? No. The gates are less than five miles from here, stupid.” She ruffled Jeffory’s hair, and Aphmau got the feeling the two were close.

 

“Aphmau, you’re okay, right?” Jeffory asked, coming over to help her to her feet. “That man didn’t touch you, right?”

 

“No, I’m fine,” Aphmau replied, brushing dirt off of her dress. When she saw the woman staring at her, she dropped into an immediate curtsy. “My lady.”

 

The woman snorted. “No need for such formalities, Lady Aphmau. I’ve been told a lot about you. My name is Lady Katelyn the Fire Fist, of the Jury of Nine.”

 

Aphmau ducked into an ever deeper curtsy. “M-My lady!”

 

Katelyn laughed. “I can see why Zane wanted her as Lady Princess.”

 

Aphmau flinched and Jeffory’s smile disappeared. He whispered something into Katelyn’s ear, and she didn’t bring it up again.

 

“Come on,” she said. “Zane is expecting you.”

 

Katelyn mounted her horse and Jeffory and Aphmau got on theirs. Katelyn steered them back into the path and, within a matter of minutes, Aphmau could see the soaring walls of O’khasis.

 

“Welcome to your prison, Lady Aphmau,” Jeffory said darkly.

 

As they rode through the streets of the city, people seemed to recognize Jeffory and Katelyn as Jury members, because they quickly ducked their heads and hurried away. Some more curious people stared at Aphmau, whispering. She supposed they thought she was some sort of special guest or maybe even a prisoner. Both would describe her situation.

 

Finally they got to the more prestigious quarter of O’khasis, where the noble families lived. They passed the magnificent Hall of Angels, which Aphmau had only read about — a magnificent hall that was supposed to be a direct replica of the fabled Irene Dimension. It was where the High Priests held sermons about Lady Irene weekly. She had read that the only times the doors were closed, a High Priest was present inside — and to her dismay, the doors were wide open.

 

A few blocks down stood to Ro’meave palace, which she had also read about. It was a sprawling palace that took up four whole city blocks and was built on a natural cliff, overlooking the sea. The tallest tower — the Spire of Esmund — was the tallest point in the city. Each tower had blue shingles and the Ro’meave family crest — a black cross on a white field — flying on the top. The outer gates of the palace swung open as they neared, and shut behind them when they entered.

 

A few stableboys came and took their horses, and Jeffory and Katelyn led Aphmau up the steps.

 

“Zane’s expecting you,” Katelyn said as they walked into the main hall. Twin spiraling staircases were on each side of the room. Katelyn led them towards a the left one.

 

At the top of the staircase was a set of huge double doors. Aphmau’s heart began to pound, and she reached for Jeffory’s hand for comfort. But he only shook it away without saying anything, his eyes trained on the door. The guards and either side opened it, and Katelyn and Jeffory ushered her in.

 

The throne room was long, with windows on one side showing off the view of a sprawling garden. Pillars were at regular intervals, with fancy lanterns hanging in between them. A raised dais at the end of the hall held a magnificent golden throne. Seven intimidating, unmoving soldiers stood around it, hands on their weapons or behind their backs.

 

Aphmau hesitantly started the walk down the long red carpet towards the throne. Zane stood out like a sore thumb among all the whites and royal blues of the room — he wore his priest robes and mask, but now his hair was pulled back into a small ponytail at the base of his skull. He held his cheek in his hand, looking bored. His single visible eye took in Aphmau’s every step.

 

Finally she stopped at the foot of the dais, refusing to make eye contact with the other soldiers, which Aphmau assumed were other Jurors. Though the closest one was bulky enough to still peek into Aphmau’s peripheral vision — a tall, muscular man with stark blonde hair, blazing blue eyes, and so many scars on his face Aphmau couldn’t tell if he was frowning or smiling.

 

Zane stood up from his throne and approached her. Aphmau saw that his gaze was glittering with glee. “Lady Aphmau,” He said smoothly, sweeping into a bow as he took her hand and pressed it to his mask. “It’s an honor to have you in our humble city.”

 

Aphmau gently tugged her hand away. “The honor is all yours,” she growled.

 

Zane straightened up. “You must be wondering why you’re here,” he said. “Or perhaps you already know.”

 

“Of course I know,” Aphmau spat. “You stole me from my guards, dragged me through the whole region and you expect me to marry you just like that? What kind of person does that?”

 

Zane didn’t answer immediately. Instead he reached forward and seized her face in one hand, pulling her close. She winced as she had to go up a step so she wouldn’t trip.

 

The high priest ran a gloved finger over the scar in her nose; Aphmau had forgotten it was even there.

 

“How did this get here?” He growled. “It looks recent.”

 

“That was me, your highness,” Jeffory said quickly before Aphmau could defend him. He strode forward so he was standing right next to Aphmau. “It was an accident. It was my fault.”

 

Zane’s eye blazed and he shot out a hand, striking Jeffory on the cheek. Jeffory stumbled down a step and Katelyn caught him, steadying him. Jeffory held his cheek and looked back up at Zane, his eyes watering.

 

“You scar my bride days before her wedding?” Zane snarled. “She’ll be scarred for the ceremony.”

 

“I’m not marrying you!” Aphmau exclaimed. She balled her hands into fists. “You don’t control my actions.”

 

Zane’s eye burned. “I didn’t ask you for your opinion!” He seethed. “You are marrying me in three day’s time, and you will not complain, not whine, and not cry about it!”

 

“No!” Aphmau exclaimed, swinging her hand around to try and hit him. But the large blonde Juror that she had seen earlier caught her arm and pulled her away from Zane.

 

“Let me go!” Aphmau wailed, kicking and trying to fight off the Juror. But it was like trying to hit a stone wall — he was firm and solid and didn’t even try to calm her down.

 

“Sir Janus, take Lady Aphmau to her room,” Zane said smoothly. “She’ll remain there until the ceremony.”

 

“You’re disgusting!” Aphmau yelled at him as Janus dragged her away. “Now I see why Garroth left! You’re wicked!”

 

Zane’s face contorted, but Janus yanked her out of the hall and slammed the door before she could hear the priest’s response.

Notes:

Zane really said “ 凸(｀△´＋）“

if you haven’t noticed already Jeffory is my favorite Juror (besides Ivy and Lillian BABIES) and I’ll be writing him a lot.

Also a heads up because the Jurors are about to become a huge part of the story: we had 2 Jurors we never knew about + one that Garroth took the place of, so I replaced them with Ein, Teony, and Blaze. And you might be asking, “wait wasn’t Blaze part of the wolf tribe in s3?” Yes, he was, and I’m fitting that into this story.

(I made this Jury lineup before I knew Blaze was in the wolf tribe, so in my normal S3 AUs hes replaced with Alex from PDH.)

Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Something Old, Something New

The next two days were agony for Aphmau. She had been thrown into a tower room and locked inside, getting her meals when the door was opened a crack and a plate was slid inside. The room itself wasn’t that bad; the poster bed was comfy and the bathroom was pristine. Aphmau felt like an important prisoner.

 

It was the evening of the second day — the evening before the wedding — when the door opened and someone actually walked inside. Aphmau had been sitting at the desk, aimlessly drawing squiggly line after squiggly line, but stood up immediately, clutching her quill tightly.

 

The young woman standing in front of the door paused. She was very pretty — she had moon-pale skin and impossibly thick eyelashes that made her blue eyes look like that of a doll. Her black hair was curled in ringlets and her lips were the perfect shade of dahlia. She wore a lacy blue dress with a hooded cloak over the top, decorated with moons, stars, and characters of the major arcana. She held a heap of white fabric in her arms.

 

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” the woman said slowly. Her voice was silky and high, and when she moved over to the bed, her movements were long and graceful. Aphmau thought she looked like a porcelain doll.

 

“W-What do you want?” Aphmau said, setting the quill down. She recognized the woman from the main hall. She had been one of the Jurors who were standing at the dais. Though Aphmau had expected her to remain in her armor, like Jeffory did.

 

“It’s time for you to pick out your wedding dress,” the woman said, laying each dress out on the bed. There were three in all, and they were all gorgeous. Aphmau was surprised Zane would waste such beautiful — and probably expensive — dresses on her. He should’ve found a bride that would appreciate them.

 

Aphmau walked over, running her fingers over the first dress. It was made of silk, and must’ve been from some exotic region, because Aphmau had never seen the jewels embedded in the neckline and corset. But it looked too tight for Aphmau’s liking, so she moved on to the next one.

 

This one was huge and poofy, and swamped the whole bed. Pearls choked the neckline and sleeves, and it made Aphmau feel heavy just looking at it.

 

The last one was beautiful. It was poofy, but not obnoxious. The waist was small and the sweetheart neckline showed an honest amount of bust, but the tulle on the sleeves and skirt almost made up for it. It wasn’t as heavily adorned with pearls as the other ones.

 

“This one.” Aphmau whispered, rubbing the tulle between her fingers. The woman shifted. “Alright then. Shall we see if it fits?”

 

”S-Sure,” Aphmau said. She reached behind her to loosen her corset.

 

“Oh, let me,” the woman said silkily, walking over and working on the corset until it fell away from the thin white dress Aphmau wore. “We’ll try it on without the corset for now.”

 

Aphmau kept quiet as the woman slid the dress over her head, and she turned around to look in the floor length mirror she had near her bed. The dress fit perfectly and looked great. Aphmau touched the tulle lightly again, feeling lightheaded. The reality that she was getting married was beginning to set in.

 

“You seem nervous,” the woman murmured. “I can assure you Prince Zane will do everything in his power to make you feel at home here.”

 

“But this isn’t my home,” Aphmau said bitterly. “Phoenix Drop is my home.”

 

“And Phoenix Drop will burn if you don’t marry Zane,” the woman replied swiftly. Aphmau fleetingly remembered those dreams she had while in the forest, of Phoenix Drop burning.

 

“But why does he want me?” Aphmau asked in a small voice, looking over at the woman. She blinked and held Aphmau’s gaze, gathering up the other wedding dresses.

 

“You are very powerful, Lady Aphmau,” she said in a strange voice that suddenly didn’t sound like her normal one. This one was cold, and throaty. “Stronger than you know.”

 

The woman blinked and then her voice was back to normal. “I’ll take that dress, now. We don’t want it to get wrinkled.”

 

Aphmau shook off the menace that radiated from the woman as she slid off the dress. The woman took it without a word and swiftly left, closing the door behind her.

 

Aphmau sighed and sat down on her bed, her head in her hands. All she knew about tomorrow was that handmaidens would wake her up and help her get ready. Then Janus would come and escort her to the Hall of Angels, where the ceremony would take place. After that...Aphmau had no idea.

 

A commotion from outside startled her. It sounded like a large animal was rustling every bush underneath her tower. Standing, she walked over to her window, unlocked it, and peeked out.

 

The tower overlooked a small courtyard, with only a small fountain and a bench within the shrubbery. But now a new feature had been added — a man stood in the middle, his head tipped back and staring straight at Aphmau.

 

He was far away, and it was dark, but she could make out dark brown hair and a green scarf. When she opened the window, he froze, and then scampered away into the bushes.

 

Aphmau sat back on her haunches, puzzled. Who was that man? Why was he poking around in the courtyard, after dark? And most importantly, why did it look like he was waiting for her?

 

Aphmau decided to take this puzzle to bed. She extinguished all the candles in the room except for one, and climbed into her bed, which was soft despite her condition. Although she had been tired before, she couldn’t find sleep, no matter how hard she tried. Eventually she gave up and began pacing around her room, feeling her chest begin to tighten and tunnel vision close in. The reality was hitting. She would never see Levin or Malachi again. Or Garroth, or Laurance, or Dante or Nicole or Lucinda or Kawaii~Chan or Zoey. She sank to her knees. She would be stuck with the man that terrorized her nightmares for the rest of her life.

 

She had been trying to fight away the fear for the last few days. She attempted to keep it at bay, by thinking about Phoenix Drop. Levin and Malachi would be sound asleep, dreaming about cookies and sweets and toys. They were happy, and so Aphmau was happy. But now the thought came to her that they were sad — of course they would be sad. Their mother was across the region, without any friends or family, completely alone and afraid.

 

Aphmau let the fear tumble in.

 

Notes:

next chapter is the wedding and it’ll make up for how short this one was. also slick green ratboy cameo, how fun

Chapter 4: 4. Wedding Bells

Sure to Zane’s word, Aphmau was awoken hastily the next day after having a terrible night’s sleep. She had barely slept at all, and probably looked a mess. But the handmaidens sat her down at her vanity and somehow made her look like a goddess. Her skin was smooth, her lips were plump instead of dry and cracked, and her hair didn’t have a single knot and was swept up into a bun at the back of her head. It wasn’t long until the handmaidens tugged on her wedding dress, and then brought out a box.

 

“What’s this?” Aphmau asked tentatively. She was hesitant to take gifts from Zane’s allies.

 

“Your something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue,” one of the handmaidens said, opening the box. Inside was a horribly dated bracelet that must’ve been from years ago, a shiny pair of earrings, a small tiara, and a blue garter for her thigh.

 

“Oh,” Aphmau said softly. She met the handmaidens put them on her.

 

“Do you know what the borrowed thing is?” She asked a handmaiden after a while.

 

“The tiara was Lady Queen Zianna’s when she married King Garte,” the girl explained. “She told Zane she wanted you to have it.”

 

The handmaidens left after Aphmau was ready, and Aphmau wished the door would never open again. But of course it did, and Janus was there. He barely fit through the doorway.

 

“My lady,” he rumbled. “It’s time.”

 

Aphmau slowly got up from where she sat and followed him meekly through the halls, refusing to take his elbow. They got out to the front gates, where a carriage awaited them. Janus helped Aphmau into the carriage and then mounted his own horse.

 

So much for escorting, Aphmau thought bitterly as the doors closed.

 

The carriage took them around the back of the Hall of Angels, to the bride’s room. Aphmau waited for another half hour before someone else came to fetch her.

 

She was relieved to see a familiar, friendly face. Jeffory’s eyes widened as Aphmau stood and brushed the wrinkles out of her dress.

 

“You look fantastic, my lady,” he said, smiling a little bit. Aphmau smiled back.

 

“I’m to give you away, since I’m the only person you really know here,” Jeffory explained as they walked. “And I convinced Zane to let Abby be your flower girl.”

 

Aphmau gasped in delight and smiled. Finally, she would get to see Jeffory’s daughter.

 

“Your bridesmaids are several noble ladies at court,” Jeffory explained. “Katelyn volunteered to be your maid of honor.”

 

Aphmau breathed a sigh of relief. She admired Katelyn — having the Juror by her side would be nice.

 

“Other than that, you’re on your own,” Jeffory finished. “After I give you away I have to go sit with the rest of the Jury at the base of the altar.”

 

Aphmau nodded. She was beginning to shake. They stood in the foyer, just waiting for their queue.

 

Jeffory cupped his hands around Aphmau’s face. “Stand tall,” he commanded. “Chin up. Shoulders back. Never let them see you weak.”

 

Aphmau blinked away tears as she stared up into his kelly green eyes. “W-What?”

 

“Weakness is the last thing O’khasis needs,” Jeffory murmured. “You need to appear strong. If you want to get back at Zane, you need the people on your side. This is your first impression. You already look like a goddess — now you just have to act like one.”

 

Aphmau nodded shakily, and the organ began. There was a creak of pews as the assembly stood. Aphmau clutched her bouquet of anemones and black-eyed-Susan’s tight and Jeffory’s arm even tighter. She could feel him trembling, too, through his armor.

 

The doors opened and they walked.

 

There were so many more people that Aphmau had anticipated. Most were nobles, but near the back were common folk, straight from the streets. These were the people she needed to impress. Taking Jeffory’s advice, she held her chin high and rolled her shoulders back.

 

The aisle was scattered with rose petals, and Aphmau attempted to step on as many as she could. The altar soon came into view. Zane stood in full prince regalia, complete with a tiara that almost matched Aphmau’s snug in his hair. A wrinkly old priest stood next to him. Zane still hadn’t removed his mask.

 

Jeffory stopped abruptly at the altar, forcing Aphmau to stop too. He turned towards her as Zane came down the steps. Jeffory lightly kissed her hand, before giving her one last unreadable gaze before drifting off to stand with the rest of the Jury.

 

Aphmau took Zane’s elbow and they walked up the steps of the altar together. Katelyn stood nearby, still in her Jury armor. The only thing that was different was that she had managed to pull her hair into a bun similar to Aphmau’s. Aphmau handed Katelyn the bouquet, and the blue-haired Juror gave her a subtle nod of encouragement.

 

“Marriage,” the old priest began. “Marriage is was brings us together today.   That blessed arrangement, that dream within a dream, and love, true love, will follow you forever and ever.”

 

Aphmau cringed inside. She could even sense Zane tense beside her.

 

The priest nodded to Zane, and he turned towards her.

 

“I, the High Priest of O’khasis, first in line to the throne of O’khasis, protector of the realm, Prince Zane Ro’meave take thee, Lady Aphmau of Phoenix Drop, to be my wedded wife.” His blue eye glittered with smugness. “To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, and to cherish, until death do us part.”

 

Aphmau tried to ignore how his eye glittered even more when he said “richer.”

 

The whole hall was silent. Aphmau realized that it was her turn to speak. She drew in a long breath.

 

“I, Lady Aphmau of the village of Phoenix Drop, take thee, Prince Zane Ro’meave, to be my wedded husband.”

 

Aphmau continued with the vows, and enjoyed when Zane got angry when she didn’t address him in his full title. But that happy moment was swept away when the priest spoke again.

 

“Then, with the power of Irene invested in me, I pronounce you-“

 

“STOP!”

 

Aphmau whipped around, her earrings leaving red marks on her cheeks. Four cloaked figures stood at the end of the main aisle. With a flourish, the cloaks were ripped off.

 

Aphmau’s jaw dropped.

 

Garroth stood, in all his blonde and blue glory. His sword was no longer dull and grubby, but a magnificent gleaming diamond one. Laurance stood beside him, but now he was in his demon-like Shadow Knight form, his veins turned to lava and his eyes a ruby red. He was twitching uncontrollably. Dante was there too, this time with armor and red katanas. And, to Aphmau’s surprise, the masked man from the garden last night, complete with his scarf and daggers she had seen at his hip.

 

Garroth pointed his sword down the aisle at Zane. “Release her,” he roared, “and we’ll let you live.”

 

A gasp floated through the crowd. Zane’s grip on Aphmau’s arm became like iron.

 

“Oh, well look at this,” Zane taunted. “My big brother Garroth has come back from the dead for my wedding day.”

 

An even larger gasp went through the crowd. Out of the corner of her eye, Aphmau saw Jeffory bolt upright, like someone had just shocked him.

 

Garroth glanced around, obviously uncertain now. With Zane’s addition to the conversation, everyone in the hall was against Garroth.

 

“I said let her go,” Garroth continued, “and we’ll let you live.”

 

Zane let out a cold laugh, but his grip on Aphmau’s arm tightened, and she winced. She could hear Laurance’s heavy, beast-like panting and growling from the other side of the hall.

 

“You and what army, big brother?” Zane taunted. “You can never have her. No matter how much you love her. We’re already married. Good luck trying to find-“

 

He was cut off as Laurance roared in anger, hurling his sword at Zane. Zane ducked a millisecond too early, and the sword embedded itself in the wall behind him.

 

The hall erupted into chaos. People were trying to leave from every door, making finding Garroth, Laurance, Dante, and the masked man impossible. But suddenly they were at the foot of the altar, ready to kill.

 

“Pronounce us,” Zane hissed at the priest.

 

“U-Uh—maybe somewhere safer, your grace-“ the priest tried.

 

“Pronounce us!” Zane roared.

 

“I-I now pronounce you man and wife,” the priest hiccuped. Zane grabbed Aphmau’s waist, yanked down his mask and pressed his lips to hers for a moment before pulling away and setting his mask back in place.

 

An animal-like sound came from Laurance as he descended on Zane. Zane unsheathed a sword he had underneath his cloak and met Laurance’s blade evenly. Zane heaved Laurance away from himself, and darted away, towards a door behind the altar.

 

“Ein!” He shouted. The werewolf whipped around from where he was helping Ivan fend off Dante. The raven-haired young man was one of the more sympathetic Jurors towards Aphmau, and he had delivered a few of her meals to her tower. He was nice, from what she had seen.

 

“Take Aphmau back to her room!” Zane shouted, before darting into the door and disappearing.

 

Ein’s eyes fell on Aphmau, and she felt sick. She turned and hightailed it down the stairs, running as fast as she could in her dress. “Garroth!” She wailed. She didn’t care if the people thought she wasn’t queenly — she was scared out of her wits.

 

Garroth heard her cry and whipped around, crystal eyes wide. He was just a few pews down, and when he tried to run to her, Janus barreled into him and they rolled together on the ground, kicking and hacking at each other with swords.

 

Janus raised his arm to strike at Garroth, but Garroth rolled away at the last moment, causing Janus’s sword to sink into the marble floor. The only thing between Garroth and Aphmau was Lillian, who saw Garroth over her shoulder and slowly turned, drawing her silver scythe with adagietto. Aphmau’s heart leaped into her throat as Lillian and Garroth locked blades, the weapons trembling with friction. But eventually Lillian shoved Garroth away, but he was back onto her in a second, quickly twisting her scythe out of her hands. Lillian stumbled back, startled that she was overpowered so easily. Garroth let out a cry as he raised his sword — but halted immediately as Jeffory flung himself between them, arms wide.

 

Jeffory and Garroth stared at each other got an agonizingly long time. Aphmau watched in wonder as Garroth’s shoulders seemed to loose their tension, slowly falling back into a restful position. He lowered his sword.

 

It seemed like Garroth might surrender before Ivan barreled in and struck Jeffory on the side of the head with the butt of his sword. Jeffory immediately collapsed, unconscious.

 

“What the hell?!” Lillian shouted. “Ivan!”

 

“I thought he was the other guy!” Ivan yelled back, pointing angrily at the masked man who was expertly fighting Katelyn.

 

Lillian groaned and rolled her eyes, sticking out her hand. Her scythe was summoned back and she and Garroth resumed fighting.

 

Since there was no way Garroth was going to help her at this point, Aphmau kept looking for other ways of escape. Ein kept getting closer, but was always stopped by either Dante or Laurance. Aphmau backed up to the corner of the altar, searching for a free spot she could dart out of.

 

She watched as Dante expertly shoved Ein off of himself and he bounded up the steps, using his small frame as an advantage to duck between Laurance and Ivy. He made it to the altar and bolted towards Aphmau. Aphmau’s pulse sped up twice as much as she ran towards him.

 

They were mere feet away when Dante shrieked and fell. Stumbling to his knees, Aphmau saw a bloody gash striped across his back. Ivan stood behind him, grinning at the sight of Dante in pain.

 

The masked man from before shoved Ivan to the ground and hauled Dante to his feet, casting Aphmau a regretful look as he dragged Dante away from the battle. Aphmau’s heart sank as she realized it was only Laurance and Garroth standing now.

 

Aphmau saw Laurance fiercely fighting Katelyn. As she watched, she saw Laurance shove her down the steps of the altar, causing her to stumble and fall, landing on her back. She attempted to lunge back upright, but Laurance brandished his sword and stabbed it down. Katelyn tried to dodge it but it sank into her ribcage, and she screamed, clutching the wound as Laurance retracted the sword.

 

Aphmau wanted to throw up. That’s not the Laurance I know.

 

But at Katelyn’s cry, Lillian and Ivy descended on Laurance, hacking at him with their scythes and not giving him any quarter. The two Jurors combined matched Laurance a little too well.

 

Aphmau shrieked as arms wrapped around her waist and she was picked up. She kicked and screamed against Ein, but he kept a firm grip on her, carrying her out of the hall. Aphmau got a glimpse of Garroth’s defeated and fearful face before the door slammed and she was back to being a prisoner of O’khasis — and a married one at that.

Notes:

garroth said fuck weddings didn’t he

the next chapter is half wholesome and half stressful so be prepared :)

Chapter 5: 5. The Sons She Lost

Summary:

Aphmau meets an unusual ally as she prepares for her wedding reception.

Aphmau languished in her room for the next half of the day, anxiously wondering if Garroth and Laurance had escaped the Hall of Angels. Her window was now bolted shut. She tore the pins out of her hair and collapsed onto her bed, shaking and sobbing. Images of Garroth and Laurance’s horribly mutilated bodies kept swimming in and out of her cloudy vision.

 

The hours dragged on in agony. Aphmau swam in and out of an unsteady sleep, exhausted from staying up late the night before and watching the fight in the Hall of Angels. She felt sick to her stomach, but whenever she tried to throw up, it was just painful dry heaving. Her throat was dry and her lips were cracked, and when she looked in the mirror, she saw an ugly, disheveled beast staring back at her.

 

She was no longer the goddess she had been that morning. She was sickly pale, and her eyes and lips were swollen and red. The ebony the handmaidens had put on her lashes was smeared under her lash line and down her cheeks from crying. Her hair was tangled from the bun and pins hung loose in the knots. Her dress was wrinkled and the hem was ripped from being dragged out of the Hall by Ein.

 

Aphmau had no idea why anyone would willingly marry her. She was a girl with no past and hardly any status, given the state Phoenix Drop was in. Being lord of it was like being the lord of a dollhouse — interesting things only happened if she herself caused it.

 

Aphmau slumped down next to the bed, dazed. Maybe it’s better if I’m away from Phoenix Drop, she thought. It’ll be more peaceful if I’m gone. Garroth was doing just fine until I came along.

 

Aphmau slipped into an unsteady doze, waking up every time she moved or heard a sound from outside. But the last time she woke up, it was the creak of the door being pushed open.

 

She stood and spun around, terrified that it would be Janus or Ein coming in to drag her to Zane for punishment. But the woman in the doorway wasn’t a Juror.

 

The woman had long, ebony hair and pale skin. She had smile wrinkles near her mouth and eyes, but it didn’t make her look old. She didn’t look a day over thirty. She seemed to be all points, her birdlike bones jutting out from under her skin. She wore a lot of jewelry, and the O’khasian royal tiara in her hair.

 

Surprisingly, the woman smiled warmly at Aphmau. “Hello, dear,” she said gently, stepping forward a little. “You haven’t met me yet. I’m your mother-in-law, Zianna.”

 

Aphmau felt wary but slightly at ease; the only time she had heard this gentle tone of voice was from Jeffory. She felt her shoulders go down slightly. “My mother-in-law?” She asked, her voice cracking.

 

Zianna nodded and walked closer. “Yes. I’m Zane’s mother. And I saw what happened at the ceremony today.”

 

Aphmau hung her head. Just hearing Zane’s name aloud made her cringe in fear. Zianna’s eyes softened, and she walked over to sit down on the bed next to her and gently touch her arm.

 

“I’m sorry that you have to be married to my son,” Zianna said quietly. “If things were different, you would be engaged to my other son.”

 

“Garroth.” Aphmau said weakly, the name sticky and thorny on her tongue. Zianna’s blue-green eyes widened. “You know him?” Zianna asked, picking up Aphmau’s hands. “He’s alive?”

 

Aphmau blinked tears away. “Yes.” She said. “But he might be dead now. He was one of the knights who tried to rescue me in the Hall of Angels.”

 

Zianna visibly paled. “That was...that was Garroth?” She said softly. “I only got a brief look before I was ushered away, and I thought I was seeing the ghost of my son.”

 

“But I don’t know if the Jury killed him,” Aphmau said, leaning against Zianna.

 

Zianna was silent for a few minutes. “I don’t think they did,” she said quietly. “When my youngest son died, I felt it. It felt like my heart was going to explode. I couldn’t breathe. I was sick for days, and only after that I was given the news of his death. I never felt that about Garroth, which made it harder for me to accept his death.”

 

“You had another son?” Aphmau questioned. “And...why did you think Garroth was dead?”

 

Zianna sighed a long, tragic sigh. “Yes. Vylad. Oh, he was perfect. Don’t ever tell Zane this, but he was my favorite. He was quick and clever, but never one to speak up. Zane despised him. Garroth adored him almost as much as I did. He disappeared soon after Garroth faked his death. I was frantic. But no one else cares to look for him.” A shadow was cast over Zianna’s eyes. “Then I felt it. That mother’s pain, the grim feeling of knowing your baby was dead.”

 

Aphmau felt tears tickle her eyes, and she brushed them away. She pictured a small boy, with blonde hair like Garroth’s and seaglass eyes like Zianna’s. She felt grief plague her heart without even knowing the boy.

 

Zianna composed herself. “I came to get you ready for the wedding reception,” she continued.

 

Aphmau’s mouth fell open. “He’s still having a reception?” She exclaimed. “Even after what happened in the Hall of Angels?”

 

“I’ve done all I can do, sweetling,” Zianna said, cupping her face sadly. “I’ve tried to get him to push it back, to cancel it, even. But he’s adamant to show his court that the disruption in the Hall of Angels didn’t shake him.”

 

Zianna rubbed her cheek gently, compassion filling her eyes. “You want to win the public over,” she said quietly. “You must show that the attack didn’t faze you. The people want a strong Lady Princess. You must give it to them. Trust me, I know that there is already unrest in the commonfolk. You could be their saving grace.”

 

Aphmau blinked through the tears. “Me?”

 

Zianna nodded. “Yes. Aphmau, they see you as a shining beacon of hope. You will soon be the closest person to their tormenter. They think you can fix this.”

 

“But I can’t,” Aphmau mourned, burying her head in her hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

 

“Just be yourself,” Zianna murmured. “That’s all you need.”

 

Zianna softly began to comb out Aphmau’s hair with gentle fingers, humming some sort of childhood lullaby. Aphmau let herself be taken into the woman’s care; Zianna cleaned up her makup and reapplied it, redid her hair even more beautiful than before, and even managed to pin up the ragged hem of the dress. After getting cleaned up, Aphmau looked even better than before. She reached for the tiara she had deposits on the floor, but Zianna grabbed her hand and pressed another crown into her palm.

 

It was similar to the one she was given before, but this one wasn’t a tiara. It was a full crown; inlaid with all sorts of blue gemstones and lined with pearls. It felt heavy in Aphmau’s hands as she stood. Zianna helped her gently place it on her head, and fastened it with pins.

 

“That was Garroth’s crown,” Zianna said softly. “The one he would’ve worn for his wedding and coronation.” The woman’s bony fingers drifted down Aphmau’s arms. “A crown fit for a king.”

 

Aphmau thought that she would begin to cry from just the mention of Garroth’s name. But, surprisingly, she didn’t. In fact, the mention of Garroth forced her to stand up taller and lift her chin.

 

I am a Lady Princess of O’khasis, she thought determinedly. I am Lady Aphmau of Phoenix Drop. Wife of High Priest Zane Ro’meave. And I will overthrow him.

 

She turned to look straight into Zianna’s eyes.

 

Zianna was silently weeping, tears making her face glossy.

 

“The sons I lost,” she whispered. “They live in you.”

 

Chapter 6: 6. The Diamond Reception

Summary:

Aphmau must face the trials of her wedding reception

Zianna escorted Aphmau down to the Diamond Ballroom, where the reception was held. It was an impressive room, with sweet cherubs and clouds painted in detail on the ceiling. Tables of small desserts were sprinkled around the sides. What seemed like a full orchestra was playing soft music in the corner. Most of the nobles who had attended the wedding were around the floor, talking and visiting with one another. Zane stood in some new regal robes near the back, politely making small talk with a few of the courtiers. The Jury, surprisingly wasn’t surrounding him; only Janus hovered at his shoulder. As Aphmau entered from the grand staircase, she spied Ivy and Lillian talking quietly to themselves, Ivan at the buffet table, and Jeffory sitting alone with a little girl in his lap.

 

She realized that every Jury member was there, despite nearly all of them being wounded in the fight in the Hall of Angels. Katelyn was limping badly, her armor bulked up with bandages underneath. Lillian had a nasty scar that slashed across her cheek. Jeffory looked dazed and unresponsive as the girl in his lap — who Aphmau assumed to be his daughter, Abby — played with the floral centerpiece of the table and ripped off some petals.

 

The whole room turned as Aphmau entered, Zianna trailing a little behind. Aphmau still held her head high, not weighed down at all by Garroth’s crown. She made her way down onto the floor, stopping before the mass of people began.

 

“What should I do?” Aphmau whispered to Zianna.

 

“Make small talk until the dancing begins,” Zianna murmured back. “I must go to my husband. Stand tall. They look to you.” With a final squeeze of her hand, Zianna vanished into the crowd.

 

Immediately a young man in a brown velvet coat appeared in front of her. “Congratulations on your marriage, Lady Princess,” he said quickly, sweeping up her hand and kissing it.

 

Aphmau smiled, a little nervous. “Thank you, sir.”

 

The man was replaced by a middle-aged couple both dressed in blue, wishing her the same thing. More and more people passed, some dropping names that Aphmau forgot them all in a matter of moments.

 

Finally when it seemed like the crowd had dwindled, Aphmau found herself standing on the edge of what seemed like a dance floor. It was a clear circle of floorspace, and Zane stood on the other side, staring at her. When he caught her eye, he clapped twice, and the low music that had been playing in the background stopped.

 

“I believe it is time for the first dance,” he called.

 

The crowd murmured excitedly and moved back so that the dance floor had more space. Aphmau found herself alone in the circle of people.

 

What happens at the first dance of a wedding? She thought, a bit dazed.

 

Wedding protocol flashed through her mind, and she remembered.

 

Oh no. My father. I don’t have a father to dance with.

 

She stopped herself from looking around uncertainly and trained her eyes on Zane. His one visible eye was alight with sadistic glee.

 

“Oh, my, how immoral of me,” he chided, his eye widening in mock sympathy. “I forgot. You have no father to dance with.”

 

A low, grim murmur floated through the crowd. Aphmau pulled herself up straighter, looking Zane square in the eye. He didn’t scare her.

 

“I suppose you can preform the dance by yourself-“ Zane began to say, but then Jeffory pushed himself through the crowd and stood next to Aphmau.

 

“I will step in for the dance,” he announced wearily.

 

Aphmau’s fists tightened at her hips. Oh, Jeffory, no, she thought.

 

Zane narrowed his eye. “Sir Jeffory, I already said Lady Princess Aphmau can preform the dance by herself-“ he said, but Jeffory grabbed Aphmau’s hand and swung her around, placing one hand on her hip and keeping a firm hold of her right hand. A little stunned, Aphmau set her left hand on his shoulder.

 

Jeffory gave Zane a knowing glare. Ruffled, Zane backed away and motioned for the orchestra to begin.

 

Aphmau was ramrod straight and frightened as the music began. It was a light piano melody, and Jeffory bowed to her, lifting her hand up above his head. Aphmau quickly dropped into a curtsy and then stood back up, putting her hand back on his shoulder. Jeffory firmly planted his hand on her hip and guided her in a small spin, keeping his feet in time with the music. Aphmau felt large and clumsy next to his grace.

 

“Why did you volunteer to step in?” She whispered as they glided along. She was slowly finding the rhythm of her feet. Jeffory smiled, his freckled cheeks getting bunched up so that they made his eyes slits. “It was the right thing to do,” he said, tilting his head at her. He still had a slightly tired and dazed look; Aphmau assumed it was from behind knocked out by Ivan.

 

“But you didn’t have to,” she said slowly. Jeffory let go of her waist and spun her out into the middle of the circle, still holding her hand. Aphmau squeaked a little as he pulled her back in, so close that they were chest-to-chest.

 

“Zane was going to humiliate you,” he replied. “It was the least I could do.”

 

Aphmau found herself smiling a little as he twirled them around the dance floor. At times the music picked up and became more lively; he moved faster then, sometimes moving his hands to spin her around or yank her into dips that made her stomach drop and made her giggle.

 

The notes of the piano began to escalate, and to Aphmau’s surprise, Jeffory hoisted her up in his arms and lifted her, bunching her skirt up in his arms so that she was hovering over him and practically sitting on his arms. Aphmau squeaked and grabbed onto his shoulders, flushing and smiling at the same time. Jeffory stared right back at her, happier than she had ever seen him. The notes quietly faded into the last bar, and Jeffory lightly set her down, but her arms remained around his neck. They were face-to-face now. She could feel Jeffory’s warm breath on her cheek. He smelled like tea and sugar.

 

As the last notes played, Jeffory took a step back and took her hand again. He bowed, and this time Aphmau curtsied in unison with him. When she came back up from the curtsy, he was flushed and smiling sheepishly.

 

The crowd began to applaud politely, but Aphmau could feel the tension in the air, taut as a bowstring. The people had seen how close she and Jeffory had gotten. There was going to be talk. Aphmau quickly released her hand from his grasp and nodded to him. He seemed to notice her concern and quickly disappeared back into the crowd.

 

Aphmau was relishing in the last few moments of bliss she had had in Jeffory’s arms when suddenly she was swept up into someone else’s arms, these ones much more cold and bony and their hands squeezed her fingers like iron. She bit her lip to keep from yelling as the piano began a severe bar, and she was spun around to be face-to-face with Zane.

 

His blue eye was hardened. “That was a clever trick you tried,” he murmured as he spun her once and gave her a customary bow.

 

“What kind of trick?” She growled back as she curtsied. They never once broke eye contact.

 

“You made it look like Jeffory was your husband, and not me,” he growled as they stood up straight. He put his hand on her waist, but it wasn’t comfortable like Jeffory’s was. It seemed like a clamp to her. She hesitantly put her hand on his shoulder.

 

Zane yanked her into the first few steps of the waltz. He was graceful, but not as addictingly graceful as Jeffory had been. Aphmau felt uncomfortable and just wanted to pry herself out of his grasp.

 

As they danced, he spoke. “Your comrades were very adamant on getting you back this morning,” he mused.

 

Aphmau met his gaze. “Don’t call them that. Use Garroth’s name.”

 

Zane finally seemed to notice the crown Aphmau was wearing. She could’ve sworn that he flushed underneath his mask.

 

“Who gave you that crown?” He hissed, dropping her into a sharp dip. Aphmau didn’t even flinch. She refused to loose eye contact with him.

 

“Your mother.” Aphmau replied. “She told me to wear it instead of my wedding tiara.”

 

Zane looked enraged, but he couldn’t stop the dance to deal with his mother. Not now, at least. He yanked her back up and continued the waltz.

 

“You think you’re so sly, Lady Aphmau,” Zane muttered. “Our wedding day might have gone awry, but I’ll make sure our wedding night is perfect.”

 

Now it was Aphmau’s turn to become frazzled and stunned. She missed a step and nearly tripped, but kept her composure.

 

Zane saw her scare and smirked. “Oh, have you forgotten about that?” He chided. “The city needs an heir, you know. More than ever, with these unfortunate circumstances.”

 

Aphmau felt paralyzed as Zane pulled her through the rest of the dance. His movements were much more sharp and jerky that Jeffory’s flowing, almost ballerina-like dancing. He yanked her into sharp dips and spun her until she was nauseous. Finally the dance was over, and when he bowed, she didn’t curtsy back. She felt like if she leaned over, she would certainly faint.

 

She attempted to pull herself together as she staggered off the dance floor, guided by Zane. They sat in a pair of thrones set up at the end of the room, side by side. Zane kept his hand on top of Aphmau’s as well-wishers came up the steps to congratulate them and deposit wedding gifts on the table nearby.

 

Aphmau frantically searched the crowd for a friendly face. But Jeffory was sitting with Abby again, once more looking distant. Zianna was talking softly to her husband. Katelyn was nowhere to be found.

 

The hours dragged on, and the light faded from the windows, and the only light where the crystal chandeliers and the candles at the tables. The rest of the guests danced, but Zane never made Aphmau get up and go onto the dance floor again.

 

Finally, after it seemed like the torture would never end, Lillian appeared at her elbow.

 

“My lady, please follow me,” she said politely in the wispy voice. Aphmau, still dazed, got up and followed Lillian out a back door of the ballroom. She heard Zane announce something, and cheers rang out from the ballroom.

 

Lillian kept a firm hand on her elbow, pulling her along. She didn’t take her back to her chambers. Instead, she led her to a wing of the palace Aphmau had assumed was for the royal family.

 

Aphmau’s heart sank into her stomach. She wanted to turn around and run, but she was sure Lillian would catch her and kill her. She had seen what her scythe could do.

 

Aphmau was led into a dimly-lit room with a four-poster bed piled up with furry blankets. It looked temptingly warm. With the disappearance of the sun, the ballroom had gotten chilly, and her dress didn’t have sleeves.

 

Lillian made her stop in the middle of the room and gently pried off her dress, leaving Aphmau in only her corset and small slip she slept in. Lillian took off the corset and handed Aphmau a silky robe. Aphmau gratefully shrugged it on.

 

Lillian went for the door, and Aphmau turned. “What do I do?” She asked, the fear leaking through into her voice.

 

Lillian paused, and then turned. Her blue eyes were cold.

 

“Wait for your husband,” she said simply, and then left. There was a click as she locked the door.

 

Aphmau wanted to collapse onto the bed and cry. She wanted to throw herself out the open window into the cold, open air. All she wanted was to leave.

 

But even though every other part of her body screamed at her to just end it, she reached up into her hair with shaking fingers and pried out the pins. Her hair fell back down, bouncing around her shoulders in ringlets. She gently picked up the crown, Garroth’s crown, wrapped it in a sheet, and hid it behind the full-length mirror in the corner. She ran her fingers through her hair. Her thoughts became muted. All she could hear was a ringing in her ears. It was a terrifying, uncomfortable calm as her chest contorted.

 

The creak of the door announced Zane’s arrival. Aphmau turned slowly, meeting his greedy, blue eyes.

 

Aphmau held her chin high like Jeffory and Zianna had commanded her. She stared Zane straight in the eye

 

I am not scared of you.

Chapter 7: 7. Golden Flowers

Summary:

Jeffory finally reveals his secret to Aphmau

Aphmau had slowly gotten used to routine at the palace. The initial fear of living among her enemies had worn off. She still had nightmares about Phoenix Drop and the wedding, but they were slowly getting better.

 

She had spent most of her time with Jeffory, Katelyn, or the Lady Queen. Jeffory had finally introduced Aphmau to Abby, his sweet, fiery little girl who reminded Aphmau of Katelyn. She lived in the nursery with the rest of the palace children. She often found Jeffory down there in the nursery, softly singing lullabies to Abby as she drifted off to sleep.

 

Katelyn escorted Aphmau everywhere, which she appreciated. She also taught Aphmau a good deal about the Jury. She told her a bit about their history, about their purpose, and about their powers. She told Aphmau about the terrifying form the Jury took when they were enraged or summoned it.

 

Zianna was the most calming figure she spent time with. They often took long walks around the garden, talking about Phoenix Drop, Garroth, and Vylad. They had private lunches, and sometimes Zianna took her out into the city to get some fresh air.

 

One thing relieving about dinners with the Jury was that Aphmau was seated at the opposite end of the table than Zane. He couldn’t touch her if she was all the way down the row from him. However, Ivan and Ivy were seated at her left and right. Ivan talked with his mouth full even when no one was listening, and Ivy took every opportunity to lightly jostle Aphmau’s elbow when she lifted her arm to eat.

 

It wasn’t terrible. She had enough to eat at all times, and she wasn’t made a fool of herself like she had been at the wedding reception. Aphmau had only been to two Jury dinners in the week and a half since the wedding, and mostly no one talked except for Ivan.

 

But tonight proved to be different. As the second course was being brought out, Janus — who sat to Zane’s right and across from Jeffory — slid his napkin across his lips and took a swig of his wine. Janus getting drunk at Jury dinners was nothing new — Katelyn told her to expect it. Normally he would just shamble off to his room early.

 

Not tonight. Janus slammed down his wine goblet and looked up at Jeffory, who was picking at his potatoes half-heartedly.

 

“Gotta say, Jeffory,” Janus slurred. “You dance like a fucking princess.”

 

The whole table went silent. Even Ivan stopped rambling. Ivy, next to Aphmau, froze, her crystal colored eyes flicking back and forth between Janus and Jeffory.

 

Jeffory coughed, setting down his fork. “Pardon?” He asked tentatively.

 

“I said,” Janus growled, as if annoyed to be repeating himself. “You dance like a fucking princess.”

 

Jeffory’s face flushed a little, and he averted his eyes down into his lap. Katelyn, seated next to Jeffory, glared at Janus.

 

“Janus, keep your swearing away from the Lady Princess,” Katelyn growled.

 

“Are you dense?” Janus yelled over Katelyn, his whole face red as he shouted at Jeffory. “At the fucking wedding! It should’ve been you in the fancy white dress! Six Warriors, you still look like a girl.”

 

Jeffory went ramrod straight and stared at Janus, not moving. He was like a deer caught in headlights. Eyes wide, lips parted just the tiniest bit. Aphmau saw his eyes begin to sparkle; a telltale sign that he was about to cry.

 

Katelyn looked ready to burst. “Janus-“ She snarled.

 

“What do you even want me to call you?” Janus rambled, leaning over the table. “Why don’t we go back to calling you Victoria?”

 

Katelyn’s chair screeched as she flew to her feet and wrapped her fist around Janus’s throat. “Take that back!” She roared. Aphmau’s eyes flew wide — she had never seen Katelyn so angry. “Take that back, you bitch!”

 

Janus tore Katelyn’s arm off of him and stood up, jabbing a finger at Jeffory, who hadn’t moved. “Go back to wearing dresses, you little whore,” He slurred, stumbling slightly. “You looked better in them.”

 

The whole table was dead quiet. Not even Zane looked bothered by the scuffle. Katelyn was seething, eyes glowing with the promise of her Jury form to come bursting through. When the tension was too much to handle, Jeffory sobbed and his chair screeched as he fled the dining room, his cape billowing out behind him.

 

Katelyn lunged across the table and tackled Janus to the ground, screaming curses as she repeatedly pummeled his face, tearing some of his scars open to bleed all over his skin. Finally the Jurors moved; Lillian dragged Katelyn off of Janus while Ivan and Ivy crouched next to him, cooing like children who had found a wounded animal. Katelyn kicked and screamed against Lillian, swearing to kill Janus in several horrible ways.

 

While the rest of the Jury and Zane were distracted, Aphmau leapt to her feet and rushed out of the hall after Jeffory. She searched most of the places she thought he would be — the laundry room, the kitchens, and even poked her head into the nursery — but she found him nowhere. Finally as she was wandering one of the bottom floors, she heard the sobbing and the sound of something crashing to the floor.

 

Oh, Irene, please don’t let him hurt himself, Aphmau thought, her heart seizing. She bolted to the door; it must’ve been a storeroom at some point. She opened the door slowly, so not to alarm him.

 

Jeffory was curled up on the corner of the room on top of some old burlap sacks, face in his arms as he sobbed. Discarded pieces of his armor littered the floor, as if he had forcefully pried it off of his body.

 

“Jeffory?” Aphmau said softly, crouching in the doorway. Jeffory peeked over his arms at her; his eyes were puffy and red.

 

“My lady, please leave,” he choked out, staring at his feet.

 

Aphmau shifted into a more comfortable position. “Jeffory...” she said softly. “Are you alright?”

 

To her surprise, he shook his head. “No.” He sobbed, his voice thick. “Nothing’s been alright. Ever. Not since the guard academy, nothing has been fine.”

 

Aphmau tilted her head to the side. She wasn’t quite sure how to ask him what had happened. “Jeffory, I’d like you to tell me what’s wrong,” she murmured, reaching across the discarded armor bits to place her hand on his arm. “Then maybe I can help you.”

 

Jeffory sniffled. “My lady, you can’t help me,” he said, his eyes full of grief and guilt and regret. “Not unless you can change my mother’s decision to have a baby girl.”

 

Aphmau’s eyes fell and she saw the bandages wrapping his chest. They were so tight she saw the red, irritated skin around the sides. But most importantly she saw that it was squeezed so tight that it was clearly trying to hide the clear curve to his chest.

 

Jeffory saw her look. He had seen her realize it; the recognition was clear in her eyes. He broke down.

 

“My mother left me in an orphanage when I was five,” he sobbed, shaking violently. “I hated it there. The boys would constantly mess with us and stick their hands up our skirts. They called me a wench because I was a girl. And I thought that was what I was going to be — that’s what orphan girls become. I saw it all the time there; it was going to happen to all of us.

 

“But I was determined not to end up like that.” Fat tears slid down his cheeks for every word. “I applied for the guard academy, and I was accepted. But barely; I was frail and sickly and not appropriate for a guard at all. The same kind of discrimination was there too — the other cadets mocked me for being a girl and that I would end up on the streets selling myself. Katelyn and Garroth were the only ones willing to stand up for me. In fact, one night we went out and got very horribly drunk. That’s where the trouble started.

 

“We must’ve had way too many drinks, because the next day I woke up in a stranger’s bed with no recollection of ever getting there. I went back to the guard academy and almost believed it was a dream. Until, well...I started getting sick.”

 

Aphmau’s mouth opened slightly as the puzzle pieces went together. “You had Abby,” she realized, and then immediately slapped a hand over her mouth. “I mean—she had Abby.”

 

Jeffory nodded, wiping snot from his nose. “Yes. Everyone at the guard academy was so ashamed of me. They thought I was — well, they thought I was exactly what I was trying to avoid. I always felt so uncomfortable in my body. And after I had Abby it just all came crashing down.”

 

Aphmau had moved closer, and Jeffory let her hold onto his arm as he continued.

 

“I cut my hair and started binding after a few months.” Jeffory continued. “Katelyn and Garroth were so supportive. I think they were the reason I didn’t give Abby up. Katelyn offered to let her family watch Abby whenever we went on trips and missions. I wouldn’t have survived without them.”

 

Aphmau recalled the look on Jeffory’s face when Garroth revealed himself in the Hall of Angels. She has just thought it was the shock of an objection. But now she realized it had been terror and astonishment in his eyes. She hadn’t realized he and Garroth went so far back.

 

A faint blush dusted Jeffory’s cheeks. “Garroth was always the best with helping with Abby,” he said slowly. “Katelyn didn’t really like kids that much, so it was really just Garroth and I most of the time. He was gentle with her, and loved her.” The blush became more vibrant. “I think I loved him too.”

 

Aphmau felt a thousand thorns pierce her heart. She felt so bad for Jeffory, who had had everything stripped away from him except for his daughter. She wished she could reach out and brush the tears off of his face, but he might get scared again.

 

“But then he left, and when we graduated the academy, Katelyn and I were put on the list for the possible Jurors.” Jeffory wiped snot from his nose with the back of his hand. “But after we graduated, I had nothing left besides Abby. I had lived in an orphanage my whole life, and then the academy. Abby and I were on the streets, just trying to stay alive. I was doing three jobs a day while I kept Abby hidden away all day under a wagon in an alley. I was so terrified of leaving her every day. I was convinced someone would find her and take her away.”

 

Jeffory finally raised his eyes to meet Aphmau’s. “But then one day the O’khasian guards found me. They took me to the palace and Zane told me that the Jury was in need of new Jurors, and that I was at the top of the list. He asked me if I wanted to accept. I wanted to say no. I didn’t want to be serving the royal family for the rest of my life. Garroth had told me how evil his brother and father were. I didn’t want to be around people that reminded me of Garroth.” He sighed. “But then Abby told me she couldn’t wait to see me be a knight, like in the princess stories I would tell her. I couldn’t say no. It was the only way for us to survive.” His eyes shone as more tears bubbled to the surface. “And then I got this job. This family. I found Katelyn again. And even though everything here reminds me of Garroth-“ his breath hitched, but then he kept going “-I pull through. But it wasn’t long before the news got the others about what I really am.”

 

“Jeffory.” Aphmau grabbed his hand, and he jumped, but didn’t move away. “You are not a girl. You’re not anything close to it. Janus is wrong. All of them are wrong, if they still think that. You might have carried Abby and delivered her, but that doesn’t mean you’re a girl.” She tightened her grip on his hand. “You’re Jeffory the Golden Heart, the bravest, most kind Juror I’ve ever met.”

 

Jeffory sobbed loudly and fell into Aphmau’s shoulder, shaking as he cried. Aphmau wrapped her arms tight around him, never wanting to let him go back towards Janus or Zane again.

 

Notes:

thank u Caitlin for reminding me that this fic still exists and that I still have the whole thing planned out I just need to write 😳✌️

Chapter 8: 8. Kingswood Hunt

Summary:

Aphmau is taken on a royal hunt, but as always in O’khasis, nothing is what it seems.

Aphmau didn’t like the sick feeling rolling over and over in her stomach. Sure, it might be from nervousness, but why would she be nervous now? Zane was taking her out on her first real event with the Jury — a hunt, for sport. Many of Zane’s nobles would also be joining them. Aphmau was just happy that she had her own horse again, a beautiful brown mare that the stableboy had said was named Epona.

 

Aphmau wasn’t necessarily worried about the hunting aspect of the day. She had hunted many times before, and the sight of blood or a dead animal didn’t make her queasy. However it was the fact that she was hunting alongside Zane that made her irked.

 

Another thing that had bugged her was that she hadn’t seen Jeffory or Katelyn at all since the hunt was announced. It wasn’t that they had gone off on a mission, like some of the other Jurors had; she still saw them at Jury dinners, yet they left abruptly after the meal was done. Almost as if they were avoiding her.

 

Aphmau was greatly perplexed about why they were evading her. She didn’t remember ever mentioning Victoria or insulting Katelyn — they just turned their heads and bit their cheeks whenever they happened to pass each other.

 

She hoped to see them out on the hunt and ask them why they had been avoiding her. The Jury was spread out, flanking Zane and Aphmau’s horses. Jeffory and Katelyn were on opposite ends, far away from Aphmau.

 

Zane pulled on the reins of his horse, and the rest of the party also stopped. Multiple of Zane’s nobles were also gathered to participate. Aphmau watched as a few attendants dragged huge wooden boxes out from wagons that had been accompanying the party.

 

“Friends,” Zane called out. “It’s my pleasure to begin our hunt. And I’m also pleased to have my wife here on her first hunt.”

 

Zane reached out, picked up Aphmau’s hand, and pressed it to his mask, miming a kiss. Aphmau forced a smile. Most of her smiles had been forced for the past month and a half.

 

“Let the hunt begin!” Zane shouted. The nobles whooped and cheered as the attendants forced open the wooden crates. Aphmau expected game like deer and rabbits to come hurtling out. Breeding game for hunt was nothing new to her. There had been a merchant that came through Phoenix Drop just for that trade. So when people, real live people, came pouring out of the crates, she froze.

 

As the people coming out of the crates dispersed into the trees, the nobles turned their horses in pursuit. Soon it was just Aphmau alone with the crates, shell shocked.

 

She had got a fleeting glance at the dozens of people as they ran, terrified, into the woods. She had noticed the feline ears and tails they had.

 

Zane was hunting Meif’was for sport.

 

Aphmau slid off of Epona and tiptoed over to the crates. They were all empty, except for one.

 

Two Meif’wa children were huddled in the back corner, holding each other. A girl and a boy. Both had purple hair, black ears, and tanned skin. The boy had green eyes, and the girl yellow eyes. Their heads snapped in unison towards Aphmau as she stepped into the entrance of the crate. The boy whimpered and buried his head in his sister’s shoulder, while she hissed at Aphmau.

 

Aphmau held her hand out, beckoning them. “Don’t be scared,” she said softly. “I want to help you.”

 

The Meif’wa children stared at Aphmau with big eyes. The boy moved first, clambering over his sister to grab Aphmau’s hand. The girl followed more slowly, looking at Aphmau with uncertainty.

 

Aphmau pointed towards the north. “Go that way,” she whispered, even though no one was nearby. “It’s the fastest way out of the kingswood. I would go with you, but I can’t.”

 

“Thank you, Lady Princess,” the little boy gasped, grabbing his sister’s hand and running for the trees. The little girl cast one strange look over her shoulder before they disappeared into the foliage.

 

“That was noble of you.”

 

Aphmau sighed as she heard Jeffory emerge from the bushes. She brushed her dark hair behind her ears, tensing her shoulders.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me we were hunting Meif’was?” She demanded, spinning around to face Jeffory. His big green eyes widened a little. He seemed to tighten his grip on his glaive, which rested at his hip.

 

“We were forbidden to,” Jeffory said bitterly. “Katelyn and I both. Zane knew that if we told you about the hunt, you’d freak out.” He sighed and sat down, leaning his head against a tree trunk. “I guess he was right.”

 

“This is inhumane!” Aphmau exclaimed, waving her arms. “Meif’was are people too! You lot are insane for treating them like animals!”

 

Jeffory’s eyes widened even more. “I’ve never killed a Meif’wa!” He protested. “Katelyn has only killed one, and it was an accident.”

 

“Don’t throw me under the carriage,” Katelyn mused, striding out of the bushes. She had two fat rabbits hanging from her belt. Hands on her hips, she stared down at Jeffory. “I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

 

Jeffory’s brow furrowed. “I would never!” He exclaimed. “When was that? I’ll make it up to you.”

 

Katelyn laughed and ruffled his hair. “I’m messing with you, darling. You’ve always been good with keeping my secrets.”

 

Aphmau’s fists opened and closed at her sides. How could they be so calm at a time like this? When the air was full of the screams of dying people?

 

“Why haven’t you spoken up about anything?” Aphmau demanded. Her anger with everything was boiling up and over, onto Jeffory and Katelyn. “Zane is a terrible person. He’s hurt you so much. Why don’t you stand up and do something?”

 

Jeffory and Katelyn glanced at each other. “Do you think we haven’t tried?” Katelyn said. Her shoulders slumped underneath her armor. “Trust me. Secrets in the Jury run deeper than the deepest sea trench. But Jeffory and I — we have families. If we step out of line, they’ll get hurt. We can’t risk that.”

 

Aphmau wasn’t looking for a resolute explanation. She wanted to rant and rave, to scream and just get out of O’khasis and back to Phoenix Drop. But as she inhaled to yell at them, she yelped in pain instead, crumbling to her knees. Katelyn and Jeffory were instantly at attention on either side of her, with Katelyn supporting her while Jeffory crouched in front of her.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jeffory asked, eyes shining with worry. “What hurts?”

 

“My stomach,” Aphmau groaned. It felt like something was pushing her insides all around; it was the worst case of cramps she’d ever had. “It’s just nerves. And the roast I ate for dinner last night.”

 

Jeffory didn’t reply. Instead, he reached out and pressed a hand flat on her stomach. After a long, agonizing moment, he raised his head to look at her.

 

“You’re pregnant,” he said in a small voice.

 

Aphmau looked down at him. “No, I’m not.”

 

“Yes you are.” Jeffory rose to his feet, his expression unreadable. “Aphmau, do you think our of anyone, I would know best?”

 

“Don’t say that,” Aphmau and Katelyn said at the exact same time.

 

Jeffory glanced at Katelyn. “Aphmau, yoy and Zane...your wedding night. You...?”

 

Aphmau flushed and nodded. “Y-Yes.”

 

Jeffory sighed. “You’re pregnant with the next heir to O’khasis.”

 

Aphmau’s head spun, half from shock and half from the pain in her stomach. “I...I...” she could barely find the words to speak.

 

Katelyn hugged her a little tighter. “We’ll all be here for you, Aphmau,” she said. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. You can get through this.”

 

Aphmau felt tears tremble at the edges of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “I want to go back to the palace,” she whispered.

 

Katelyn hoisted her up back onto her feet. “Let’s go,” she said softly. “Jeffory and I will go with you.”

 

Aphmau hoisted herself back up onto Epona, but was now hyperaware of how delicate she was handling herself. She rode side-saddle, with Jeffory leading the horse and Katelyn keeping one hand on her leg, keeping her steady.

 

Aphmau could see the city through the trees when she heard a cry, and a Meif’wa woman stumbled through the trees. Aphmau was horrified to see the three arrows sticking out of the woman’s back, making her dress stick to her skin with blood. She held a bundle to her chest, and she was shaking.

 

“Lady Princess,” she gasped, blood dribbling from her mouth. Aphmau shoved past Katelyn and dropped to the ground, rushing over to the woman as she sank to her knees. Aphmau moved with her, holding her arms.

 

“Jeffory, get a medic,” Aphmau cried. She glanced back, but Jeffory hadn’t moved. “Jeffory, please!”

 

Jeffory slowly shook his head. “There’s no medics here,” he said hoarsely.

 

“My lady,” the woman wheezed, and Aphmau turned back to her. She held out her bundle towards Aphmau. “If you are really as kind as the others say you are,” she said weakly, “please. Take my daughter. Let her...let her grow up.”

 

Aphmau gently took the bundle, and when she peeled back the cloth she saw a tiny Mief’wa baby, sound asleep. White hair with teeny gray tabby ears sticking up out of it. Aphmau looked back up at the woman, but she had already slumped over, dead.

 

Aphmau stood, shaking, and held the baby close to herself. She turned back to Jeffory and Katelyn, who were staring at the woman and the baby, lost.

 

“We need to-“ Aphmau began, before another horse crashed through the trees behind them. Ivan was astride it, holding a crossbow.

 

“Ah, I see you found my catch!” Ivan exclaimed, siding off of his black stallion. He strode over to the dead Meif’wa woman and kicked her onto her stomach, yanking the bolts out of her back. “It’s a fine one.” His crimson eyes drifted up to the baby in Aphmau’s arms. “Oh. Yeah, that baby. Hand it over.”

 

Aphmau’s grip tightened on the baby. “Of course not,” she spat. “This is an innocent baby. All these people were innocent, and yet you hunt them for sport?”

 

Ivan laughed - a cruel, cold laugh. “They’re not people,” he snarled. “They’re animals. They invaded our region like pests.”

 

“They’re humans!” Aphmau cried. “They’re people! It’s you who’s the monsters!”

 

Ivan shoved his face close to Aphmau’s. “I could cut you down where you stand,” he growled, softly enough that Jeffory and Katelyn couldn’t hear. “Make it seem like an unfortunate accident.”

 

Aphmau met his smoldering eyes. “I’m carrying the heir to your city inside of me,” she snarled back. “If you kill me, you’re killing your prince’s heir.”

 

Ivan jerked back, eyes wide and mouth open. Aphmau turned on her heel and marched back to Epona, handing the baby to Jeffory, who was watching the whole encounter with wide eyes.

 

“Please make sure my baby isn’t harmed on the way back,” she said, loudly enough for Ivan to hear.

 

Jeffory smiled, his freckled cheeks flushing. “Of course, my lady,” he said. “I’ll make sure the princess isn’t harmed.”

 

Katelyn helped Aphmau back up into the saddle and they rode away from Ivan, who was still groveling where he stood. Aphmau rode back into the city with her head high, feeling more confident than she ever had since entering the city for the first time.