44. Dagmara

Two days before the wedding, Dagmara and Claude were set to return to Sailonne for another shipment. They had already made the rounds to the other three provinces, none of which hosted a game of Soulaye. Dagmara was looking forward to their trip to Sailonne. This was her last chance to find out if Lionel was behind the forged papers that helped the assassins cross the border. As head of the capital city of Ilusauri, he was the only one aside from Claude who was able to manage citizenship.

Upon arrival, the formalities and pleasantries remained the same. Lionel invited them to his manor for a cup of tea and a boring conversation. Sabien was coordinating the food delivery somewhere in town, but Martine and Claude’s guards remained at their sides.

Dagmara glanced out the window, seeing the crowd form for another game of Soulaye. There was a flash on the horizon as movement surrounded the border of the town. Dagmara’s eyes narrowed, watching as a barrage of horses flooded through the gate, the riders in crimson attire.

“Claude,” she grabbed his arm, her voice thick with warning.

Both Claude and Lionel followed her gaze.

“What is going on?” Lionel asked.

Claude rose from the chair and pressed a palm to the window. “The Celesta. Why are they here?”

“I don’t know. Stay here, I’ll find out,” Lionel said and immediately proceeded to the exit.

Rushing to the window, Dagmara joined Claude as he eyed the visitors. Shouting broke out from the streets between the opposing groups. There were a dozen riders a few paces from the large crowd preparing for Soulaye. These men were soldiers, equipped with weapons and full armor. The golden tassels glistened on their red shoulder pads, and their faces were hidden with helmets.

“What are they saying?” Dagmara asked, unable to understand Celesta.

“They’re asking for Lionel,” Claude replied.

As if on cue, Lionel exited his manor. The crowd parted as he walked through to face the soldiers.

“Why are you here?” Lionel called, his voice muffled by the glass.

The Celesta soldier at the front began speaking in his native language, and Claude let out an audible gasp.

“What did he say?” Dagmara didn’t care that Magda should have known the language.

“He said Guardian Sora is dead,” Claude whispered, his voice wavering.

It was as if the floor fell from beneath Dagmara’s feet. Another guardian killed?

The voices on the street continued.

“And…” Claude paused, then met Dagmara’s gaze, his face inches from hers. “They say I killed her, and they’re going to burn Ilusauri to the ground.”

Wordless, Dagmara stared back at the king. His expression was indecipherable, mixed with guilt and pain, but there was no fear. Was it possible? Had he sent assassins to kill Guardian Sora like he had sent to kill Bogdan and Aleksy?

Then, multiple events occurred in quick succession. A whiz of an arrow drew the pair’s attention back to the street, and they witnessed the wood lodge into the center of Lionel’s chest. Lionel fell to the ground, his head bashing into the cobblestone, and an immediate uproar began. Dagmara shrieked upon watching the death of the governor, and one of the Celesta soldiers spotted her in the window.

As the world returned to normal speed, Claude yanked her away from the glass. “You have to go.”

“We have to go,” Dagmara corrected.

“No, this is Ilusauri’s war.”

Dagmara yanked out of Claude’s tight grip. “The kingdom needs you alive, and we both need to get out of here.”

He studied her momentarily before he finally let in. “Fine. Martine, lead the way uptown. Sabien will be by the warehouse with the carriages. Pierre, Sacha, save as many citizens as you can.” The guards nodded, all three withdrawing their weapons.

Claude grabbed Dagmara’s hands. He said, “I’ll create a distraction, and then I’ll be right behind you.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’ve never lied to you.”

A pang radiated inside Dagmara’s chest. She nodded, and they raced downstairs and onto the street.

The streets were filled with chaos. Villagers were grabbing any weapon they could, completely unarmed against the Celesta soldiers. Dagmara realized in horror that the dozen Celesta soldiers she saw from the window was only the first wave. It was a massacre as arrows rained down from the sky, slaughtering innocent bystanders.

“Go!” Claude yelled at Dagmara before he stepped into the mayhem, outstretching his arms. His eyes were consumed in silver as he commanded his magic.

First, the cobblestone street near the entrance began to break, creating a gaping hole and stopping the oncoming riders from entering town. Then tiles cascaded down from the roofs, and billows of smoke flew up from the ground. The Celesta soldiers dove for cover while others fled. Silver snakes slithered out from the bushes, causing the horses to rear up in fright and knocking some of the riders to the ground.

Dagmara had to remind herself none of it was real before she tore off after Martine.

They wound through the narrow streets, skidding around corners. Dagmara collided into a fleeing villager, but immediately collected herself and was on the run once more. Her heart beat violently, and her chest tightened as she gasped for breath. She had no idea where she was anymore. All she knew was that she had to keep up with Martine.

At the next intersection, a soldier launched themself into the fray. Dagmara barely dodged his curved sword, skidding onto the ground. She could see two soldiers in the distance approaching.

Then the ground lurched underneath Dagmara’s feet. A loud noise cracked the air, shooting through Dagmara’s temples. It was as if an explosion had erupted on the adjacent street, and the building beside them began to crumble. A large piece of stone knocked the soldier out, and Dagmara dove for cover, feeling her palms skid against the ground.

Temporarily stunned, a high-pitched noise rang in Dagmara’s head. She heaved herself to her feet. Smoke surrounded her on all sides, and her head spun as she regained her composure and took in her surroundings.

Her path was completely blocked off by the collapse of the building. The soldier’s limbs poked out under the debris.

By the guardians, it was a real explosion, not one of Claude’s mind projections.

When the deafening ringing began to cease, Dagmara heard the clash of steel. On the opposite side of the debris, Martine flashed in Dagmara’s vision, swiveling under a soldier’s blade and raking her own sword across his arm. When the soldier was unarmed, Martine drove the steel straight through his neck, finding the perfect opening between his armor and helmet.

“Run!” she yelled through the mountain of debris between them.

Dagmara obeyed. She withdrew her dagger and continued uptown, finding a different route. The Celesta had brought explosives with them? They had already killed one of four governors in Ilusauri, what was next? Claude promised he was right behind her, but was he safe?

Luckily the narrow alleyways widened and a large warehouse emerged in the distance. She knew it had to be where Sabien was working when she saw the two carriages parked out front. Sprinting across the cobblestone, Dagmara nearly collided with the carriage as she skidded to a halt.

“Sabien!” she called, but he was nowhere in sight. In fact, this far uptown she could only see a few townspeople darting across the street. But with the amount of surrounding buildings, someone could easily be hiding in the shadows.

A breeze swished past her ear, fluttering her hair, as a dagger flew inches from her head. It lodged into the carriage with a smack. Dagmara whirled around to face a Celesta soldier holding one more dagger in his grip.

There was no time to think of a plan. Tightening her grip on her own dagger, Dagmara withdrew a throwing star from her bodice. She flung it toward the soldier and it lodged into his breastplate. He stumbled slightly, but it only angered him enough to charge at her. His blade glistened in the sun as he raised it over his head.

Withdrawing a smoke vial, Dagmara thrust it to the ground, sending a blast of fog between them. It disoriented the soldier, giving Dagmara the time she needed to slide toward him and drive her dagger under his ribs. With one choke, the soldier collapsed dead.

“Nice move.”

Dagmara whirled toward the voice, raising her dagger, and froze.

Sabien leaned against the carriage, his arms crossed in front of him. His casual demeanor starkly contrasted the screaming in the distance.

“You were watching?” Dagmara questioned, her heart rate an all-time high. Where had he come from? “I could have died.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I had a feeling you knew how to handle yourself,” Sabien replied, his voice smooth. He eyed the fading smoke from Dagmara’s bomb. “Interesting choice.”

“There’s no water nearby,” Dagmara stated, lowering the dagger. “I practice other ways to defend myself.”

Sabien shook his head, uncrossing his arms as he took a step toward her. “See, a Guardian of Life would never say that.” He approached her slowly, but she would not back down. “There’s water in the air…in the ground. There’s even water inside people that you could draw from.”

“What do you know about my magic?” Dagmara snapped.

He smirked. “More than you.” He placed a finger under her chin. “Nice dagger, by the way.”

Her heart lurched. It was the same dagger she had plunged into his chest the night they met in Azurem.

A shadow flashed behind Sabien, and a new fear replaced the one in Dagmara’s chest. “Look out!” she screamed.

Both Sabien and Dagmara ducked the incoming blade, but it was aimed too far over their heads to have even made contact. The soldier was faster than Dagmara had ever seen before. He kicked Sabien in the back of the knee, knocking him off balance, before he grabbed Dagmara’s wrist and yanked her toward his chest. Within the blink of an eye, Dagmara had her back pressed against the soldier’s chest with his blade against her throat.

“Drop the dagger,” he said in Ilusaurian, his accent hard to understand. He sounded so familiar, but Dagmara couldn’t see him. When his curved sword pressed higher on her chin she obeyed, letting her dagger fall.

Sabien had his own weapon drawn, glaring at the intruder but keeping his distance. His jaw ticked in disgust. “Reon.”

Reon Ogawa. The spearhead of the Celesta militia that had held the private meeting with Sabien and Claude the night of the engagement ball.

“I want to speak with Claude,” Reon said.

“Release Princess Magdalena,” Sabien ordered.

“I mean the princess no harm.”

“Then release her.”

“And let you kill me?” Reon asked. “Not until I speak with the king.”

“You will do as the captain says!”

The voice boomed through the clearing. Dagmara recognized it immediately. She couldn’t turn her head to see him approach, but could sense Claude rounding the corner. He came into sight, proceeding to stand beside Sabien. His sword was withdrawn, and his clothing was soaked in blood. His face was covered with dirt and debris, and his free hand clutched his abdomen. Behind him, Pierre had his bow ready and aimed at Reon.

Claude’s expression was full of malice. “Let her go,” he said, enunciating every word, “and I will consider letting you live.”

“Was it you? Did you kill Guardian Sora?” Reon asked, not moving the blade from Dagmara’s throat. But it wasn’t until that moment that Dagmara noticed he held the flat part to her chin. His grip on her arm was light enough that she could break free. He didn’t mean to harm her.

“Of course it wasn’t me!” Claude retorted. “I warned you about this, Reon.”

“I know,” Reon said, his voice soft. Then he lowered the blade.

Dagmara didn’t even stumble out of his grasp for he gracefully released her. She distanced herself, turning to face Reon, and felt Claude’s hand at her lower back. Touching her neck, she checked for blood, but there was none.

Claude gripped her hip. “You alright?”

“Yes.” Dagmara nodded.

The king then removed his hand and limped toward the Celesta militia leader. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

Reon sheathed his sword in attempts to prove he wasn’t a threat. “I didn’t order this attack,” he stated. “It was a reactionary attack to the news of Guardian Sora’s death.”

“Killing my governor is a declaration of war. What proof do they have that I’m to blame?” Claude asked.

“Everything,” Reon replied. “You and Sora chose to keep your agreement a secret, despite my constant disapproval, so the council believes you invaded our lands without permission. They believe you sent assassins.”

“Then tell the council the truth,” Claude said. “We kept it a secret because Guardian Sora wanted to. I respected her wishes. Now you must tell them the truth.”

“The council won’t listen to me,” said Reon. “Rumor has spread that Ilusaurian assassins executed the Azuremi royals.”

“That is not true.”

Reon shook his head, exhaling. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not.”

“So that’s it then?” Claude’s voice broadened with anger. “Celestaire and Ilusauri are at war?”

Reon’s brief silence was enough of an answer.

“Aren’t you the spearhead of the militia?”

“Yes, but I can’t influence the council,” Reon replied. “They will simply have me replaced. As your friend I came to warn you. You must know this is not what I wanted.”

“I don’t have time to go to war with your kingdom, Reon!” Claude yelled. “Take my kingdom as an example! This decay happened when my father was killed and my powers weren’t honed yet. There was no Mind Guardian for five years, and that branch was severed. With Guardian Sora gone, Mind and Spirit are dead. Life and Soul are the only two branches still standing!”

Dagmara could feel the weight of the truth on her shoulders. If Magdalena had Soul magic, not Life magic, that could mean that all the Guardians of Life were gone. That could mean Soul was the only one that remained.

Guardian Sora’s assassination was greater than Claude knew.

“I understand!” Reon replied. “You warned me to heighten security around Guardian Sora, and I did. I have no idea how anyone reached her, and I have no idea how anyone could kill a Guardian of Spirit.”

Claude shook his head, distraught. “I warned you how, Reon,” he growled. “I warned King Bogdan too, and clearly it wasn’t enough even with his assassin.”

Dagmara’s blood turned to ice. “What did you say?” She stepped closer and gripped Claude’s arm. “What about King Bogdan and his assassin?” She completely forgot her role as Princess Magdalena, forgetting that Magda would have said father. But suddenly none of that mattered. King Bogdan kept the reason behind the assassinations she was carrying out a secret. Did Claude know why she was assassinating certain people?

When Dagmara took Claude’s arm, she felt him waver, slightly off balance. His eyes looked fatigued and sweat dripped down his temples. “I will tell you in private.”

Dagmara didn’t want to wait. She wanted to know everything.

“You haven’t told her?” Reon questioned.

“No,” Claude scowled, “because until recently I haven’t trusted her.”

His words felt like a dagger through her chest. She didn’t know why it hurt to hear them, because she had been hiding her identity from him this entire time. He had every right not to trust her. But why wouldn’t he tell her about his correspondence with King Bogdan?

Reon let out an audible sigh, breaking the silence. “I can’t prevent this war, Claude, I simply came to warn you and let you know I will continue what you and Guardian Sora started. I will let you know if I find it, but by the original guardians, I pray I don’t.”

Claude winced, but didn’t respond.

Bringing his fingers to his lips, Reon whistled. Within moments, a black stallion exited the narrow streets and came to Reon’s side. With one swift movement, Reon mounted the horse.

“Get your soldiers out of this town,” Claude growled.

Reon frowned. “Those who are still alive, yes.”

“And hold your men until after my wedding.”

Reon lingered, his horse stamping its hoof impatiently. “I will try to speak with the council, but I make no promises.”

“Reon,” Claude didn’t raise his voice, but it was filled with malice. “Don’t ruin my wedding.”

The Celesta soldier merely snapped his reins, and the horse bolted out of the clearing, toward the smoke rising from downtown.

“Claude,” Dagmara insisted. “I must know what you told King Bogdan.” She took his hand and instantly felt a sticky substance. Looking down, she could see nothing, but felt warmth on her palms.

“We have to get back…” Claude’s voice trailed off as he began to lean against her.

Dagmara barely caught him, his weight nearly knocking her over. His sword clattered to the ground.

“Sabien!” she screamed.

The captain rushed forward, catching Claude before he hit the cobblestone. When the captain cradled Claude, Dagmara saw the blood.

There was so much blood.

It oozed from a rip in his shirt at the center of his stomach, turning his clothes a deep red. The blood on her hands appeared like magic, dripping onto her clothing and collecting under her nails. Dagmara felt bile rising in her throat, and she swallowed it down, suppressing the nausea.

“Pierre grab water!” Sabien yelled and the guard obeyed immediately.

Dagmara dropped to her knees, her hand going to the back of Claude’s neck to prop him up. The king’s eyelids fluttered and a raspy breath escaped from his lips.

“He used magic to hide the wound from Reon,” Sabien said, his tone expertly calm as he examined the wound on Claude’s stomach. “There’s no shards or debris, it must’ve been a sword.”

As Claude began to slip into unconsciousness, his mind magic wore off, and the amount of blood he was hiding increased tenfold. Then, like a stroke of paint, a scar etched down the side of Claude’s face. His left eye became discolored, intersecting the large scar perfectly. The mark was a shade lighter than his skin, and the one side of his face transformed into a gruesome wound.

Gasping, Dagmara yanked her hands away.

“I’m sorry…” Claude choked before his eyes shut completely and his head fell limp.

Sabien scoffed. “Never seen a scar before?”

“No, I—” Dagmara searched for words that never came. Her brain tried to process this new image of the king. There was no denying the giant scar across half his face. “He hid himself from me.”

“He hid his face from everyone,” Sabien said. “If people called me an ugly monster I would have done the same thing.”

Dagmara felt like her chest was being ripped in half.

Then Pierre interrupted the moment, landing on the ground beside them with a clumsy thud. He held a pail of water, splashing half the contents as he extended it toward Sabien. “Here!” he panted.

Sabien claimed the pail immediately. “You need to heal him.”

It wasn’t until Dagmara met Sabien’s gaze did she realize the captain was talking to her.

“The king doesn’t have time, it needs to be now,” Sabien ordered.

Then the realization struck her. He was asking her to use the Life Guardian’s healing powers. Powers that both Aleksy and Bogdan possessed, but she didn’t. Neither did Magdalena, but no one was supposed to know that. How could she reveal the truth in a moment like this when Claude’s life depended on her?

Claude’s life. Looking down at him, his face half disfigured, all the memories flashed before her. If she wanted to, she could let him die. He could be the reason Aleksy and Bogdan were killed. But something inside her fought against the urge. She didn’t want him to die. She didn’t want to admit the feelings she was starting to have for the Mad King.

“Princess!” Sabien yelled.

Her voice was barely audible as she said, “I can’t.”

“P-Princess,” Pierre stammed. “Please save my king.” His voice sounded so innocent. If only she could express that this wasn’t her choice. She wanted to save him, but she couldn’t.

“Magdalena,” Sabien said, his voice guttural. She met his gaze, and his chin angled down, his eyebrows raising. It was almost as if he meant to silently communicate something, but she was in too much distress to interpret it. “I know you’ve never healed someone else before, but you must now. I know you, I’ve watched you, and I know you can. Just channel it.”

Tears began to well in her eyes. “Sabien…I—”

With his free hand, Sabien lunged forward and grabbed her by the wrist. He slammed her palm against the bloody wound on Claude’s stomach. She wanted to pull away, the warmth of the blood making her sick, but Sabien placed his hand firmly on top of hers, holding it in place. She wanted to gag, her nausea overpowering her, and it took everything inside her to disregard the feeling of the wound against her skin.

“Close your eyes and channel now!” Sabien yelled as he poured the pail of water over their hands.

Dagmara squeezed her eyes shut, feeling tears drip down her cheeks as the water rushed through her fingers. She prayed to anybody that could hear her, begging the guardians to save Claude. She remembered when he saved her from the hounds. She remembered dancing with him at the ball and sharing truths about one another in his chamber, the way he remembered her request for salt and learned the Azuremi waltz for her. Then there was the kiss in the forest where she felt emotions she hadn’t for anyone before. All of her feelings for him heightened in that moment, and she knew with horrid certainty that she was helplessly falling for him. No matter what secrets he held about King Bogdan, no matter what scars he had hidden from her, she was falling in love with him. She couldn’t lose him now.

Her palm began to tingle, a warmth spreading through each one of her fingers. A shudder ran up her entire arm, reaching her chest in a blaze that ignited the rest of her body. For a brief moment, everything inside her felt healed. No grief, fear, or pain. A jolt of magic blasted through her hand and entire body.

“Thank you, Princess!” Pierre exclaimed, his voice that of awe.

A wave of emotions returned as an onslaught. Dagmara’s eyes shot open, and she yanked her hand back, clutching it to her chest. Through the rip in Claude’s shirt, underneath the leftover blood, was smooth skin. The injury was gone.

The pail clattered to the ground as Sabien chucked it aside. “I told you,” he said, a proud smirk creasing his lips.

Dagmara looked down at her palm, her hand shaking uncontrollably. Her fingertips prickled with leftover magic.

What had she done?