53. Dagmara

The Ilusaurian royal chamber was nearly the same as Dagmara remembered, the only difference was a trio of canvases in the corner. Two were landscapes, exquisitely detailed, and one was a painting of the hounds from Nouchenne. A shudder ran down Dagmara’s spine at the sight, and she quickly redirected her attention to the desk.

Shuffling through the papers at the top, she found nothing useful. Everything was written in Ilusaurian, and she could only decipher half the words. Opening one drawer, she came across a letter to a woman named Ishani with a guild seal. What did Claude have to do with Flaustra? There was an entire stack labeled to this person. What business did they have together? If only Dagmara could read Flaustran.

Then the doorknob rattled.

Dagmara stumbled away from the desk, her heart pounding as the door opened.

“Hello, Dagger,” Sabien said, stepping into the room with a smirk. “I love when I make you nervous.”

“You could’ve knocked,” she retorted. “How did you get in here?”

“As Captain of the Ilusaurian guard it isn’t difficult for me to tell two guards I am taking over their post,” he said. “Find anything?”

“Nothing.”

Dagmara wanted to object or kick him out, but she knew two people searching would be more efficient than one.

Without giving him another moment of her precious time, she returned to the desk, pulling out the next drawer to shuffle through it. She could practically hear the imaginary clock that signaled her time was running out. Pouring rain beat against the large windows, mimicking the pounding of her heart.

She sensed Sabien’s approach before he reached her. He stood behind her, his chest touching her back, as he reached around her to pick up one of the letters written in Flaustran.

“Do you read Flaustran?” he asked, leaning against her until her hips met the edge of the table, her body trapped.

“No, you?” She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, suddenly aware of how close he was to her.

He hesitated, his eyes examining her like she was his prey. “For you I can.”

“A little space, maybe?” Dagmara snapped, elbowing him in the chest, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Is that a request or a command from the new queen?” he asked.

“It…” her mind whirled upon hearing the title of queen, “it’s a request,” she muttered.

“In that case…no,” he leaned closer, his lips inches from her neck. “Also…do you outrank me now?” His eyes glanced at the shimmering crown on her head.

Shoving her shoulder against his chest, this time with as much force as she could muster, Dagmara slipped out from between his body and the table. “Technically, I always outranked you.” She readjusted her crown to make her point.

“As Magdalena, maybe,” Sabien replied. “But now you, Dagmara Zosia, are legally the queen of Ilusauri.”

Dagmara felt her chest tighten. She didn’t want to think of the legalities of any of this. She also didn’t like the way her stomach curled whenever Sabien touched her. She decided to finish looking through the desk when Sabien wasn’t standing over it. Turning on her heel, she went to the armoire.

Opening the door, she searched the entire closet, even using Bernadette’s advice to check for a false back. Crossing to the seating area, she searched both side tables, once against finding nothing of value.

She could hear Sabien rattling around at the desk, searching each drawer thoroughly and making an awful ruckus. If everyone wasn’t at the wedding, and the rain wasn’t so loud, she would have scolded him for causing too much noise.

Then Dagmara crossed to the bed, struggling to kneel in her wedding gown. Dropping her cheek to the ground, she looked underneath. There was nothing but shoes, weapons, and a lot of dust.

“Um…these letters are suspicious,” Sabien muttered under his breath.

“What do they say?” asked Dagmara, careful to rise to her feet slowly to avoid a dizzy spell.

“Seems like His Majesty is corresponding with an assassin in Flaustra to find and kill anyone with a hint of magic,” Sabien said. “Much like what you were doing in Azurem for King Bogdan.”

“Was that what Claude and Guardian Sora were doing in Celestaire?” Dagmara asked. “I heard that he was working with her to look for something…not someone.”

Sabien shrugged.

Dagmara returned to the desk. “Did you find anything else?”

Shaking his head, Sabien replied, “Only a stamp he uses to sign documents and more paperwork.” He returned his attention to the handful of correspondence with Flaustra.

A stamp to sign documents…or maybe to sign false aliases for the three assassins?

“Did you check for false bottoms?”

The captain glanced up from the stack of letters he was holding, a twinkle of amusement in his eye. “I love the way you think.”

Brushing aside the compliment, Dagmara proceeded to open each drawer, examining every inch of it. Sabien continued to flip through the pages. She was grateful for having him here so that he could read the correspondence in Flaustran.

Reaching the final drawer, she almost lost hope. Then she felt a latch, as small as an earring. She pressed against it, but nothing happened. Twisting it, she heard a click. Another compartment cracked open perpendicular to the drawer. Holding her breath, Dagmara slid it open.

The world stopped as Dagmara’s mind went blank. Fear coursed through her veins as she stared down at a mask. It was pure white, with a dent on the chin and a scrape on one cheek. On the center of the forehead was a black symbol. The symbol of the First Prince.

Her heart began to pound in her chest. She wanted to reach out and pick it up, to make sure it was real, but her hands were shaking. The last time she saw this mask, it was on the face of the assassin who killed Aleksy—the assassin who made it out alive.

There was one other item in the drawer. It was an orange bottle, half the size of a perfume bottle. Dagmara picked it up and swirled it, examining the contents.

She could guess what it was by the color. Very few liquids were bright orange.

Popping off the lid, Dagmara brought it to her nose.

Smierc.

This was the poison that was used on the terrace. How Claude had acquired an entire bottle from Azurem, she had no idea. All she knew was that this was plenty of poison to use on the terrace and later frame her for the incident.

“I think this is the evidence we need,” said Sabien, waving a piece of paper in the air. “I guess he planned to send it after the wedding.”

Clutching the bottle in her palm, Dagmara waited for Sabien to read. The thunder rumbled outside, increasing in intensity as the panic rose in her chest.

“Ishani,” Sabien read the letter, translating from Flaustran.“Now that Princess Magdalena is my wife, I have full access to Azurem. We can finally remove her from the picture.”

Dagmara’s stomach flipped. Did Claude know Magda was in Flaustra and that was why he was writing to a woman named Ishani? Or was Claude planning to kill Dagmara tonight now that they were legally wed?

Sabien continued,“Finally the entire Krol line will be gone. I’ve done my part with Azurem as promised, now it’s time you did yours and handled the Flaustran Guardians. Stop wasting my time, otherwise, I’ll get rid of you too.”

Dagmara could barely stand. She backed away, sitting on the bed to keep herself from falling. The betrayal ripped her apart from the inside out. She had fallen in love with Claude, only to discover what she had believed from the beginning…he was the murderer behind it all.

Sabien knew better than to console Dagmara. He placed the pages on the desk and waited for her to meet his gaze. “He still believes you are Princess Magdalena, so he will kill you. And it is only a matter of time before he discovers I have magic, and will execute me too. We have to get out of here.”

His words barely registered. She gripped the vial of poison in her palm. “I can’t believe it.”

“Is it really that hard to believe?” Sabien countered.

No. It wasn’t. That was the problem. She had wanted to believe Claude was innocent. Maybe she missed all the signs because she was blinded by her emotions.

“But there’s still an assassin out there,” Dagmara objected. “Teos said the assassin who escaped after the coronation had a description of a man with red hair and a beard.”

“Couldn’t it have been Claude himself?” Sabien asked.

“No, I said—”

Dagmara froze. It could have been Claude himself. Whoever was behind the mask — whoever she faced off in the cathedral could have been Claude. She had watched him disguise himself time and time again. The wound he received in Nouchenne he hid from her, he hid his wound from Reon in Sailonne, and not to mention the scar down half his face. Who is to say he didn’t make the knight at the Azuremi border see what Claude wanted them to see?

She was so foolish. All the signs were there and she had missed them all.

“By the guardians…” Dagmara said under her breath.

Then there was a brisk knock at the door. “Magdalena?”

It was him.

The Mad King.

Snapping out of her daze, Dagmara jolted upright. “Hide,” she commanded, her voice a whisper.

“You’re going to face him by yourself?” Sabien shot back. He closed the false bottom, concealing the mask, before slamming the drawer closed.

“You’re not supposed to be here!” Dagmara’s whisper was sharp.

The doorknob rattled, and Sabien obeyed. He swiftly disappeared, concealing himself behind the massive silver curtains that hung in front of the floor length windows. He was still large, causing the curtains to billow around his figure, but the shadows of the room concealed his location.

As the door began to open, Dagmara turned away instantly. She hadn’t prepared thoroughly. She hadn’t thought through what she was going to say. Deep down inside, she had wished Claude was innocent, but the insurmountable evidence was undeniable. How could the man she came to know be behind everything?

“Magdalena,” Claude said. The door closed. “They think Celesta troops are nearby—that is what I was called away for earlier. I didn’t believe them but…” Claude’s voice quieted. “Magdalena?”

His boots on the ground alerted Dagmara that he was approaching. She felt her breath hitch, the pit in her stomach making her nauseous.

Then he reached her. The moment his hand touched her arm, she felt a jolt surge through her body. Her adrenaline spiked, a sudden fear coursing through her veins. This was the man who murdered Aleksy.

She whirled to face him. “Don’t touch me!”

The king threw his hands up defensively, his palms open. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, backing up. Then his eyes found the vial in her hand.

She raised the bottle up higher. “I found this,” she said.

“What is that?”

“It’s smierc. A deadly poison. But you know that already.”

A muscle ticked in Claude’s jaw. He let his hands fall slowly to his sides. “What is going on?”

“You tell me,” Dagmara countered.

His head inclined. “I’ve never seen that bottle in my life.”

Lightning flashed outside, the room brightening for a single moment.

She shook her head. “You’re lying. I found the poison next to a mask with a First Prince symbol.”

The king’s eyes narrowed. “You were snooping through my room? I thought we finally trusted one another.”

Dagmara scoffed. “I was a fool to trust you. I also found the letters to Ishani.”

“I don’t…” he paused to shake his head, “So?”

Anger surged through her body. She ran her hand across the table, sending the letters scattering to the ground. “You admitted to killing Bogdan and Aleksy. You planned to kill me tonight.”

“Kill you?” Claude echoed. “What are you talking about?”

“Stop lying to me, Claude. I’ve had enough.”

“I’ve never lied to you, Magdalena—”

“Stop calling me that!” Dagmara yelled. “That’s not my name!”

A deadly silence filled the room. Dagmara could feel the blood coursing through her body, her heart pounding in her chest. She would not drop his gaze, both of them staring intensely at one another.

Claude’s hands flexed before curling into fists. His low voice was calm, making it even more menacing. “What do you mean that’s not your name?”

“I’m not Princess Magdalena. I came in her place,” Dagmara said.

“You’re not…Magdalena?”

“No.”

“Then who are you?”

“It doesn’t matter. You’ve already lost, Claude, because you won’t get to kill the real Magdalena tonight.”

Claude was silent. His mouth was slightly agape, his eyebrows raised on his forehead in surprise. He was unwavering, as still as a statue until he yelled, “Guards!”

Within the same breath, the door burst open to reveal Sacha, barely fitting in the frame. Pierre was directly behind him.

“Seize her,” Claude commanded.

Dagmara’s blood turned to ice. She would not let this be the end.

Using the only weapon she had, Dagmara chucked the bottle of poison directly at the king. Claude threw up his hands, and the glass shattered against his forearms. He let out a shout, the poison splashing in all directions.

Before Dagmara could make a run for it, Sacha had already grabbed her wrist. It was impossible fighting him. As tall as she was, she barely reached his collarbones. In two seconds he gripped both her arms behind her back. Pain surged through her shoulders, but she fought through it, tears welling in her eyes.

However, Pierre remained by the door. He hovered next to Claude, his expression confused.

Claude tore off his shirt before the poison could seep through the fabric. He thrust it to the side, revealing his naked chest. He was all muscle, and his body was tense with anger.

“What was that for?” he yelled.

“Just let me go!” Dagmara screamed, struggling in Sacha’s grip. It was no use. Fighting Sacha was like fighting a stone wall.

“Let you go?” Claude’s voice boomed through the room. “You’ve impersonated a guardian, and our marriage is a fraud! And if I didn’t know better, I’d say you just attacked me!”

She didn’t have any words to counter him. She hadn’t thought this marriage could be considered treason on her part.

Claude panted, gazing at the scattered poison and papers on the ground as he caught his breath. His face twisted with a multitude of indecipherable emotions. Then he raised his head.

“Everything…” he cleared his throat, “It was all a lie? You were using me the whole time?”

“I…” There were no words. None of her feelings for him were a lie. She suppressed her anger long enough to admit, “It wasn’t all a lie.”

Claude took a step toward her. Glass crunched underneath his shoes. “So what part was real?”

Tears threatened to course down her face. Her lip quivered. She didn’t want to answer. She didn’t want to admit it.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said.

“Where is Magdalena? The real Princess?”

“You’ll never find out.” Dagmara scoffed.

Claude nodded, then froze with a jerk. “But if you’re not a guardian…how did you use magic?”

Dagmara glanced in Pierre’s direction. Did he have any idea that it was Sabien who cured Claude during the attack in Sailonne? Would he expose Sabien’s secret?

“That means…” Claude started. “You’re an assassin.”

Dagmara didn’t answer, unsure how he reached that conclusion so quickly.

“So you’re here to kill me?” Claude asked, backing away. His hand went to his bare stomach as though he were injured, his skin glistening in the dim light. “Well, no need anymore, because it feels like you already drove a stake through my heart.”

Then, in the distance, a horn rang out.

“The Celesta,” Pierre blurted out. “They’ve reached the front gates, Your Majesty.”

“What is your name?” Claude asked, ignoring Pierre and the alarm.

Unable to look away, Dagmara held Claude’s pained gaze. She hated the way her heart broke to see him in despair. Why did he look so broken? He was the one who betrayed her. He was the murderer.

“Your Majesty,” Pierre continued. “The Celesta—”

“I need to know the name of the woman who ruined me!” Claude roared, never glancing at Pierre.

“Dagmara.” A tear coursed down her cheek.

Exhaling, Claude closed his eyes as though the name confirmed her betrayal. “Dagmara,” he repeated, and the way he said her name caused her stomach to erupt with butterflies. His eyes opened, finding hers immediately. “I gave you my heart, Dagmara, and you mutilated it. I didn’t know an emotional pain could be this visceral,” his voice wavered, and he didn’t attempt to hide it. “I painted a whole picture of my future where you were the center of it. Now what am I to do?”

“Claude…” she breathed.

“You don’t deserve to say my name,” said Claude. “You will address me as ‘Your Majesty’.”

Another piece was torn from Dagmara’s heart.

Claude turned to Pierre. “Lock her in here, I can’t deal with this now. I have to defend my kingdom.”

Then the Mad King disappeared from the room.

As soon as Sacha released his grip, Dagmara fell to the ground with a hard smack. She hadn’t realized Sacha was holding her up. Immediately, tears started racing down Dagmara’s cheeks and she clutched her chest, feeling more pain than ever before.

Sacha vanished, heading to defend the castle from the oncoming Celesta, but Pierre lingered at the door. Before long, he left, and the door slammed closed. The sound of a bolt echoed through the chamber, signaling a lock.

She knew Claude was the murderer. She had all the proof. Why did it feel like her chest was being ripped apart? Why did she want to chase after him and beg for forgiveness?

Someone was lifting her off her feet, and Dagmara was hardly aware of her surroundings. They were blurred by the tears.

“We have to get out of here,” Sabien said. She had forgotten he was hidden behind the curtain the entire time. He had heard everything. “I wasn’t expecting you to out yourself. They’ll have you executed for deceiving the king, impersonating a guardian, and sabotaging a royal alliance. We have to go.”

Taking her wrist, Sabien yanked her in the direction of the corner. Dagmara stumbled after him, barely able to stand. Everything hurt. Everything felt wrong.

Sabien pressed a panel against the wall, and a door popped open. “It can only open from this side,” Sabien replied. “Once we’re in the passageway we can’t get back into the castle.”

His voice was only words. Dagmara was too broken to think about the hidden passage. She fell in line beside Sabien as they entered the hidden corridor, the passageway sealing behind them. They descended into the secret halls underneath the castle, Sabien leading the way.

“First, we get ourselves to safety, and then we should make sure Princess Magdalena is safe,” Sabien said.

“She is,” Dagmara replied, her voice hoarse as she held back a sob.

“Are you certain? Claude knows you aren’t Magdalena so he will go straight to Azurem to find her.”

“It’s a good thing she’s not in Azurem then,” she snapped.

“Where is she?” asked Sabien.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dagmara replied. After all this time protecting Magda, she still wouldn’t disclose her location. Then a thought struck her. “Queen Bernadette said she would be waiting with an escape carriage in case something went wrong. We have to find her.”

They picked up speed in the tunnels, but her mind was replaying the confrontation with Claude.

She could still hear his broken voice. She could still hear his lies that he had never seen the bottle before. He was so lackadaisical about the letters, it was as if his admittance wasn’t written plain as day.

And how did he make the connection that she was an assassin that quickly after asking how she had magic? It was as if all people with magic who weren’t guardians had to be assassins.

Her mind flashed to her conversation with Queen Bernadette about Dagmara’s mother.

Her heart was removed, but she had no injuries when they found her…evidence she was killed by a Life Guardian…and a mark of the First Prince accompanied her.

Dagmara’s mother had been killed by people with Life magic—the same people she had been ordered to assassinate.

Claude had told King Bogdan his parents were killed by an assassin with Mind magic. Was it true that somehow the First Prince was rising…and that he was sending assassins with magic to take out the guardians? Was there anywhere in the legend that stated the First Prince could grant people magic?

Dagmara and Sabien rounded the corner, and a door appeared at the end of the dark hall. “That’s our exit,” he said.

Dagmara froze in the center of the hallway.

If Claude was the one she faced off against on the day of the coronation, how did he return to Ilusauri so quickly to send the proposal Scribestone to Magdalena? It couldn’t have been Claude who had faced off with her in the throne room.

The captain was forced to come to a halt. He turned over his shoulder and eyed Dagmara curiously. “What’s wrong?”

“It was you,” Dagmara said under her breath. “Claude’s father was killed by an assassin with Mind powers. You have Life magic, which means you were sent for the Life Guardians. That’s why you were in Azurem for the coronation. Why else have you kept my identity a secret and tried to get close to me? You’ve just been waiting for me to tell you where Magda is so you can kill her and finish the job.”

Sabien shifted his weight, planting one hand on his hip. He let out a laugh, “It took you long enough.”