A: Ch. 7.1

Chapter VII

“What have you done?”

“What do you mean, dear brother?”

“You overtook a human who was not your host.”

“Yes.”

“And it was the woman. That is not who we agreed for you.”

“I agreed to nothing.”

“She isn’t capable of holding you. Do you not recall the last human you had?”

“I wanted some fun. I figured the female would scream and run if the beast had approached her. I figured this way would be simpler.”

“She fought you.”

“Yes… No one ever has before. I’ve never felt something quite like it.”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No, you cannot have her.”

“I never said I wanted her.”

“You cannot meddle so intimately with this world.”

“Where is the fun in being an observer? Just ask the Watchers!”

“Perhaps Rubi can reason with you.”

“She just lost her host as well. She’s actually mourning this one.”

Well that had been just plain odd. Everything had been going well; Hilt was teasing her, she grew huffy, and then she went completely insane. She threw herself at him like a desperate whore, kissed him, and then turned around and broke his fucking nose? What the hell?

Still cursing, Hilt looked at himself in the tall mirror in his small and quaint room. Garish purple and chartreuse bruises already popped up on the bridge of his nose and dark circles were forming under his eyes. Gingerly, he dabbed at the congealing blood to assess the damage. It looked to be broken in two places. The top break, the one closest to his eyes, burst through his skin leaving a nasty gash.

Where the hell did that little shit learn how to punch? And why punch? Didn’t women normally slap? Ugh. It had been a long time since Hilt had been this battered up. Not since he was a kid fighting his way through the Nibhein military.  And, well, those didn’t really count. He had been feigning weakness so his challenge to the General would be seen as comical.

Now, he had to deal with his nose. Groaning, he pinched the bridge and tip, wincing fiercely. He sucked in a breath and tried to prepare himself. This would hurt, a lot, but it would be easier now than after it started to heal. Without giving his mind time to reconsider, he pulled the splintered cartilage and bone back to its normal position with a sickening snap.

Hilt roared with pain as he doubled over. His eyes watered and his stomach threatened to upheave. Hobbling over to his bed, Hilt fell back on the covers, still clutching his face as the stabbing pressure slowly dulled into an obnoxious, but tolerable, throb. Slowly, he reached back and fingered the strips of cloth covering his other battle wound. That one likely needed stitches, but he knew better than to trust any of the supposed doctors up here. He would simply have to suffer through another week of healing.

The soft and gentle breathing that Hilt forced upon himself quickly took effect on his body. The sinews of muscle in his neck and shoulders began to relax and his mind began to eschew the pain.

His little escort was becoming irrational and erratic; not a good combination when faced against the perils of the Eversnows. He was thin on options, though. A few of the lords perhaps knew the route north, but he only guessed that they were tucked away in their caravans while soldiers led the way. Master Silae would absolutely know the easiest course but that stubborn old hare would give up his life before giving in to Hilt’s orders. Besides, that bag of bones would never survive the journey.

There was one more, of course, but Hilt had a nagging feeling that he had been the one to send those worthless grunts to attack him. Pathetic. Completely pathetic. Hilt would have to deal with him.

As the tender flesh began to go tingly and numb, the General decided it was time to leave. He had several things to accomplish now. Firstly, he had to figure out what the hell happened with the Lieutenant. He looked in the mirror and washed away the remnants of crimson blood before changing out his shirt. The bruising across his face only made himself more formidable. It only amplified the emerald of his… shit. Those fucking lenses.

Groaning like a five year old child, Hilt pulled out the scratched lenses and washed them as best he could. He hadn’t put them on before he went down to the springs (mainly because he figured no one would be there) and had nearly forgotten them entirely. The purple swelling around his eyes made them quite noticeable. The last thing he wanted after this horrible day was to put those fucking shards of glass in his eyes.

It was late. The golden sun was streaming its last rays of the day through Hilt’s window. His stomach grumbled along with it. Dinner. It growled more persistently. Well, he would have to satisfy that later. He knew a special soldier with an arrow in his shoulder that may not make it through the night. The satisfying thrill that followed the thought was enough to push away the last of Hilt’s pains.

The General was considering what he could swipe from the kitchens when there was a soft knock on the door. He called for them to enter as he wiped the last of the creamy froth from his freshly shaved face.

“Oh!” squeaked a high voice.

Hilt turned. He had been expecting Kya to come crawling back to apologize. Instead he was looking into the freckled face of someone strangely familiar.

“You must be Princess Liore,” Hilt said quickly, sweeping into a bow.

“Oh,” the woman repeated, a delicate flush creeping along her chest. Hilt noticed she didn’t correct him of her change in title. “I wasn’t aware that you were not dressed.” The woman flicked out a fan and started to gently cascade her blushing skin, but did not look away.

Glancing down, Hilt noticed he only had his undershirt on, which gaped open to reveal much of his chest. He hadn’t noticed.

“I’m sorry if I offended you, M’Lady.” He reached for his amethyst overcoat. “I only just returned from that baths beneath the castle.”

“Did you have an altercation with some bath soaps?” the lady asked, motioning to his nose.

“Ah, no,” Hilt said, smiling. “This is a result of the little incident this morning.”

“I wasn’t aware you had been hit in the face!” Liore placed her hand on her chest and gave Hilt a sympathetic frown. Up close the differences between this Liore and Kya were obvious. Liore was likely several inches taller and a stone or so lighter in weight. Her skin had hundreds of more freckles—Hilt figured she wasn’t a noblewoman before this ‘switch’—and her hair was a strange shade of red. It was more brass with a thick texture of straw. She must have used the same type of dyes that Kya did.

“Battles are a curious thing, M’Lady. May I ask why such a beautiful young maiden came knocking upon my humble door?” Hilt asked innocently. He pulled on his coat, but didn’t pull it closed so his tanned front was still exposed.

Liore’s eyes were fixed on him. “I…” she started, losing her train of thought. Unfortunately, as Hilt loved to see women flounder in his presence, she recovered quickly. “I wanted to ensure you weren’t too badly wounded from this morning’s incident. Lieutenant Kya is a dear friend of mine and she informed me that she saw to the punishment of those soldiers. I came to give a personal apology in the name of the Elivagan Castle for their horrid behavior.”

“Surely that could have waited until morn,” Hilt said calmly. He sensed there was more to this visit.

“Yes,” Liore said, giving a soft smile. Her face was more angular than Kya’s. She had high cheekbones, a thinner nose, and tamed eyebrows. The eyes were identical; grey and cold. “I wanted to invite you to dinner this evening. You have been staying with us all this time and I have yet to see you appear at our table to sup. I’m ashamed to call myself the Lady of this House.”

Hilt inwardly smirked. If what Kya and that Cress told him was true, this ‘princess’ had as much say in matters as a common house slave. Her glittering dress and powdered face were a façade. King Yaro’s kingdom would revolt if he exiled the last descendant of their beloved fallen king.

“How kind of you to invite me. It is an honor, Princess. I never expected such a request to come to man as lowly as myself, but the meals from the kitchen are quite suitable for me.” Besides, he didn’t want to slap on a fake smile and sit through hours of factitious chatter.

Liore looked disappointed, so she changed tactics. “Tell me, young Damien, how is it that a smith’s apprentice became so adept with a blade?”

Hilt paused and did not answer, so Liore continued.

“You see, Vawl does not have any weaponry masters. They are all in Parleit to the far east. Your apprenticeship must have been for horseshoes and hammers. Most men from Vawl hardly know what a sword looks like, let alone own two.”

Hilt did not like where this conversation was heading. He had to force himself not to grab ahold of his precious blades. “My father was a military man,” he explained. “After he died, I knew I wanted to be just like him, but I was too young to join ranks. I worked with a smith while training myself at night. As you could see from this morning, I am in desperate need of proper instruction.” Hilt feigned embarrassment and looked down at the floor.

Liore smiled idly. Hilt couldn’t tell if she truly accepted the story. “As for dinner, Mister Damien, I assumed you would be willing to escort me.” It wasn’t a request. “It shall be served soon. How shall you dress?”

Hilt didn’t exactly bring attire fit for a royal meal. He would have to make do with the sparse clothing that was provided in the wardrobes. “I shall just be a moment to change,” he said gracefully.

“I shall wait.”

Hilt paused, waiting for the woman to leave the room, but she stayed put. Well, here was another difference. Kya would never be so forward.

Did these northerners do this every night? Hilt was slightly wary as he watched the swirl of dancers spin about the ballroom. And what about dinner? He knew he should have found a way out of this, but that damn faux-princess wouldn’t leave his room.

His stomach growling persistently, Hilt downed the last of the wine served to him and contemplated swiping a glass from someone else. He hadn’t realized this many lords and ladies remained. But he hadn’t seen many of these faces before, and he had spied into every room in this castle. Had they traveled up here from the other cities? But why were they all here?

Something seemed off, but Hilt could not predict where it would lead. The annoying pangs of anxiety mingled with those of hunger as his fervent mind searched for a clue. What was he missing?

The crowds seemed intent on ignoring him, but that was normal. It didn’t help that he looked like he had scuffled with an angry bear and lost. He didn’t mind. He preferred being in just his own company.

“It is absolutely lovely that you could come, Damien,” chirped a voice at Hilt’s side. He didn’t need to look to know it was the imposter princess.

“I am surprised by the attendance. I hadn’t the slightest clue there were so many nobles in the city.”

“You should see it when the King is here. There are weekly balls and spectacular feasts to feed two-hundred lords and ladies.”

“There are more?” Hilt asked, contorting his face into surprise.

“Oh, you poor dear. You didn’t know the country had such a plethora of nobles, did you?” Liore patted Hilt’s arm, but her touch lingered longer than necessary. “This whole city must be such a wonder to your young and naïve eyes.”

If only this wench knew what those eyes had seen. “Despite the horrid circumstances, I am grateful to be given the opportunity to come to the Capital,” It wasn’t a complete lie. His stomach twinged as the soft scent of Liore’s perfume wafted to his nose. He needed to eat something.

“Excuse me for asking, but when shall dinner be served?” If he didn’t get something in his damn stomach, he’d devour every man, woman and child in the whole castle. He was losing control. The blow to his head and the break in his nose had sparked the furious desire of survival that slept deep within him. Logic and order did not exist there. Most thoughts were obliterated or twisted to fulfill a singular need.

“Oh, but the party is just so lovely! Wouldn’t you care to dance with me, Damien? How often do you get asked by a skáld for a dance, hm?” Liore’s jovial smile and idling fingers upon his arm were rapidly demolishing any barrier Hilt had erected to contain his hungry beast. She couldn’t possibly know, could she? No, she was too primped and polished by royal hands to think for herself. And yet each move that she made left him more vulnerable. It was as if she was asking to be devoured, in every sense of the word.

“Oh, dear Princess, you wouldn’t want to dance with me,” Hilt responded, but a few seconds too late. The pregnant pause had passed the point of social norms and left Liore staring at him strangely. He had to leave. “I was born with two left feet and the rhythm of a broken metronome. It would be painful for you to try and teach me. And now, if you will excuse me.”

Before Liore had time to tie him down, Hilt darted through the couples and wormed past the servants. His fingers clenched together as he tried to control his shaking limbs. He finally broke free of the suffocating ballroom and wandered aimlessly up a set of stairs until he stumbled upon a balcony sitting above the thick crowds.

This was better. Here he could see, analyze, and then execute. It took a few moments for his breathing to return to normal and for his stomach to stop clenching in spasms. It may have been better to abandon the dinner and scout his next meal, and yet his feet would not move. What was holding him back?

Combing through Liore’s words, Hilt distracted his eyes by scanning the crowds. Something had been off about what Liore had said, yet he struggled to pinpoint it. His mind was foggy with the throbbing pulses in his nose and the pangs in his belly.

After a few more moments of fruitless thoughts, Hilt decided he needed sustenance. He turned to leave when the large maple doors below him clanged open. Curious, he paused and watched a phalanx of soldiers file into the room. Oh? And why had the Elivagan army graced such a party?

Party. Shit, why hadn’t he seen that sooner? This was no dinner; Liore had slipped and called it a party. A party for what?

The rows of soldiers marched across the wooden plank floors, dispersing the crowds before splitting down the middle and moving away from each other, creating a perfectly clear line. Lieutenant Kya, in her formal military uniform, strode through the new pathway with a stoic face and clenched fists. The nobles were silent and rather perturbed. The men shifted uncomfortably as she passed and the women wrinkled their noses before looking away.

Kya walked the length of the room, stopping before Princess Liore on a pedestal surrounded by her throng of handmaidens. The Lieutenant’s movements were stiff and forced; she started to fold over into a bow, but her knees instinctively buckled for a curtsey. The women of the room began to chortle and snort. Her crimson face was obvious even from Hilt’s position. Kya finally settled on a salute to the princess. Hilt was thrilled to see a bandage wrapped around her knuckles. Served her right.

“Lieutenant Kya,” Liore started. Her voice was bright and carried easily through the room. “It is an honor for a soldier of your rank to grace us this evening.”

Hilt watched as Kya squirmed slightly. What were they playing at?

“It is during these dark times of war that our nation must remain united.”

Yes, by sending the ‘necessary’ skálds and the King to hide away, Hilt thought. Such united people.

Liore continued. “We cannot lose hope, even when it seems that we have none.”

Hilt wanted to gag. These sappy lines were overused and frankly pathetic. Everyone in that room knew how desperate of a state Elivagar was in. Liore kept gabbing, but he ignored most of it. Instead, his eyes were drawn to a plump figure that was hobbling up to be beside the Princess.

“…And so it is thrilling for me to announce another union. Rare is it for a military betrothal to be approved by the Princess of Elivagar—“

Hilt’s ears perked up.

“—but given the circumstances of our treasured King Yaro’s absence and the lack of a father for the bride, I happily agreed to fill in the role.” Liore beamed as she looked to her side. Cress was sweating and alternating his weight on each foot. The result was that he looked like a swaying pig stuffed into a velvet waistcoat. All he needed was an apple stuffed in his mouth.

“Lords and Ladies of the court, please bear witness as I commend the holy union of marriage of Lieutenant Kya Stål of the Sixth Army to Sir Cress Waterfawn, Knight of Herring Bay.”

That little bitch.

There was a roar of noise. Hilt initially thought it to be the crowds cheering in approval, but his sinking stomach told him it was raucous laughter. Was this some cruel joke? Even Hilt found it tasteless. Regardless, Hilt would not allow all of his work to go to ruin as that wench fluttered away into marriage. He spent too long adapting this plan to her, and he would be damned if it would be ruined now.

Hilt caught a glance of Kya, whose passive face had fallen. Her pale skin had turned a nauseous shade of green and she appeared to be pleading with Liore. The Princess, on the other hand, was trying to calm the crowds. Unable to hear anything, Hilt had no choice but to descend from his hiding spot and join the masses.

Livid, the General shoved his way through the hordes, not bothering to filter whom he came into contact; pompous lords, ostentatious ladies, or armed soldiers, he didn’t care.

He knew better than to let that prick live. Several times now has he spared his life. Unfortunately, the fat brute lost any and all sympathy that Hilt had left.

Nearly blinded by tunnel vision, Hilt forced his way to the back of the room.

“Liore, what are you thinking?” Hilt heard Kya squeak.

“Kya, why are you so upset?” Cress’s voice was barely audible, and despite his size, managed to look like a small, drowned rat.

“Hush, both of you,” Liore snapped. At least the princess was aware of how open a venue they were in. Alas, of the guests in attendance were still doubled over in laughter.

“You have no authority for this! Women are only allowed to be married upwards in rank, by the military law. He’s only a knight. Liore, you understood exactly why I—“

“I said hush!” Liore hissed.

Cress’ eyes locked with Hilt’s. The boy went white, then red, and finally purple. “You,” the boy said, pointing an accusatory finger at the General.

“Aye, me,” Hilt said, crossing his arms across his chest.

“You’ve done this to her.”

“Done what?” Hilt scoffed.

“This is not the place to be speaking,” Liore insisted, trying to silence the men. “Let the group disperse.”

Hilt tried to look at Kya, but noticed a bright flush had crept up from her neck. Her eyes were determinedly focused on the ground.

“You tried to seduce her. You tried to take her,” Cress accused.

Several of the nobles had stopped their laughing and turned their attention to the fat little man. Would he ever learn to shut that hole on his face? A small grin came to Hilt’s face. He could offer to sew it shut. He never liked the tongue or lips, anyway; too tough of a meat.

Cress seemed to take his smirk as an admission of guilt. His many chins began to tremble and his eyes squeezed shut. “I saw them,” Cress finally confessed. “I saw that… beast take her.”

Kya’s eyes went wide and Liore let out a loud squeak. The entire hall was deafeningly silent. Hilt’s eyes locked with Cress’s, daring him to continue.

“Th-They were in the springs. This man stalked her there and waited until they were alone.” There were gasps from the crowd. Weren’t these the same people who had laughed at the girl moments ago? Quite the variable gathering.

“I… I watched as he pinned her down, spread her legs and…” Cress’s eye twitched.

Liar. The fat man saw nothing. But how could he know something, anything, happened in the springs?

“Sir Cress,” Liore whimpered. The Princess tried to comfort the fat boy, but he shrugged her off.

“I told Princess Liore that in order to save our Pr—“ Cress caught himself, “—our greatest Lieutenant from the shame, I would take her on as my own wife. She is the only known person, man or woman, to survive her mission to the south. I could not stand for her name to be tarnished.”

There was some slight snickering from the back. It spread quickly, and soon the whole room was full of chuckles and giggles. How pathetic. Hilt couldn’t stand it anymore.

“And who was to say that my intentions were not ‘pure’, as you say?” Hilt asked, allowing his deep voice to carry.

Cress glared at him. “What are you saying, Damien?”

The man apparently did grow a pair of balls. Hilt would have to remind him who he truly was. But before he could answer, Cress spoke again.

“I challenge you to a duel, Damien.”

“WHAT?” Kya, the silent soldier, finally spoke up. Unfortunately her voice was once again drowned away by the rolling laughter of the ladies and lords. Even the soldiers couldn’t contain themselves. If Hilt could, he would join them. Truly, this man had a wish of death, and Hilt would gladly fulfill it.

“Silence!” Liore announced as the noise slowly filtered away. “On this night which I had hoped to be one of joy and happiness, I was shown how crude many can be. I shall not stand for it. There shall be no further festivities tonight and I ask you all to go to your quarters immediately.”

There was a pause, a moment when everyone tried to guess if the Princess had been sincere, and then a low grumble seeped through the people. Just like Hilt, they wanted to know the end to this fantastic tale that was unfolding before their eyes. The fool Knight challenging the smith boy who had been bested by a girl. Even the greatest of story tellers couldn’t write something so absurd.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing, Cress?” Kya demanded, her words obscured by the disappointed protests of the lords and ladies.

“Me? Kya, how could you react that way? How could you put me into such a contretemps?”

“Contretemps? For you? Have you any idea what you have done? What you are doing?”

Hilt’s stomach rolled violently. He could do it now. Most of the crowds had dispersed. He could pick off the remaining with ease. Cress would be first, of course. Then he would split open that princess and pull out her heart. The soldiers would be next. They wouldn’t be able to react quickly enough. He would slaughter them all. All save for his little fawn. He would make her watch every second, to witness how terrifying of a monster he could be. Perhaps then she would fall into line.

Liore’s sharp voice halted the rest of Hilt’s fantasy, for which he was rather cross.

“Both of you are completely out of line. And you, Damien, how dare you come charging in here like this!”

“I believe that this conversation would be much safer in another room,” Hilt said calmly.

“There is no conversation to be had,” Liore snipped. “Lieutenant Kya will marry Cress, and you, young Damien, will leave this city as quickly as possible.”

Like hell he’d let that happen. “I’d prefer the duel.”

“There will be no duel!” Kya growled, throwing up her arms. “Neither of you are in a position to—“

“I am a Knight, Kya,” Cress reminded.

“Yes, and we all know how valid of a title that is.”

Cress winced, obviously hurt by the comment. Weren’t these three supposed to be friends? Amazing how disruptive a tiny little proposal could be. Well, no reason to leave a pot unstirred.

“I refuse to leave Lieutenant Kya’s side,” Hilt announced. “I have guarded her for many weeks now and it was the Council’s decision to name me her protector.”

“She won’t need a ‘protector’ when she’s—“ Cress interrupted. Hilt continued to talk over him.

“It is my understanding that in the King’s absence, all matters are to be settled by the Council, not the Princess. We shall let them decide whether or not this challenge of a duel is binding.” He couldn’t believe he had to tolerate this unnecessary spectacle. He just had to pacify them for now. He would leave this fortress as soon as possible. He would drag Kya by her ankles if he had to.

Liore looked furious. “I want you out of my castle.”

“I don’t believe that this is your castle to call your own.” Hilt was walking on thin ice, but he did not care. He was fed up with these people, and damnit, he was really fucking hungry.

“How dare you say that! I am the Princess of—“

“Nothing,” Hilt interjected. “The Princess was stripped of her title soon after her father’s death. But you’re not the princess, so you are not, nor were you ever, the princess of anything. You’re a substitute, a replacement. You are here to take a bullet and ensure that the real skáld isn’t harmed. But it seems to me that you’ve taken your new role quite seriously, haven’t you?”

Liore stared at him, her mouth gaping open and her eyes glossed over. He would likely regret doing that later, but right then his fury had taken over.

“Who do you think you are, peasant?” Liore growled.

“Me?” Hilt asked casually. “I don’t think you truly want to know.”

“Stop,” Kya growled. She stepped forward and raised her hand as if to slap Hilt. He was prepared this time. He grabbed her wrist before she had the opportunity and held it firm.

“I wouldn’t do that, Princess,” Hilt whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. “I’d hate for you to break open those blisters on your knuckles.”

He could feel her pulse racing beneath his fingers and he squeezed a bit harder. She tried to tug away, but Hilt refused to loosen his grip. Instead, he pulled her closer, allowing his breath to brush against her ear.

“We will leave this place, together. If you run, I will hunt you. Be packed tonight, or I will pack for you.” He roughly pushed her back and she stumbled to maintain her balance.

All three of them were staring at Hilt with different expressions. Liore was horrified while Cress seemed stuck between a murderous glare and the desire to vomit. Kya, though, had lost any emotion. Her face was as blank as a piece of parchment with her eyes hardly focusing on anything before her.

“We can discuss this further with the Council, though I have a feeling they may be siding with the poor smith from Vawl,” Hilt said in lively voice. He flashed them a smile, acutely aware of how frightening he must look with a beaming grin and a bashed and bruised face. Good. He thrived in others’ fear.

“If you don’t mind, I plan on retreating to my quarters. This has been quite the day and I think all of us could benefit from a good rest, hm?” Hilt swept into a low bow before turning on his heel and marching out of the ballroom. The dumbfounded trio behind him hardly had time to comprehend his words before the maple doors shut behind him.

Now, it was time for Hilt to feed. 

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