“I let her take you from me once,” he said. “Now I am to let her take you again?”
Zarrah felt the weight of the same loss. He was her father, yet all she had of him were faded memories from her childhood. To her, he was a ghost and the commander, not yet her father, and she
“At what cost?” her father shouted. “And to what end, if you are dead at her hands?” Catching hold wished with all her heart that there had been time to change that.
of her shoulders, he shook her. “This is the last thing Keris would want you to do. We will retreat, but Prayed that there still would be.
“She’s not taking me this time,” Zarrah finally answered. “I’m choosing to go of my own volition, because I believe it the right choice for our people. I … I still believe I can win this, Father.”
“How?”
She hesitated, not wanting to give false hope. “I believe in Valcotta. In the people. I believe that if given the choice, they will make the right one for the future.”
Her father looked away, and Zarrah’s chest sank. After all these years of fighting, he had no faith in the people he fought for.
“I’m going with you.”
“No, you are not,” she retorted, more startled than anything. “Not only do I need you to lead the her aunt had stood by her? How she’d held her while tears drenched her cheeks and sobs wracked herrebels free of this, but coming with me would be suicide. You, she won’t hesitate to kill.”
“I chose the rebellion over you twice,” he said. “I won’t do so a third time.”
Zarrah’s eyes burned. “And if I order you?”
“You will have to have me tied up and put on a horse,” he said. “Even then, it would only be a matter of time until I came after you, daughter.”
It was true she couldn’t stop him. The rebels might call her Empress, but it was her father they’d followed all these years, and she wasn’t fool enough to think they wouldn’t set him free. “Only if you promise to stay hidden once we reach the stadium. And swear you won’t involve yourself.”
His jaw worked back and forth, but he nodded.
Zarrah took a deep breath. “Then let us ride. We don’t have much time.”
Daria clenched her teeth. “Goddamn it, Zarrah.” She gave a sharp shake of her head. “Keris would THEY LEFT BEHIND a camp scrambling to load carts and horses, captains and lieutenants shouting orders under Daria’s watchful eye, and it killed Zarrah to leave them. She’d led them to this place with the promise of victory, only to have them turn tail before the battle even began.
I believed he’d come.
I was wrong.
A shuddering breath left her chest, and Zarrah urged her horse to more speed, heading down the plans, it would still come to battle and death, as it always had. She wanted to tell them to trust her, butroad toward the stadium in the late-afternoon sun.
“Why Meritt?” her father called, reining his galloping horse alongside her mount.
“She’ll appreciate the spectacle of it,” she called back. “Will enjoy taking my surrender with all to see.”
And I want her to relish that moment, she thought silently to herself.
In the distance, a towering structure appeared, and Zarrah guided her horse down a side track in the direction of the abandoned handball stadium. It was formed of two tall parallel walls with triangular pavilions on either end. It had been an age since she’d sat in those bleachers at her mother’s side, watching the game masters call commands to the players from the pavilions at either end, their voices they’d been reunited, Zarrah saw her father’s age. Saw the weathered skin and grey hair, the age spots so loud it seemed like a game played by gods. She remembered the magic of it. Remembered the delight on her mother’s face as she had cheered, able to find joy despite all the challenges she faced.
It was right that the end should come here.
Reining her horse next to the eastern pavilion, Zarrah dismounted. Her father did the same, and together, they climbed the steps and entered the massive pavilion. Dirt and debris had collected in the corners of the stone room she stood in, the only furniture the stone table on which the game masters would rest the pages of their strategy, all the other trappings that had once decorated this place long ago stolen.
“I need the document in which my grandfather declared Mother his heir,” she said, knowing her father had kept it on him at all times during the journey.
“Why?”
“Because when she sees it, she’ll know that she can lie to me no longer.”
Her father looked away, and Zarrah’s chest sank. After all these years of fighting, he had no faith in He hesitated, then extracted the wax-wrapped paper from his inner pocket, handing it to Zarrah.
“Keep it safe. It is the only proof we have of the truth.”
She tucked it into her own pocket, then placed the small lamp she’d brought with her on the table and swiftly lit it.
“They’re coming,” her father said, though the warning was unnecessary, for Zarrah could hear the Imperial Army marching. Her hands were icy, but sweat beaded on her brow. “You need to leave,”
she said. “Before they arrive and it’s too late.” Seeing he was ready to argue, she added, “You either believe I am empress or you don’t, Father. What you say now will demonstrate how much faith you have in me as a ruler.”
Her father huffed out an aggrieved breath. “You are like your mother. Just like her.”
Zarrah didn’t answer, only waited.
“I have faith in you,” he finally said, closing the distance between them and pulling her into a tight embrace. “And I love you dearly, daughter. Know that.”
Zarrah bit her lip to contain her emotions. “Hurry.”
He pressed his hand to his heart. “Good luck, Imperial Majesty.”
The army grew closer, and Zarrah moved to attach a white scrap of fabric to one of the sconces on the front of the pavilion while her father hurried down the steps to retrieve the horses. Mounting one, he took the reins of the other and galloped out of the stadium. Relief flooded her chest with the last uncertainty removed, and she squared her shoulders to wait.
It did not take long.
Scouts moved warily into the stadium, eyes roving as they searched for threats. One cautiously approached, stopping his horse at the base of the steps. “Lay down your weapons and surrender,” he
shouted.
Pulling out her knife, Zarrah pressed the razor tip to her jugular. “I will surrender to the Usurper and none other.”
The man’s jaw tightened, but he backed his horse away, confirming Zarrah’s belief that her aunt had
“She’ll appreciate the spectacle of it,” she called back. “Will enjoy taking my surrender with all to ordered she not be harmed.
More of the army moved into the stadium, men and women casting long shadows as the sun began its descent in the west. Zarrah’s hand trembled from holding the knife in place at her throat, but she In the distance, a towering structure appeared, and Zarrah guided her horse down a side track in thewas afraid to move it lest the soldiers get their hands on her. Which would make all of this for naught.
What if she doesn’t come?