96 | ACT VII, SCENE VII

P R E V I O U S L Y

"Your life," she tinkled, tipping back her head to let out a hearty laugh.

HEWE, STEFFITH.

EDWINA

MOTIONLESS.

EVERY PERSON IN THE clearing was motionless.

Ambrosine's smile was wicked and sweet, shining in all its cruel glory.

The heart under my newly welded ribs stopped beating.

You see, my dear. There's just one more thing left for the power to work. Your life.

This was what she had wanted. All along. This was what she would take, no more, and no less. There was no way Tristan and I would be alive together - not happy, and certainly not together.

He had paid dearly for taking his sister's forbidden life - paid for it with his own. And if I wanted back his life, the only thing that could appease Ambrosine was an offering similar to his, just as powerful, just as deadly - not a shred of power more, not a shred of power less.

His exact equal.

"Kill me."

Not even one second of hesitation stained my words as I simply stepped forward, heart tight. My fragmented family closed in without a second thought, holding me at arm's length from death, their frightened gasps being the only thing that tethered me to this world.

There was nothing to think about, not really.

There was only one reason she had demanded my life - only mine.

To sate her immortal hunger, to keep that monstrous appetite at bay, to keep it from rearing its head towards the heavens like a great monster. It was the only reason why she asked for it. I knew it would work.

"Very well," she murmured, a coy smile slowly bubbling on her lips, a smirk playing about them. Her fingers danced along the blade of a frighteningly sharp dagger, but that fear did not bite - and that dead, rotting thing in my chest inched out to hold it with hungry hands, wanting to feel that bite, wanting to savour it.

"You can't be fucking serious," Aidon snarled beside me, the sound feral and vicious, "don't you dare," his teeth gritted.

I only looked at him with destruction in my eyes.

Llewellyn's crestfallen face looked at me with despair, moisture glimmering in the corners of his eyes.

"Don't you think for even one second-" he began.

I ignored every single word whispered around me as the ivory haired goddess merely wrapped an immortal hand around my wrist, pulling me into the heavy canvas tent flapping in the dusty, ruined wind. Her grip was pincer hard as steel, and I sucked in a sharp breath as I imagined that very hand taking my life as well.

Fear bit me like a knife.

Ambrosine looked at me with a frigid gaze, eyes cold. A knowing smile played on her face, a smile not of joy, but of deceit.

"I suppose you want to offer to bargain in private?" she simpered. "Though I'm afraid the charms you used on your dead husband won't really work on-"

I slapped her, hard.

Fire sprang up in her eyes.

"You rutting bitch-"

I stopped her hand mid air, gripping it so hard that the bone could have cracked.

"You insult his memory again and I will gut you."

The stone goddess spat right at my feet.

"You want to kill me? Do it."

Her hand dove casually to the dagger, the hilt gleaming in the dying light that filtered in through the heavy fabric.

"I've lived two lives," I snarled at her. "You kill me - you kill both Edwina Tremayne and Edna Tremont. Take me if you want, but I will not go down without exacting the cost of my life."

She sneered, the sound mocking me.

"I do not take kindly to being fooled, Tremayne. Your life is mine - and that means all of it. No parts, no bargains, and certainly no extra gifts."

"You mistake me, Ambrosine. I wasn't asking you. That was an order from the Queen Regnant of Endollon."

"I do not take kindly to being given orders either, Regnant. I do not take orders from you," her voice was as sharp as the knife hanging at her side.

"You will, unless you'd like to see that immortal prison of yours burned to the ground. Would you like that, witch? Do you remember what happens to Dilston Castle when I am gone? Have you forgotten the day I razed your son's Keep to the ground, or shall I remind you of that too?"

Her eyes darkened to grey, and a twitch danced on the corner of her full lip. Of course she hadn't forgotten that day I melted Deimos's home into a river of gold - I'd made sure to give them a sight they would never, ever forget.

"You forget the debts you owe me. I saved those three immortals of Vezort, keeping their lives from death. You guard life preciously, Ambrosine - but it seems you favour death and the power that comes with it too blindly."

I would not go down without a fight. Not without making sure that my death counted - that every inch of it meant something. Once I accomplished that, I would go down. Swinging.

Because there was no other way out of this.

There was only silence, and the wind rustling about in the tent.

"After I'm gone, that power is yours. All of it. You've always wanted that gift, haven't you? To feel it rushing in your veins, and hear the singing as it thrummed in your blood? You took my husband, but he wasn't the great prize you were waiting for, was he? It had always been me you wanted."

And even now, I could sense it. Could feel it at the tip of my tongue. Could feel it as I inhaled it, deeply.

That bloodlust.

Something hungry, ravenous guttered in her eyes as they glittered with the promise of my blood. Tempting the predator with fresh meat, I let her look me up and down - let her devour me whole, let her taste that victory, that sheer exultation. Something told me that she would very much enjoy picking me apart inch by inch after I was gone. Very, very much.

All of it could be hers.

Only if she gave me back what she owed.

"I will give you one life debt," she bit out in a strangled voice.

"You owe me three."

Two for her siblings, and one for her daughter.

"One."

"Three."

Our gazes locked in a furious battle of wills, and the ancient, hungry thing flickering in the pits of her gaze filled me with such dread that I could practically hear myself shaking.

"Two," she hissed.

My heart clenched tighter.

"You say one more word, and I take it back. I take it all back."

And something in her voice told me that she meant it.

"Two it is. You owe me two life debts in addition to giving my life for his," I said at last, willing myself to stay rooted, to not run, to not run.

She looked at me with pure loathing.

"I want names," the life deity demanded in a silken voice that made the hair at the back of my neck stand up.

I gave them to her.

I could practically hear the wheels turning in Ambrosine's head.

"It will be done."

Then she gave me a terrible, terrible grin - a thing of such wickedness that I was thankful I hadn't eaten anything in the last twenty four hours.

"We are going to have such fun, you and I," she murmured into my ear, her fingers lingering over the curves of my throat, gently stroking the back of my neck. "After I kill you and Thanatos digs that your spirit out of your worthless, rutting heart, I'm going to drag you to my altar and bind you with the thickest chains of Ekrite I can find. I'm going to use every one of my blades to crush that will of yours. I'm going to wring every wisp of that damned power from you. And then," she was so close, looming inches from my face as a fist wrapped around my throat. "And then, Edwina... I am going to make you scream."

Bile burned my throat as she hummed a quiet song of victory, and brushed her lips against mine. The whiff of jasmine and lotus hit me straight as she dug her long fingers into my hair and pressed me deeper, devouring the taste.

"I look forward to hearing those delightful screams from these red lips," she smiled sweetly, her fingers dancing along the shape of my mouth. Revulsion bottled up in me like poison, but only fear, fear and her promise kept me standing there.

Something told me that the worst was still to come.

"I'll let them go," Ambrosine murmured, nodding. "But you, oh dear - you aren't going anywhere. Not until I strip you of every inch of that ancient bloodsong swimming in your veins. I must say... the prospect does sound delightful - I'm going to have such fun breaking you."

There was only numbness spreading over my skin now, such terrible, lonely numbness. She wouldn't take all that power straight away, no - she'd savour every bit of it, feasting on my fear like the terrible monster she was - and then, maybe, she'd grant my spirit mercy and leave me alone at last. It could take days, weeks, months, years... and no one would ever know. Ever.

I only nodded calmly at her, fists curled. She only gave me a pure, joyful smile - silver eyes glinting - and for a flash, her true form glimmered underneath her features like a flame. A long, shining face full of cold fury, eyes made of unnerving stone that betrayed none of the emotions underneath. The anxiety, monstrous thing that she was stretched out its limbs hungrily, sniffing the blood in the air - the fresh meat that I was.

Now even the numbness was gone. I felt nothing.

I was empty.

There was a hole where my heart had been.

"I have made my decision," my voice was unyielding as we both finally emerged from the tent, the mild breeze blowing the flaps open to reveal fearful, panicked faces full of anguish.

Emerick and Deimos looked at me as if I had lost my mind. As if I was out of my wits. As if to say we tried to kill you for centuries, and here you are - taking your own life like the goddamned coward you are. I supposed I was. Emeline and Halette stood there, lips trembling, tears already falling fast down their cheeks. Amphitrite was white - so, so white. Eric's eyes were wider than I had ever seen. And my brother...

...my brother...

Aidon was in shock. Something rippled through him - something like fury, something like sadness. His fists and his mouth opened and closed and opened again, but no words came out. None at all. Irina stood beside him, her face twisted in a silent plea for mercy.

"I have to," I replied, my voice exceedingly soft. "I have to. Don't you see?"

There was nothing else. I had to. I had to. If this truly meant that only one of us could live... he deserved it more than I. I could not live in a world without him. Death was sweeter. He deserved another day, another life. Anything for the man who had given me his love more freely than breathing. My life was of no consequence for me.

Because my life had lost its every meaning the moment I saw that body.

Because I would be dying until the end of my days if I lived - and it was better to die in that cool, dark oblivion if it could bring him back. Endollon needed her King.

And I would gladly do this all over again... because I was grateful. Grateful for that one year he had given me, thankful for those short days full of giddy happiness. I would do it again - all of it - even for that one moment of peace in my life he had given me.

"Please," Lewellyn held my hand tightly, trembling hard, and he looked frail, so, so frail, already broken twice over his brother and his father's deaths. Moisture trickled down his nose as he gripped my face with both hands. "You don't get to do this to yourself. You don't get to do this to us."

"It's my life," I shot back, even as his face turned whiter than snow.

"You take one step closer to her, I'm going to knock you out with that damned sword of yours," my brother lashed out, words grating harshly. He held me tighter, his grip harder, and desperation lined his eyes as it glimmered dimly.

"I'm sorry, Aidon. It is done."

"We have already lost too many people here today," Helios quietly put a hand on my shoulder, his voice heavy with ancient wisdom. That golden gaze rested on me, filled with sadness. "I beg you... reconsider. Endollon has lost too much. The cost was heavy - but the war is not over. No, it won't end until you build it back, brick by brick, inch by inch. I beg you, Edwina. Don't do this."

"I'm not going to lose you too. Not after him. Please," Llewellyn said hoarsely. Eric nodded beside him, an arm around the younger Valmont's shoulders.

"Your brothers need you," he murmured, silent. "They need you."

"I tried to kill you for more than half a century," Emerick snarled behind him, vengeful and bitter. "Don't you fucking dare die like a bloody coward."

His face had lost all its colour from  the moment he had lost his wife, and now he stood there, watching me like a venomous serpent, full of hatred and misery and broken things - a man left with nothing to lose. Deimos pressed his thin lips together, and not a word escaped him - but those wicked purple eyes said it all. I knew it. Three hundred years spent hunting you down, only for you to die like a rutting coward. You shame me. You shame yourself.

"Don't you see?" I insisted, raising my voice even as tears threatened to flow out of my eyes. "I need to do this. I just have to."

"So I'm just supposed to stand here and watch while you go and chuck a knife into your heart, Edwina?" Llewellyn shouted. "Say this works. Say he comes back. Do you have any idea, any idea about how devastated my brother would be if he woke up to find you dead?"

"So I'm just supposed to sit here and watch, knowing that I could have brought him back but didn't?"

"You are supposed to let my brother rest in peace, Edwina!" he shook me, hard. "What am I supposed to say to him after you're gone? What am I supposed to do with myself after you're gone? Do you ever-" he shook me harder, "-ever think about me? Care about me? I have watched as my sister died. My brother died. My father died. And now I'm supposed to sit here and let you kill yourself?"

"This is my choice to make."

"If you are done with the theatrics, Queen Regnant, I have other business to attend to. Are you coming or not?" Ambrosine's sharp voice jutted into the conversation.

I whipped my head back and looked at her with unending hatred.

"You move an inch from that spot, and I will cut your head myself, bitch."

"I must say, I'm going to miss that feistiness, Edwina," she chuckled softly, tilting her head to one side as she warily watched me with the eyes of a hungry predator. Sizing me up, eyeing me quietly, wondering what to do with my enormous reserves of power when I was gone.

"Please," Atherton said softly, dropping his voice by an octave. "Please, Edwina. My sister is a cheat. Ambrosine wants you dead. It won't bring him back, trust me-"

"Let me go," I pleaded. "I can't live like this. Let me go and bring him back."

"I forbid you from doing that," Emeline broke in, her lips pressed in a thin line. "That man - he loves you - it would break him if you were gone, Edwina."

"Edwina," Aidon begged me, his eyes pooling with moisture as the child in his arms began to wail too. "Please don't do this. Please," he wrapped his arms around me, crushing me in a hug as he shook from sobs. "You're the only family I have left."

"You have Amphitrite," I whispered, my words cracking. "You don't need me."

"I need you," he implored, "we all do."

"You don't."

He dropped to his knees, and there was no happiness left in his eyes as he fell to my feet, his brow touching the ground.

"I have never," he began, "never asked you for anything. But this, Edwina... please - I ask that you reconsider this. Please. Please. That child," his hands shook as he pointed to his son, "that child will never know his aunt. Never know what a fine woman she was. All he would know - that she died for nothing."

"Tristan is not nothing. He is my everything," I whispered. "He gave me everything. And I never - I never gave him anything back-"

"You gave him yourself," Amphitrite's voice caught in her throat as she gave me a heartbroken smile. "And that... that was the biggest gift of all."

"He was a good man," Everard said quietly. "But he deserves better than a life where you are dead. I beg of you, Edwina. Let him rest in peace."

"How can I live like this?" I asked, silent. "How do I live with this? How do I live with myself? After all I've done? After all those people I've killed? Murdered with my own hands? I would prefer death to a life like this. I can't deal with death. I never could, and I never will. This war... this war took away everything. And I can't - I can't spend the rest of forever without him. I can't. He deserves better than a death like this. I love him. He is my soul. My heart. I need him to come back, and when his time comes, he will join me in hell where we both will dance over the ashes of our sorrows. I am tired. Tired of being used, and hurt, and wounded. Tired of watching him fight day after day. I can't watch him like this. So please, please," I begged, "let me go."

Let me go.

And let him come back and fight another day.

They were silent. Utterly silent.

And the only person in the clearing who didn't look at me with hatred or loathing or misery - was the only remaining Halfling ruler, blood red eyes filled with something like understanding. She had lost her people. Her brothers. Her everything.

And she was the only person who understood just to what lengths I would go to bring back the ones I loved. The only person who could read my mind, who knew my mind - and the darkness that thrived in it.

Geneva.

"You," I croaked hoarsely, beckoning her over. "You know what happens to Dilston Castle after I die."

She only nodded quietly.

For my power was tied to the very volcano upon which the castle was built, and once the flames swirling inside me perished for once and for all...

...the volcano would erupt.

And kill thousands.

And Geneva, that queen who leashed two armies with one hand and fought with divinity in the other - she was the only one whose mind bending powers could evacuate Dracnesse within that very hour. The only person who understood, who knew, who would have my back no matter what.

"You know what needs to be done."

She grimaced slightly, but only dipped her head by a fraction of an inch in respect, blood red eyes gleaming. The blades around her waist shone as she curled a hand around a whip, pressing her lips together in bitterness.

"Give me one hour," she said at last, before walking off into the sunset.

And when she was gone, Eric turned on his heel and left too, tugging my sister behind him.

The minutes ticked by, and my family squeezed me tightly, Celinette whimpering even as she held me clutched close to her chest. There were no goodbyes, no farewells - this was not a parting of joy and peace - this was a parting of pain, of necessity and misery, of words left unsaid and deeds left undone. They all believed I was doing this only for Tristan - but if they found out - if they found out what Ambrosine would do to me...

...they wouldn't let me leave.

So I kept my mouth shut, kept those tears and that misery to myself, and smiled. Smiled for what I would do for them, for what I could give them back, for what I could return to my homeland. Emotion welled up in my eyes.

"Aidon," I said at last to him. "I am so sorry."

There was only dying rage in his face. He said nothing.

"Francis," I motioned to my minister, "my will-"

"We will not forget," he said, silent. "We will not forget - Endollon will never forget that without you... we faced certain defeat."

A knot of emotion had stuck in my throat. I could not speak for the life of me.

"Ambrosine," I murmured at last, "if you cheat - I will know."

She only pursed her lips in answer, no emotion in that cold, hard face.

"I would expect no less."

And then Geneva was at my side, face blank, the only sign of feeling being the hard way she gripped my wrist, holding my gaze, looking me right in the eye - holding that stare for a full, long minute. And then she nodded.

It was done.

My people were out of danger then. The will was ready. The deal was sealed.

Eric was beside me, two glasses of wine in his hands, his face a picture of sorrow as Amphitrite clung to me, periwinkle blue eyes filled with tears. One last time I felt her touch me - and I let her have that little bit of happiness, not pulling her away.

"A drink?" he asked hoarsely. "For old times sake?"

I could only nod. I felt nothing. I felt numb.

He wordlessly handed me a glass, and clinked his with mine. The liquid felt cool as it travelled down my throat. The last time I'd ever savor this. The last time I'd see this wretched city, these wretched people. The last time I'd ever wear this crown, or slip on this dress. I felt nothing, but those were tears of remorse, tears of regret, tears for a world that I could have built better were it not for my shortcomings.

I'm sorry, Cosmo. Sorry for not finishing what you started.

So, so sorry. Sorry for my people, sorry for my friends, sorry for my family. Sorry for so many things I could have done had we both got the time for it. Perhaps we would meet in another world. Another life, when we did not have to suffer so much, bear so much pain in order to live. Even as I put down the glass, the white faces of those people silently crying rose up to greet me.

At first Aidon, then Celinette, then Llewellyn, then every member of the crowd touched two fingers of their right hand to their lips and held them out to face the open, dying heavens.

It meant respect, and admiration, and goodbye.

Every inch of my will fought to keep the tears rolling down my cheeks. To show no emotion - to not let them know. I was headed for a terrible, terrible fate - and I intended to use that suffering, to use that pain to make every bit of it mean something.

They'd find out soon enough.

And my parents... my parents.

I'd see them again... eventually. At some point. Perhaps. Perhaps Ambrosine wouldn't grant me that small mercy either, perhaps she'd make them hear my screams as she hurt me. I prayed to every damned god to not let that happen.

And my father.. . I'd beg him for forgiveness if I could - if a person like me could even be forgiven.

"After I'm gone," I declared quietly, "no one stops them. Is that clear?"

They'd take away my soul, my spirit from that crushed body - and drag me to that dead, miserable prison. Leaving my mortal remains for the rest of Endollon to bury - not knowing that I was far, far away - that I myself knew not when that suffering would end.

Years, probably.

Cold faces, angry faces, miserable faces met my eyes. Ambrosine gave Thanatos a slight nod as he looked at me with a sadistic smile, fingers already itching to pick up his blades. His hand gripped that scythe of his, edge gleaming. They both stood right at my back, their very presence reminding me that death wasn't the end, and that I was in for a long, long torture.

"Give me the knife," I said hoarsely, holding out a firm hand. I did not waver. I did not worry. I only closed my eyes, and I saw him in my mind. I felt the sadness, the pangs of sorrow biting at me, I could hear his words ringing in my head. I was doing this. There was no going back.

This was the end.

The final, utter end.

An end I could no longer come back from. A fight I could no longer win. Not a trick of the eye, not a sleight of the hand. An event I could no longer earn victory in or cheat. This war had driven me to despair.

A Cadmean victory.

I lifted the veil from over my face, head heavy.

This was the last time Endollon would  ever see my face.

"Tell Tristan that I love him... and that I'm sorry."

And without a second of hesitation, I picked up the slim Bloodstone dagger and plunged it right into my heart.

• • • • •

Yes, she is dead.

And no, she is not coming back.

We love you, Edwina Tremayne. We hope you rest in peace, but we know you won't be able to. I don't know what hurts me more - Tristan having to wake up to her death, or her being hurt for years and years without anyone knowing. Let's not forget that she struck a deal to bring back two other people to life too (to call in her life debts) but we don't know who those people are.

Any guesses?

Edwina was a good woman. It's been 97 chapters, and here we are... saying goodbye at last.

I'm so sorry it had to end this way.

She really, really deserved better.