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“Get down now!” Valda ordered, and thankfully, regardless of their skirmish, Maris did as she was told.

“Valda!” Maris shuddered in another gasp as she turned to the pile of bodies. “What happened? What’s going on!?” she asked, her question muffled by the cloth around her face.

“I don’t know, but stay near me,” Valda growled, pulling the Heaven Sword from its sheath. As she turned to the back entrance of the castle, Maris’s trembling hand tugged at her blouse.

“Valda…” Maris whispered, her grip on the blouse becoming tighter. “Is… is that Dristan?” The dread in her voice stabbed Valda’s heart like a burning spear.

Valda’s gaze snapped as she turned to look at the bodies. She inspected from afar, her stomach turning the more she took the sight in. She had killed, she had held fellow soldiers in her arms as they died, she had never in her years as a warrior seen a literal mound of corpses. As she continued her scrutiny, she recognized the faces of soldiers, guards, and maids. Her heartbeat accelerated, and she fought the need to vomit. Adrenaline rushed to her veins until her eyes fell upon the empty, glassy gaze of the young man.

Dristan lay between the bodies of two young maids, his clothing stained with blood, not only his.

Valda closed her eyes, nodded, grabbing Maris and turning her away. “Yes, it is.” Valda tried to keep her voice firm, unwavering, but the more she tried, the harder it became to hold her emotions at bay. “Don’t look, Maris, please.”

“What if… Melvian—” A shuddering breath escaped Maris, as her grip on Valda tightened. “Valda.”

Valda’s stomach dropped.

“Is she there?” Maris asked again, her fear passing over Valda’s chest, eating her whole.

“I didn’t see her,” Valda barked and grabbed Maris by her elbow, dragging her away from the gruesome sight. “We must get inside the castle.” She made her way to the back door, which, oddly, was unguarded.

Maris’s breaths were hard as their footsteps echoed down the marble halls. The soldiers that usually patrolled the halls had been exchanged for faces Valda had never seen in her life.

“Stay close to me.”

“It’s the coup. They entered the castle and—”

“Maris,” Valda mumbled, stopped walking, and clasped her large hands over Maris’s arms. “I need you to do as I say until I figure out what is happening. I need you to focus and trust me.”

Maris nodded, yet her entire body quivered.

“Do you trust me?” Valda asked again, wanting to ground her.

This time, Maris locked her eyes with the queen and gave her a firm, “Yes.”

Valda walked down the aisle, eyeing the unknown soldiers who didn’t even dare to acknowledge her presence, yet they did not attack her either. Walking up to one of them, she stood at his eye level. His gaze never left the unfocused spot he was staring at.

“Name and rank.”

Maris flinched at Valda’s tone.

The soldier did not waver.

“Name. and. Rank,” Valda repeated.

When the soldier did not answer, she pulled his sword from its scabbard and pressed the sharp blade to the soldier’s neck. “I will not repeat myself. If I do not get an answer, I will dispose of you for insubordination.”

The soldier’s eyes finally focused on Valda’s unbendable stare. “How can it be insubordination, when I do not take orders from you.”

Valda flared her nostrils and pressed the edge of the blade to the man’s pulse. “Who do you take orders from?”

The guard answered firmly, “I answer to King Arwin.”

Her hold on the weapon weakened. “Arwin? King?” Valda scoffed. “I must’ve missed his coronation.” Her joking tone did not ease the tension.

“Valda,” Maris warned, her hand moving to the dip of her back, over her belt. She silently pulled her away from the guard. “He is not alone.”

As Valda turned, she could make out the rest of the soldiers guarding the main hall. Their swords were drawn, their stance ready to act on command.