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Dagmara

Two days before the wedding, Dagmara and Claude were set to return to Sailonne for another shipment. They had already made the rounds to the other three provinces, none of which hosted a game of Soulaye. Dagmara was looking forward to their trip to Sailonne. This was her last chance to find out if Lionel was behind the forged papers that helped the assassins cross the border. As head of the capital city of Ilusauri, he was the only one aside from Claude who was able to manage citizenship.

Upon arrival, the formalities and pleasantries remained the same. Lionel invited them to his manor for a cup of tea and a boring conversation. Sabien was coordinating the food delivery somewhere in town, but Martine and Claude’s guards remained at their sides.

Dagmara glanced out the window, seeing the crowd form for another game of Soulaye. There was a flash on the horizon as movement surrounded the border of the town. Dagmara’s eyes narrowed, watching as a barrage of horses flooded through the gate, the riders in crimson attire.

“Claude,” she grabbed his arm, her voice thick with warning.

Both Claude and Lionel followed her gaze.

“What is going on?” Lionel asked.

Claude rose from the chair and pressed a palm to the window. “The Celesta. Why are they here?”

“I don’t know. Stay here, I’ll find out,” Lionel said and immediately proceeded to the exit.

Rushing to the window, Dagmara joined Claude as he eyed the visitors. Shouting broke out from the streets between the opposing groups. There were a dozen riders a few paces from the large crowd preparing for Soulaye. These men were soldiers, equipped with weapons and full armor. The golden tassels glistened on their red shoulder pads, and their faces were hidden with helmets.

“What are they saying?” Dagmara asked, unable to understand Celesta.

“They’re asking for Lionel,” Claude replied.

As if on cue, Lionel exited his manor. The crowd parted as he walked through to face the soldiers.

“Why are you here?” Lionel called, his voice muffled by the glass.

The Celesta soldier at the front began speaking in his native language, and Claude let out an audible gasp.

“What did he say?” Dagmara didn’t care that Magda should have known the language.

“He said Guardian Sora is dead,” Claude whispered, his voice wavering.

It was as if the floor fell from beneath Dagmara’s feet. Another guardian killed?

The voices on the street continued.

“And…” Claude paused, then met Dagmara’s gaze, his face inches from hers. “They say I killed her, and they’re going to burn Ilusauri to the ground.”

Wordless, Dagmara stared back at the king. His expression was indecipherable, mixed with guilt and pain, but there was no fear. Was it possible? Had he sent assassins to kill Guardian Sora like he had sent to kill Bogdan and Aleksy?

Then, multiple events occurred in quick succession. A whiz of an arrow drew the pair’s attention back to the street, and they witnessed the wood lodge into the center of Lionel’s chest. Lionel fell to the ground, his head bashing into the cobblestone, and an immediate uproar began. Dagmara shrieked upon watching the death of the governor, and one of the Celesta soldiers spotted her in the window.

As the world returned to normal speed, Claude yanked her away from the glass. “You have to go.”

“We have to go,” Dagmara corrected.

“No, this is Ilusauri’s war.”

Dagmara yanked out of Claude’s tight grip. “The kingdom needs you alive, and we both need to get out of here.”

He studied her momentarily before he finally let in. “Fine. Martine, lead the way uptown. Sabien will be by the warehouse with the carriages. Pierre, Sacha, save as many citizens as you can.” The guards nodded, all three withdrawing their weapons.

Claude grabbed Dagmara’s hands. He said, “I’ll create a distraction, and then I’ll be right behind you.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’ve never lied to you.”