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Story: The Scarlet Alchemist
“You think that just because you were the best alchemist in some backwater village, you know better than the alchemists who have been here for centuries?” she said. “Once she has you, and your blood, the only way to live is to serve her.”
She kicked me again and I rolled over onto my face.
“You’re a coward!”I said into the ground. I didn’t care how much she beat me. Let her kill me again and waste all her hard work. I didn’t care. “You think you’re the greatest alchemist in the empire, but you’re spineless just like the rest of the royal court.”
I braced myself for another strike, but it never came. When I dared to look up, the Moon Alchemist was staring down at me with a perfectly even expression, like she didn’t know me at all.
“We’re done for today,” she said, turning around. “Get out of my sight.”
I shuffled back to my room, trying not to draw too much attention to myself even though I couldn’t help wrapping a hand around my stomach. I tasted blood running from my nose and wiped it away with my sleeve.
“Zilan!” the prince called from somewhere behind me.
I hesitated, wishing the Moon Alchemist had just killed me when she’d had the chance.
The prince had frozen halfway across a courtyard, his flock of wide-eyed servants all turning toward me in confusion. I thought about last night, how gentle his hands had been, even when they traced over my soul tag. I felt like he could see straight through me, right down to the bone.
He was already crossing the courtyard, servants toddling behind him like startled ducklings.
“Your Highness, your meeting—”
“Not now,” he said, waving a hand behind him, not tearing his gaze from me. He looked at me with the same gray expression that people had always worn when they first heard my mother died, like I was too-thin ceramic that would break apart. He reached for my hand when he came closer, frowning at the dirt ground into my knuckles.
“What happened to you?” he said, examining my face. “Who did this?”
“Training exercise,” I said, looking away. “You don’t need to execute anyone, I promise.”
He frowned, but nodded and released me.
“Are you all right?” he said, his voice lower, and I knew he wasn’t talking about my bloody nose.
I had an overwhelming urge to wrap my arms around him and cry, to have him lie to me and say everything would be fine, that all his money and power could fix everything for me.
“We need to talk when you’re free,” I said instead, my words soulless as I glanced pointedly at his servants.
“We can talk right now,” he said, spinning toward them. “Everyone go away.”
“Your Highness,” one of them said, grimacing, “your meeting—”
“Not right now,” I said to the prince. “I need to...” Change into non-bloody clothes? Try to sleep? Cry? Even if he figured out where my cousins were, I was going to be useless when it came to rescuing them if I still felt this shaky and nauseous and ready to burst into a thousand shards. My last attempt at overtired alchemy had left his little sister in a coma.
“Whatever you want, Zilan,” the prince said, thumb tracing under my eyes, like he knew I hadn’t slept but didn’t want to say it out loud.
I thought about the Moon Alchemist telling me not to explain what I really was to the prince. His eyes were so bright and earnest that it felt cruel to lie to him.
“I’m sorry. About last night,” I said at last. “I... I just panicked.” That much was true, at least.
He took my hand and pressed a kiss to it. I tensed up, casting a nervous glance to his servants just behind him, but he didn’t seem bothered.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he said. He raised his sleeve, wiping the blood from my nose. “I know your training is important, but I wish they wouldn’t damage your pretty face,” he said with a soft smile.
I tried to smile in return, but it probably looked more like a grimace. I imagined a horse stomping on my face as a child.
“I’ll see you tonight?” he asked.
I nodded. “You should go before your servants start to cry,” I said, gesturing to the man who had begun nervously pacing.
“I think they’ll live,” he said, squeezing my hand. I turned away, knowing he wouldn’t leave unless I did first. I could hardly feel my feet carrying me away, my stomach such a nauseous mess of worry that I wanted to throw up until every part of me was empty. Everything with the prince was so spectacularly poorly timed. It was too hard to appreciate him when I was busy imagining my cousins being strung up and tortured in dungeons while my mentor shrugged and saidIt’s my duty.
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