Choice Page 5

  "Wha—?" Shahira murmured sleepily, also sitting up. Her hair was tousled, and Mirele thought ze quite liked that look on her before pushing the thought out of hir mind.

  "I don't know," ze replied. Padding over to the door and opening it, ze saw no one in the hallway. They poked hir head out. "Hello?"

  The hallway was empty.

  Shahira walked up beside hir, placing her hand on hir back and sending a shiver down hir spine. "What's that on the floor?" She asked, clearly still drowsy.

  Mirele bent down to pick it up and turned it over in hir hands. A folded piece of parchment. Ze held it up for Shahira to see. "Why did someone slip a note underneath our door?"

  "I don't know," Shahira said. "You might as well read it."

  Suspicion filled Mirele as ze followed Shahira back to bed and sat beside her. Hir fingers quickly unfolded the note, and the icy tendrils of fear wound themselves around hir chest as soon as ze read the first line. It was like the wind had been knocked out of hir.

  "Mirele?" Shahira's concerned face came into hir field of vision. "What is it?"

  Mirele cleared hir throat and began to read. "To the Princess Shahira de Granius and Guardian Mirele Heine."

  All the color drained from Shahira's face. "What?" Her voice sounded so broken.

  "Someone recognized us," Mirele said, clenching the note in hir hands. "I should have been more careful in where we travelled. What was I thinking, bringing you to such a large city where recognition was so likely to happen?" ze muttered, berating hirself. Foolish, foolish, foolish.

  Shahira placed a hand on Mirele's arm. "Hey," she whispered. "It's okay. It's okay. It could have happened anywhere really." Logically, Mirele knew that, but ze couldn't convince hirself that ze had not indeed made a horrendous mistake by coming to Vesuna. "Read the rest of it."

  "Do not be alarmed. We mean you no harm. In fact, we desire your help. Your Royal Highness, your family and throne haven been wrongfully stolen from you by a power-hungry noble. We wish to rectify that. We request that you come to the basement of this establishment as soon as you receive this note. Forgive the secrecy, but such things cannot be discussed in broad daylight," Mirele read. "It's signed with Leon's name."

  "A rebellion?" Shahira asked, eyes wide. "Spirits." She wrapped her arms around herself. "To think that just a couple of weeks ago I was talking about avenging my family and how that would be the right thing to do. Now this."

  "It could be a trap," Mirele muttered.

  Shahira laughed, though it was more a sound of pain than joy. "Even if it is, they know who we are. We're at a loss either way." She sighed. "We might as well go."

  "I cannot willingly bring you to a situation that may result in any harm to you," Mirele said.

  "You swore to be my friend," Shahira said harshly. "Not my Guardian. And right now, a friend would be much appreciated, because I'm going to see what they want." She stood and pulled on her boots.

  Frankly, Mirele was terrified about this, but if Shahira was going to go, then ze needed to be there to protect her. She had magic, yes, but that magic had never been turned to combative purposes before. Shahira was a wizard for purely academic curiosity.

  Mirele wanted to say no, wanted to keep Shahira from going, but ze knew ze could not do such a thing. Ze sighed. "All right. Let me get dressed."

  Ze quickly threw on hir brigandine and boots, hir blade hanging at hir side, and led Shahira down to the basement. The note was clenched in hir hand.

  The basement of The Golden Anchor was dark, filled with barrels of alcohol and food stores. Leon sat in a chair at the end of the room, a door behind him.

  He stood as soon as he saw them. "Good, you got the note."

  In a flash, Mirele shoved him against the door. "If this is a trick or trap or spirits know what else," ze growled, "I will kill you."

  "I swear it is not."

  Mirele narrowed hir eyes but released hir hold on him.

  Leon brushed himself off, taking deep breaths. "You have every reason to be suspicious, Guardian, but I promise that we mean no harm." He gestured to the door. "Please, follow me."

  Shahira grabbed Mirele's hand, and Mirele was too focused on keeping her safe to panic about the contact.

  Leon pulled a chain Mirele hadn't noticed before, and the door swung open, bright light spilling into the room. He walked in, and ze followed, hir free hand on the pommel of hir sword.

  A large wooden table dominated the room, a handful of people standing around it. Maps and other documents lay spread out haphazardly on the table. The person at the head of the table looked up, and Mirele stopped in hir tracks.

  "You're here," the woman said. "Good. I was worried that more extreme tactics would be required, but I'm glad I still know how to grab your attention, Mirele." She spoke as if it had been ages since they last saw each other, and maybe in some sense it had been.

  "Is this real?" Mirele whispered. Do my eyes and ears deceive me?

  At the head of the table, a piece of cloth covering her left eye and her left arm tucked into her doublet, the sleeve hanging listlessly at her side, stood Lucia.

  "Ser Didius?" Shahira took a step forward. "Is that you?"

  Lucia smiled. "I'm short an eye and a working arm, but it's me, Your Royal Highness." She turned to Mirele. "Good to see you well, Mirele."

  "How?" Was all Mirele could get out.

  "By killing every bastard in my way," Lucia snarled. "Victory stands on the brink of sacrifice, no?" She scoffed. "Salah's sacrifice."

  Oh.

  Mirele had already thought that Salah was dead, but to have confirmation… It hurt. "I see," ze muttered, casting hir gaze downwards. Shahira squeezed hir hand.

  "I apologize for cutting in, but we must get down to business," Leon stated. Lucia nodded to him, and he replaced her position at the head of the table. "This is a fledgling resistance, my own creation, with some help from Ser Didius here. I started this when I first heard of the massacre at Pasmyral. News reached Vesuna within a few days because of fast-moving trade routes."

  Mirele nodded. It had only taken hir and Shahira two weeks to reach Vesuna because they'd followed no path and only wandered in an abstract direction. Upon the quickest caravans, pulled by many horses, it would only take three days to reach Vesuna.

  "So I started this," Leon said, gesturing to those standing around the table. "As a former Knight-Commander, I have the military knowledge to pull off a countercoup, if you will. When Ser Didius arrived here not a week ago, our support increased due to the grave story she told of the attack."

  Mirele exchanged a look with Shahira. A former Knight-Commander? Leon?

  Lucia continued speaking for Leon. "To cut to the chase: we want to kill Duchess Zaman and restore the de Granius family to the throne. There is a reason that your family hasn't been dethroned in a hundred years, Princess. They are well-loved." She shrugged, only one shoulder moving. "If you add your voice to ours, people will support us. We can give the throne back to one who deserves it. We can give Navio its rightful queen." Her hand tightened around the hilt of her sword. "A murderer and betrayer cannot sit upon the throne of Navio!"

  Those gathered around the table gave a short cheer.

  "Princess Shahira, we ask for your help," Leon said. "Your family will be avenged, justice will be served, and you will be queen of Navio. Please help us."

  Shahira stepped forward, letting go of Mirele's hand. Her posture was as rigid as could be, and she was the picture of royalty, despite her shabby attire. "I appreciate you seeking justice for my family, and believe me, I want that very badly." Her hand toyed with the hem of her tunic. "Yet this is sudden, far too sudden for me to make such a momentous decision. I ask for some time to ruminate upon my answer and to consult my Guardian, who is both my protector and my counsel." She looked back at Mirele, smiling slightly. Mirele longed to hold her hand again, surprised at being called her counsel, but restrained hirself to only nodding at her. "Please understand, Leon and Ser Didius and
the rest of you."

  For a moment, silence filled the room, and Mirele feared that the rebels would not agree to give Shahira time. Then Leon bent forward in a deep bow, one copied by the others. "Princess, you may have the time you require. We only ask for as swift an answer as you can provide."

  "Thank you. You will have your answer as soon as possible," Shahira replied, returning Leon's bow with a shallower one of her own.

  Leon looked at the rest of those gathered. "My friends, we should draw this meeting to a close. May spirits guide you along smooth paths," he said.

  "May spirits keep you safe," they chorused back, and began to file out, murmuring amongst themselves.

  Leon dipped his head in farewell as he followed the others out and clapped Mirele on the shoulder. "As long as you are under this roof, I will do everything in my power to help protect you and the princess."

  Lucia hung behind, inspecting the maps. "Mirele, a word?"

  Mirele looked to Shahira. "Go upstairs. I'll be along in a bit." When Shahira looked doubtful, Mirele gave her shoulder a squeeze.

  "I'll wait up for you," Shahira whispered and walked out of the room.

  "Give me a damn hug, Mirele," Lucia said, rolling her eye. "It's so good to see you again."

  Mirele covered the distance between them and crushed Lucia in a bear hug, lifting her off the ground. "I'm so happy you're alive," Mirele said, putting Lucia back on the ground and releasing her. "I thought you were dead."

  "And I had no idea if you and the princess made it out," Lucia replied. "But I am happy you did."

  "As am I." Mirele looked down at Lucia's arm and up to her covered eye. "How?"

  Lucia smirked. "One of the Corian knights got a lucky hit on me. Slashed me from here to here." She gestured from her left eyebrow down to her waist. "My arm was unfortunate to be in the way, and now it's useless. So much for my dragonslaying career, huh?"

  "At least you still have one working eye and arm," Mirele offered. "I'm sure there's some dragons you could take down."

  "The only dragon I'm interested in killing is Zaman," Lucia said bitterly. "She has to answer for Salah, my brother, and everyone else this damn coup killed."

  "Your brother?"

  "Found him dead," Lucia stated as if she was talking about the weather. She didn't elaborate, and Mirele didn't ask more about it.

  Mirele looked over the maps. They were incredibly detailed. "It's going to take a lot to retake Pasmyral," Lucia said. "We're trying to get the Duke of Vesuna on our side, but it's slow-going." She sighed. "Shahira's help would be much appreciated. The Duke knows her. He'd listen to her, and then we would have the manpower to take Pasmyral."

  "It's her choice," Mirele replied. Personally, ze was torn. Ze wanted justice, but at the same time, would that be what was best for Shahira? Would that keep her safe? Being queen would only put a larger target on Shahira's back.

  "True enough." A beat and Lucia's mouth curved into a wicked smirk, her eye twinkling. "Remember when I said that you would eventually wind up in the princess's bed? Don't think I didn't see you holding hands with her."

  Ze flushed. "I am not having this conversation with you."

  Lucia laughed, the sound honest and true. "Typical response there, Mirele." She smiled, though it vanished quickly. "I'll be waiting for a response from your princess," she said. "And when this is all over, and we're still standing, I want an explanation about that magic you used." Her expression was dead serious.

  Mirele paled. "I— Yes." Ze clenched their fists. "I will tell you. You're my oldest friend. You deserve that much."

  *~*~*

  Shahira sat on the bed, knees pulled up close and her face buried in them.

  Mirele quietly shut the door behind hir and removed hir sword, brigandine, and boots. "Shahira?"

  She picked her head up and looked at Mirele. She looked so small, so miserable. "You've only called me by name without a title once before, I think."

  Mirele sat beside Shahira on the bed, pulling the blanket over hir legs. "Are you okay?"

  "Not really," Shahira admitted. "I want to say I'm all right, that I can do this, but I really don't know. I don't know if I can just throw away my one chance at freedom and chain myself to the throne for the rest of my life." Her voice was tired and defeated. "But my parents and my brothers and everyone else who died all deserve to be avenged. They deserve that. It's my duty to help. I'm just so tired of living according to duty. That's been my entire life. I've never had the choice to live how I want."

  She leaned into Mirele, drawing her knees closer and wrapping her arms around hir. Mirele put hir arm around her shoulders, holding her close as she let everything out.

  "I just want to live," she said. "Is that selfish of me? To want to live the way I wish and not constantly have to do what's expected of me."

  "I understand," Mirele murmured, unsure of what else ze could say in this situation.

  Shahira sighed shakily, and Mirele was worried that tears would begin to fall. Yet none came. "My life has been a gilded cage for as long as I can remember. I'm afforded all of the privileges and advantages of royalty, but only if I act, dress, and speak a certain way. If I submit to being married off to some disgusting noble. If I put on a good face to everyone." She snorted derisively. "I even had to sneak past all of the guards and, spirits, even you just to have sex with someone! Twice: once with a serving girl and once with a guard," she muttered to herself. "Ridiculous."

  Mirele felt hir ears turn red at that statement, but ze said nothing.

  "I don't know what to do," Shahira said. "I don't know. Mirele," she whispered, turning to hir, "what do I do?"

  "I don't know." Ze tightened hir hold on Shahira. "I think only you can know the answer."

  Shahira sighed.

  "But I do know this," Mirele started, even though hir mind screamed at hir to shut up. "Were it in my power or ability, I would not hesitate to chain myself to the throne in your place to protect you and to bring you joy, Shahira." Shahira's eyes shone with unshed tears. "I only wish for you to be safe and happy," Mirele whispered, hir voice so low ze wasn't sure Shahira could hear hir. I only want your happiness and safety. Nothing else matters.

  "Mirele," Shahira breathed and then her lips were upon hirs. Tears streamed down Shahira's cheeks, wetting Mirele's, but ze didn't care. Hir lips moved against Shahira's, and ze was lost. Mirele's fingers cradled Shahira's cheek and the small of her back, and Shahira intertwined her fingers in Mirele's short hair.

  Breathing heavily, Mirele pulled away slightly, though ze was loath to do so, and rested hir forehead against Shahira's, thumb wiping away the tears on her face. Panic had not yet begun to creep into hir mind, and Mirele intended to enjoy this for as long as possible before it did.

  "I'm not drunk this time," Shahira murmured.

  Mirele's eyes shot open. "What?" ze stammered. "You remember what happened?" Spirits, I had hoped she didn't.

  Shahira rolled her eyes. "As if I could forget kissing you. I've wanted to do this for, spirits, for a very long time." Her already dark cheeks reddened slightly as she blushed and glanced away.

  "You have?" Mirele squeaked. How dignified of hir.

  "Yes," Shahira grumbled. She turned her gaze back to hir. "Last time you freaked out because I was drunk and stopped it, which I appreciate you doing," she smiled. Her voice was soft, cautious. "Was this okay?"

  "Yes!" At Shahira's amused look, Mirele flushed. "I mean, yes. It was. Very all right." Ze leaned forward and pressed hir lips against Shahira's, smiling into the kiss. This was all ze had ever wanted, and it was finally happening. Never in a million years had Mirele believed such a thing could happen.

  As their hands and mouths wandered about their bodies, exploring and reveling in the feeling of each other, a voice at the back of Mirele's mind began to bring thoughts laden with self-doubt and hatred to the forefront of hir mind. Mirele did hir best to ignore them, trying to focus on the beautiful woman in front of hir, the woman ze love
d.

  Yet ze eventually reached hir breaking point. After removing Shahira's tunic and hungrily touching and kissing her chest, relishing the sounds Shahira made, ze felt a tug on hir own shirt. From beneath hir, Shahira raised an eyebrow in a quiet question, and Mirele froze.

  "Mirele?" Shahira asked, worry creeping into her face. "Are you okay? Do you want to stop?"

  "I don't know," ze said, and mentally kicked hirself for the words.

  Shahira sat up and took Mirele's hands in her own. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay. We don't have to do this tonight, or ever, if you don't want to," she said gently, nothing but complete affection in her eyes.

  Mirele shook hir head. "It's not that. I do want this. I want to be with you," ze said. "Physically. And emotionally." Ze wondered just how red hir face was. Ze had never said anything like that to another soul before.

  "Are you not ready?"

  "I've never— Maybe."

  "It's okay, Mirele," Shahira said, and she was smiling. Mirele thought her smile was so radiant. "I'm not going anywhere."

  Thoughts raced through hir mind. I should tell her. I need to. But will she hate me? Spirits, what if she's terrified of me? What if she thinks my feelings aren't real? She said she wouldn't leave, but she doesn't know what I know. Mirele sat on the bed, completely petrified.

  "You shouldn't say things like that until you know the type of person you're speaking to," Mirele said slowly.

  "What do you mean?" Shahira tilted her head to the side.

  Mirele sucked in a breath. It was now or never. Ze climbed out of the bed. Standing, ze lifted hir tunic over hir head and waited, unable to look at Shahira.

  A small gasp escaped Shahira.

  Down one side of Mirele's body, starting on the side of hir breast and extending all the way to hir thigh, ran an ugly burn scar, the flesh badly warped. On hir other side, just underneath hir breast and on hir ribs, lay the mark of the Arisen.

  "Spirits," Shahira breathed. For a while, that was all she said.

  Mirele fidgeted under the scrutiny and brought hirself to finally look at Shahira. Tears fell down her cheeks, and shock, bewilderment, and confusion lay clear as day on her face.