I stop in the doorway, casting my glance behind me towards Gráinne. Our eyes meet, she’s practically glaring at me, but it’s impossible to tell what she’s thinking.

“I’ll see you out there,” I say, my voice stiff and choked with emotion.

“Just remember what I said.” She looks away, turning her back towards me.

“You too.” I step out into the hall. My gaze lingers until the door seals itself shut with a hiss.

I walk, I walk, and I walk like a ghost through the halls of the dorm. My heart is heavy and aches in my chest. My lips are bruised, the pain a lingering memory of our kiss. Any chance I had of walking away from this is now gone, I’m fully committed. Mother will be so upset with me when she hears. Three weeks? I couldn’t even last three days.

Campus is quiet this morning. It’s the weekend and people partied the night before, unable to contain their excitement for the duel about to take place. It’s almost a sport for these people, which I can understand to a degree. They are so far removed from the horrors of what these machines are capable of. The strict regulations and limitations on weapons prevent people from dying. If the culture surrounding these events weren’t so awful, I could see how it would be fun to watch or take part in, but as it stands, I just find the whole thing disgusting. There is no joy to be had in these fights.

Especially not today.

The hangar bay is a different story from the rest of campus. Staff and engineering students are here working, some just getting off their overnight shifts to finally get their rest. Layla and Quinn are standing by the Phantom Queen, finishing up their last-minute inspection of her. I had told them it wasn’t needed, but they insisted they wanted to be helpful.

I take a moment just to admire her, standing there in twenty-two meters of glory. I really am a very simple creature when it comes to color and style and that’s reflected in the Phantom. I designed her myself. Though I suppose it’s mom’s fault really. It was difficult growing up around the Witchblade and not having that style reflected in my own machine. The jet-black frame and silver trim along the thighs, chest and arms in particular is almost identical. Her face is more angular and detailed though and, her long legs end in a more traditional boot style instead of hooves like the Witchblade. Perhaps the most striking difference is that instead of indigo paneling on the eyes and chest, the Phantom Queen’s is white.

She’s me, I’m her, and together we are power. It’s almost a mantra I say every time I get into the cockpit.

Layla and Quinn spot me and wave me over, both with bright eyes, though Quinn looks a bit awkward as per usual. Seeing their smiles instantly puts me in a better mood.

“Dia!” Layla exclaims. “You did not tell us how incredibly amazing this machine is. Is this just how they build mechs in Central?”

“Well, sometimes,” I say, chuckling. “She’s hardly standard issue. I’ve had to do a lot of solo sorties in pretty rough conditions, so I’ve tinkered with her a lot. You won’t find a mech like her in the military for example.”

Quinn whistles. “Well, she’s gorgeous and that OS she has is really something else. Her ability to do that much parallel processing while you’re integrated is insane. How are you not cooked alive?”

It’s nice to see Quinn come out of her shell when she talks about mechs. I can’t help but grin. “That’s a secret. Is it really so different from the Fomorian Framework? I know you all do something with integrated pilots.”

“It is,” Layla says, “very different. I think I can see some similar DNA between the two, but the FF’s function is to reduce higher brain function to enhance a pilot’s instincts and make them fearless in battle.”

“It turns pilots into berserkers then?” I furrow my brow.

“Yes.” Layla says. “I’d say especially the men but there are very, very few examples of women who pilot so there’s no real data. I’ll say that Gráinne has showed remarkable resistance to that particular effect of the Framework from watching her fights. This though?” She points back towards the Phantom Queen. “I don’t know how a human has the brain power to operate with how much you can do. The swarm-bits alone would generate an astronomical amount of body heat.”

I think back to the fights of Gráinne’s I’ve seen. The one recent fight where she ground that M.E.T.A mech into scrap was telling. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes and known it was her, I wouldn’t believe the same woman I’ve gotten to know would be capable of fighting that way. I hum in thought, scratching my chin.

“Is there anything else you can tell me about it the FF? Doesn’t sound like pilot safety was a big concern.” I cross my arms over my chest, my foot tapping anxiously.

Quinn shakes her head. “Not more than what we’ve said. It’s a recent inclusion into mechs and not a lot of pilots can even make use of it. Some cybernetics are required, too, and that’s expensive.” She shrugs. “You either have to be very rich or be military to get ahold of that kind of augmentation. Only the richest houses here can make use of it. Because who marries Gráinne is so important to them, all the student pilots who represent the houses make use of the Framework.”

I scoff. “I haven’t asked, but I can safely assume that the princess underwent a similar amount of augmentation?”

“Yes,” Layla says. “Gods, I thought she was so cool the first time she stepped out into the arena. The way she thrashed everyone who stood in her path. I was rooting for her to stick it to the emperor, but not even a tricked-out princess can stand up to that kind of power.” She chuckles sardonically, rubbing the back of her neck. “Never thought she’d be so nice though. I think this might be the first fight she’s ever had just for fun.”

“This isn’t for fun. I’m going to win and marry her.” The words came out easily, too easily. I feel my face flush, which is rare for me. Damnit. “I mean–well yes, I’m going to marry her. We’ve talked about it, but I need to win first.”

The pair of them look at one another and then burst out laughing. “Really?” Quinn asks, her eyes for once burning with intensity. “But you’re both girls.” She glances over at Layla very briefly, her cheeks darkening before she pulls her eyes away. “I guess it’s different in Central.” Her tone is crestfallen, she looks down at her feet and shifts side to side. “If you win, you’ll both just leave? Is that the plan?”

“No,” I tell her. “No, it’s not my intention to leave with her. There’s a lot we both want to accomplish, and even more things I want to set right. Do you two trust me?”

They both nod without hesitating. “Of course,” Layla says. “Without a doubt.”

“Okay.” I step forward, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. “I’ll see you both after the match. Thank you for all your help. You two make a great team and I’m better for having you both.”

Layla glances over at Quinn, then at me. She smiles faintly. “Go get her.”

---

“XF01-Phantom Queen, Diarmuid Mirren, launching.” I surge forward, pressed back into my seat by the force of the sling. I’m launched out the end of a tunnel and onto a massive, rocky battlefield. There’s cover behind small hills littered over the terrain. For now, I don’t need them as the duel has yet to officially start. A drone flies past me, one of hundreds flitting about, broadcasting this event live within the local cluster.

Gráinne is likewise launched out of her own tunnel on the far side of the arena. A view screen appears in front of me, and there she is, sitting with her helmet on, obscuring her features. Except her eyes. Her violet eyes shine through the tinted glass visor.

“Are you both ready?” asks a rather amused sounding voice. Another view screen blinks into existence. A young black woman with long braided pink hair is grinning widely through the screen.

“Yes,” Gráinne and I say in unison.

“Then I, Brigid of House Áine, shall bear witness to this unprecedented duel.” Her tone is rather dramatic, almost mocking. She keeps her grin, clapping her hands together exuberantly. “Duelists, you both agree to honor the terms of the stakes you levied against the other?”

“Yes,” we say in unison again.

“Marvelous,” she says, “so prepared. Recite your vows and then you may begin!”

“For honor, for pride, I swear to bring my all to bear against my opponent, to leave nothing on the field of battle,” Gráinne says, her tone fierce and powerful.

“For glory, for dignity, I swear to cover my opponent in my radiance, to conquer the battlefield by force of will.”

“Oh my.” Brigid chuckles. “How terribly romantic.”

“Brigid,” Gráinne says, making no effort to hide her irritation. “Focus.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Brigid looks at me. “By the by, you have a such a nice voice, Diarmuid. A woman?”

She’s baiting me. “Isn’t it obvious?” I ask, unable to resist even though I know it’s a trap.

“Delicious,” she says. “Just delicious.”

“Focus,” Gráinne repeats, practically seething.

“You’ll make for a jealous bride, I can tell.” She cackles. “As always, the one to disable to head of the other first wins. Aces, begin!”

The false sky above shifts at her proclamation, becoming like the void of space. Both Gráinne and I move at the same time, hurtling towards one another at full speed. She draws her sword, slashing at my head, immediately going for victory. Thirteen swarm-bits pop off my mech’s body, and I create an energy barrier with them around me that parries her blade.

I lock them together, forming a proper shield as I draw the long red lance from my back. I thrust it forward. She deftly swipes it aside with her blade, striking again in the same motion. I catch her attack with my shield, push her back, attempting once more to thrust my spear, aiming for her mech’s head. She dodges, leaps back, and draws an energy rifle as she does. She shoots with precision.

I detach the bits from themselves, forming a barrier around me again to disperse the piercing energy of her rifle.

“You really are good,” she says over coms. “I wasn’t sure what I was expecting but those drones of yours are incredibly annoying.”

I smirk. “It’ll be my supreme pleasure to annoy you for a long time to come, Princess.”

“This isn’t a game, Dia,” she snaps. She rushes forward, stowing her weapons and activating that massive claw arm. Pink plasma courses through the entire frame, causing her mech to glow brightly. She holds out her arm, extending it forward beyond its normal reach towards me.

I dash to the side, avoiding it for now. I can’t let her grapple me with that thing, the fight would be over if she catches me. I draw a second lance, a shorter one that emits an energy blade, taking a ready stance with one in each hand.

“Not treating it like a game, Gráinne. Just making you a promise.”

I dodge a second swipe of her hand, plunging the energy spear into a joint. A burst of electricity courses through it, overloading the arm, causing it to go limp.

“What did you do to me?” she hisses, trying to retract the arm. It lies inert on the ground, totally disabled.

“I’m sorry Princess, but I told you exactly what I was going to do and I mean to do it.” I take a ready stance again, circling around her like a hunter would. “You’re an exceptional warrior, Gráinne, but this was never going to be a fight you had a chance of winning.”

“Shut your mouth,” she says. “I will not lose.”

I furrow my brow, taking a deep breath. “I can’t let you win, Princess. I won’t let you."

She boosts forward, plasma jettisoning out from her back. Even with the massive claw hand rendered unusable, she twists her frame around rapidly turning the limp arm into a flail. I shake my head, engaging the swarm. Bursts of green light pour out of the weapons, shredding the arm in midair, severing it from her frame. I push them forward, having them attack her from all angles. She dodges and weaves through the blasts but one catches her leg, cutting out a chunk, causing her mech to fall to the ground. Another beam severs an arm, leaving her with just one remaining. I hear her grunting in pain and frustration over the coms. She stands up, using her other leg to carry her weight.

Sparks flare from her reactor core, panels burst forth exposing the core itself. She lets out an unholy scream as the pink plasma erupts from the frame, dripping molten slag onto the ground.

“Gráinne, what the hell are you doing?” I step back into a stance again, ready for anything.

“Bearing my all!” She runs towards me, picking up the remains of her clawed arm along the way. She throws it at me. “I told you that is what it would take.”

I turn the bits back into a shield having them attach at my mech’s wrist, parrying the thrown arm away from me. She is right behind, moving at blistering speed I wouldn’t have thought was possible given her leg. She draws her sword, slashing at my head with feral intensity. I catch the sword with the red spear, holding my ground against her incredible strength. Even being somewhat bigger than her mech, she pushes me back, shouting in rage. She overpowers and disarms me, sending my spear clattering across the battlefield. She discards her sword, reaching for my head with her bare hand.

I block with my frame’s arm, knocking her hand away. She rotates her body to kick at me with the damaged leg. It smashes against my shield with such force it causes me to stumble back, falling onto the ground with a thunderous clang of grinding steel. It also causes her damaged leg to shatter. She growls over the coms, using her propulsion systems to keep balance on one leg. She jumps on top of me, trying to smash my head with her hand.

There’s nowhere to go. Her hand grasps my faceplate, attempting to crush me. Without her other leg though, I’m able to shove her off me with a solid punch that sends her reeling back. Her frame skitters across the ground. She recovers using her jets to fly in the air, righting herself before charging back in recklessly.

I dodge her attempt to kick my head off by dashing to the side. Each attack of hers is going for victory. She doesn’t bother trying to hit me anywhere else. It makes her predictable despite her great speed. I thrust the short energy spear towards her face. She slips her head past the spear, but the energy tip manages to impale her shoulder. Another burst of electricity renders her attached arm useless. She growls in frustration, spinning her body to slam the limp arm into me.

“Sorry, Princess,” I say, raising my shield to block the blow, shoving her back.

She floats in the sky for a moment, thinking what to do next. The once pristine looking platinum frame is turning black because of the dripping slag pouring out of her reactor core.

“That’s enough!” I shout at her, a mix of frustration and concern in my voice. “You’re going to melt down if you keep this up, Gráinne, then what good will any of this be?”

“You–” Her breath comes out in ragged heaves as she struggles to talk. “You are still holding back. Didn’t you say you would blind me with your radiance? That you’d show me your will? Where is it, Dia? Show me!”

I pause, hesitation gripping at my chest. I drop the short spear to the ground. “As you wish,” I say, taking a deep breath to prepare myself. “Moralltach Protocol, engage.” The breath is stolen from my chest, my vision splits and my mind feels like it shatters into a thousand pieces only to be reformed again in an instant. The Phantom Queen overheats, hissing and creaking as the cooling system catches up to keep me stable. The thirteen swarm-bits snap together, forming into a massive blade I have to wield with both arms. My senses are restored, the integration now fully complete.

I am the Phantom Queen.

“Yes!” She cries out. “That’s what I want. Show me all of you.”

The engines on my back and legs ignite, I float above the ground a moment before blasting off towards her. Even without use of her arms, she still tries to lash out at me with her leg. I slip past the kick, spinning away in the air and swinging the Moralltach in a wide but blindingly quick arc. It slices through her leg easily. She tries again to slam to the limp arm into me, spinning in the air to create enough momentum to get it to move. I catch it at the elbow, crushing it into scrap with the overloaded strength coursing me.

Like this, she stands no chance against me, and she knows it too. I can see it in the desperation of her movements. She still tries to fight, armless and legless now, only able to move because she can fly. Still, there is something about her that sets my nerves on edge, a danger I can sense. This cannot go on any longer. With only a stump of her arm left, she tries to smash it against me. I slip to the side, bringing my sword up diagonally across my body, cleaving the head off the Bansidhe.

The sky above turns into a cloudy day, my name flashing across the sky with VICTORY written underneath. I detach the bits from themselves, reattaching them to me with a heavy metallic clang. The protocol ends, I feel my mind pulling back into myself. I catch her broken, shattered frame in my arms and take us to the ground gently. I cradle her close, for she is a precious parcel.

My cockpit opens, I detach myself completely from the Phantom Queen, my mind and body becoming flesh once more. I step out to walk across our mechs. Gráinne opens her cockpit too, and I step into it. She’s lying back on her seat, tears streaming down her face.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. She chokes back a sob. “Thank you, Dia.”

“Of course,” I say, my voice dropping low and soft. “I told you that I’d win and shatter your cage. I never go back on my word.”

She sniffles, chuckling a bit. “I’m annoyed by how long it took you to finish me off after all that boasting.”

I return the chuckle, and I feel my cheeks turning a touch red. “Sorry,” I say gently “You really are an excellent warrior. I should know, I do this for a living.”

“What, save stupid princesses in over their heads?” She laughs. “What are your rates?”

“In your case? I’ll call it even with marriage.” I reach out my hand towards her.

She takes it, pulling herself up. Her fingers interlace with mine. She removes her helmet with her free hand, smiling at me once it’s off. I do the same.

“Deal.”

I pull her close to me, her chest pressing into mine. I tip her back, kissing her deeply. She wraps her arms around my neck to hold herself steady, kissing me back. We linger like this for a long moment, drinking in one another, only to be interrupted by the sounds and heat from thrusters. A squad of four pale blue humanoid mechs drop in from above, each with a singular ominous red eye. 

I pull away and step in front of Gráinne, staring down the four mechs that have surrounded us.

They train their guns on us but don’t yet fire. “Cease dueling immediately,” one of them says.

“It’s already over,” I shout back.

“The results of this have been nullified. Diarmuid Mirren, you’re under arrest.”

“Like hell I am,” I say, glaring at them. I glance over at the Phantom Queen. I can control the bits even like this if I need to.

“You’re not taking her!” Gráinne shouts. “She is my champion according to the rules laid out by my father, the emperor. On what grounds do you dare interfere?”

“Your father is the one who ordered her arrested, Mistress MacAirt,” the same voice replies. “His orders supersede all else.”

A viewscreen blinks into existence up in the sky, Brigid looks down at us, her lips pulled back into a smug expression. “Is that so?” she asks, her voice haughty and indignant. “This Academy is under the jurisdiction of House Áine, not the Emperor. All the high houses agreed to his terms on the matter of succession, and he dares to change his mind once a champion has earned the title? I think not.” She snaps her fingers.

Dozens of weapons slide out of hidden compartments on the battlefield, all of them point towards the four mechs.

“This is treason!” one of them shouts.

“Treason?” she asks mockingly. “You don’t know the meaning of the word, grunt. If the Emperor wishes to make a fuss over this, he’s welcome to take it up with House Áine, but I am the one who is in charge of this place in the here and now. Lower your weapons or I will have you killed.”

It takes them a moment to consider their choice, but in the end they obey, their boosters activating as they fly off. I breathe a sigh of relief. The viewscreen vanishes but Brigid’s voice rings over coms.

“You owe me, Miss Mirren,” she says, sounding very pleased with herself. “You and your princess should meet me in the dueling office… tomorrow. We have much to discuss.”

The line clicks off before I can respond. I look behind me to Gráinne, her eyes storming with rage.

“I wish every curse upon my father,” she hisses.

“At least we’re okay,” I tell her. “For now.”

Her nose wrinkles in disgust and she fumes for a moment more before nodding. “Give me a ride back? You did destroy my mech.”

I grin. “Of course, Princess. You can sit in my lap.”

I scoop her up bridal style. She lets out a small, surprised yelp, wrapping her arms around my neck as I carry her over the cockpit’s threshold into the Phantom Queen. I sit, the hatch automatically closing. For such a simple trip, I don’t need to integrate into the mech, so I don’t. I want my flesh body to be focused as much as possible on Gráinne.

She grins at me as I begin moving the mech, taking the remains of the Bansidhe with us. She gives me a kiss on the cheek, her face flushed.

“What’s next?” She brushes her hand over my face and through my hair.

I look at her, smirking. “Well, I know we’re engaged… married? Whatever we are.” I chuckle. “Call me crazy, but I think we should go out on a date.”

She blinks a few times, her face becoming several shades redder. “R-right. A date. I’d love to.”

---

The Fianna sky is gold and orange and pink as it shifts into evening. There’s a knock upon my door. I smile, knowing who it is and why she’s here.

“Open.”

The door slides open with a hiss, I turn my attention towards it. My breath catches in my throat, again, for the thousandth time even. There she is, wearing a black cropped top that exposes her stomach, an open black waist-length leather jacket, tight pants and knee-high heeled boots. The all-black outfit looks stunning on her. Around her ribs, peeking out from under her top are what look to be tattoos but I can’t make out what they are, despite staring very hard at them. I gulp, intense heat rushing through my body.

“Dia,” I say, my mouth quite dry.

“Ready?” she asks, a smirk on her face. That deadly, dangerous smirk. “You look stunning.”

“I–yes.” I gather my composure, running my hands down the length of my dress, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles that have suddenly appeared. “Though I think between the two of us, you are the stunning one.” I stare at her abs, fighting hard against the urge to lick my lips.

“Cute,” she says, holding out her hand to me. “Come on, let’s go to dinner.”

A date. The thought forces a broad smile on my face. I walk over to her, taking her hand in mine. I can’t take my eyes off her as we walk out of the building. Until, that is, I see a motorcycle parked outside the dorm. It’s not at all like the transit vehicles students can use. Its design is much sleeker and far more aerodynamic. It looks like it’s built for racing, not transport.

“How did you get this into the school?” I ask, walking up to it to run my fingers along the cool chrome.

“I can store her on the Phantom,” she says. “She can compress when needed so I get good use out of her when I’m in the field.”

“How fast does she go?” I look at her, a smirk on my face. “Can I drive?”

She chuckles at me. “Fast.” Her eyes glance back and forth between me and her bike. She nods. “Sure, take us to your garden.”

I arch a brow. “Not one of the extravagant restaurants?”

“I cooked,” she says. “You’ll see. Let’s see what you can do with her.” She motions towards the bike.

I can’t help but grin as I pull up the hem of my dress to mount the motorcycle. When my hands touch the handlebars the bike whirrs to life. I feel it’s a part of me all the sudden, quite like when I’m piloting but not nearly as intense. I remove my hands; the sensation fades away. “This is whatever system your mech uses?”

She mounts the bike behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Sort of. It’s a normal function of your brain to make vehicles an extension of yourself anyhow. That’s how people can drive at all. This enhances that function to increase safety and handling at high speeds.”

Somehow, I manage to take in what she says, even distracted as I am by her body pressed up against mine. “Right. Makes sense.” I place my hands back on the handlebars, the bike once again whirring to life. It responds to my thoughts and my body knows exactly what to do even though the systems of the bike are very different from what I’m used to. Remarkable technology.

Being at school, I don’t drive nearly as fast as I want to. There’s a part of me that intentionally takes it slow anyhow, enjoying the feeling of Dia’s breasts on my back. She’s holding me far tighter than she needs to, not that I’d dream of complaining. Her touch thrills and comforts me.

Still, the drive is over far too soon. I pull into the garden along the stone path, carefully parking it so as to not damage any grass or flowers. Dia gets off first, walking over to a crate underneath one of the sycamores. It opens at the touch of her palm. A delicious scent wafts over, making my mouth instantly water. She pulls out a blanket which she lays on the grass, a few plates along with cutlery, a bottle of bubbling liquid, and a wicker basket with steam rising from the top.

I join her, sitting down on the blanket. I watch her do final preparations on the food, plating it delicately before sitting down with me and then handing me my food. Now I do lick my lips, unable to help myself at the sight of fluffy mashed potatoes, slightly browned on the top, layered with meat and fresh vegetables.

“Shepherd’s pie?” I breathe in the scent. “It smells divine.”

“Like my mom taught me,” she says. “But I couldn’t get a hold of lamb, so it’s not really shepherd’s pie.”

I giggle. “Well, real meat is near impossible to get on a station like this, to be fair. All the ‘meat’ is plant-based. It’s shepherd’s pie to me. It’s been ages since I’ve had such a simple but delicious-smelling meal. Thank you, Dia.”

“Try it before you thank me too much,” she remarks, almost pouting. Dia scoots next to me, her legs outstretched. She watches me, clearly waiting for my opinion.

I smile at her before taking a bite. The flavors are explosive, fresh herbs and spices igniting my tastebuds. The texture is velvety with a bit of crunch from the veggies, which are perfectly cooked. I let out a little moan at the taste, going back in for another three bites. Not even the royal chef could have done better. I look up to see Dia smiling at me, a look of relief etched on her features. I blush slightly, taking one more bite before talking.

“It’s beyond delicious,” I tell her. “By the gods, this is incredible. Thank you for cooking this for us.”

Her pale skin flushes. “I’m glad.” She takes a few bites of her food as well, eating in silence.

I watch her curiously while I eat. “Something’s on your mind,” I say. “Tell me.”

Dia sighs. “Things are happening faster than I had planned. I’m dealing with strong feelings. Concerns. Anxiety. You name it, I’m feeling it.” She sets her food down, looking over to me. Her piercing white eyes stare at me, unblinking. “Not the least of which is just about us. Whatever this is, is something we should talk frankly about. I don’t actually want to just assume or take things for granted.”

I blink several times, my face turning red. “We’re betrothed?” I ask, confused. “Are you asking me if I want that? Now?”

Dia’s face turns redder. She looks away. “Well, it’s just–never mind.”

“No, it’s sweet,” I say quickly, reaching out to put a hand on her leg. “I just didn’t expect you to ask after all of this, and what we’ve already talked about. What if I say no?”

“Then I’d figure something else out and leave,” she tells me. “Which would… hurt. I really do like you.”

I stifle a giggle, but only just. “I should hope so after that kiss. There’s a lot that comes with this, and your stated goals. But I knew that, agreed to the terms, and fought my best even while wanting desperately for you to win. I couldn’t let you win, of course. I had to know. Now I do.” I look away, unable to bear the intense emotions swelling up in my chest. “I didn’t feel totally safe with you before. I could tell you were hiding something.”

“And now?”

“Now I feel safe.” I laugh. “Which is perhaps very stupid of me, considering you want to… rip all of this down. I want to be here, alongside you.” I look back at her, taking a deep breath. “I feel like I’m living now. Moments like this. A kiss. Holding your hand. Spending time with friends. I’m alive. So, I feel even if that comes to an abrupt end in the fires of battle, I’ll be happy because I was able to live at all.” I scoff, shifting my legs to be a bit more comfortable. I hold my arms around myself. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted; to just be alive.”

She sits very close to me then, her body radiating glorious warmth. Her arm wraps around me, and she presses her lips to the top of my head. “You’ll get to live, Gráinne. I promise you that you’ll get to live for a long time.”

Her long fingers cup my chin, tilting my face towards her. I gladly turn to look her in those gorgeous white eyes, my attention again drawn to that little mole. I reach out and brush my finger along it, stroking her face gently. I lean in for a kiss, pressing my lips against hers. She wraps me up in her arms. I feel swallowed up by her, overwhelmed. I feel hungry.

I push her down. She yelps, not expecting this from me. I bite at her lips, my fingers digging into her jacket. My breath comes out in ragged, passionate waves. Whatever shock I put her through, she recovers quickly, pulling me on top of her. I grin, keeping our lips together. My heart pounds in my chest so hard I fear it might burst.

I feel alive. Gods, I feel so alive.

My datapad sings a song. It sings a specific song. My mother is calling me.

“Oh no,” I say.

Understandably, Dia looks quite confused. She arches a brow. “What?”

“I need to take this. I’m so sorry.” I reluctantly pull away from her to fetch my bag. I reach in to grab the datapad, clipping my nail against something. I hiss in pain, feeling my nail fold back on itself. I accept the call, keeping my voice as even as possible when I say, “Mother.”

“Gráinne,” she says, her tone like sharpened ice. “We need to talk.”

---

My emotions are a storm. The conversation with my mother last night was brief but has left me feeling numb. Even now, as I sit in the office of the dueling council, I feel as if I can hardly pay attention to my surroundings. Dia’s at my side, her presence a great comfort to me. Six days. She’ll be here in six days. I feel the minutes clawing at my mind, each one passing by both too fast and far too slow. I hate this. Not even a single night to just enjoy my life.

At least Dia was there to hold me in the night while I cried and shook in her arms. In that, I was also able to just live. I glance over at her, studying her features, engraving them into my mind.

“Move in with me,” I tell her.

“What?” She blinks.

“Move your things into my dorm.” I squeeze her hand. “I don’t want to waste more time. When we’re finished here, I want you to move in.”

She smiles at me, squeezing my hand in return. “Alright.”

The door behind us hisses open.

Brigid steps into the office, crossing the room to stand in front of us. She is not a woman to be trifled with. She regards us with a curious expression, like a cat looking at prey. She sits lazily on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. Her long pink hair cascades down her shoulders and around her face. She’s beautiful. She’s terrifying. If there is one woman in the empire I would regard as free, it is Brigid.

“Quite the mess you stirred up, Your Highness,” she says to me. “Quite the mess indeed. What were you thinking?”

“A lot,” I retort. “Why did you get in the way of my father’s men?”

Dia folds her arms over her chest. She’s staying quiet for now, but I can tell she’s expecting trouble.

Brigid looks towards her. “Well, I suppose I wanted to see what the fuss was about. Rumor had it that you had your pick of husband, which is a better deal than most. But here you both sit, brides to be. Looking at her now, I can understand. She’s remarkable.” Her smile is sickeningly sweet, setting my nerves on edge.

“I am,” Dia replies, sitting up and returning a grin. “But I don’t care about whatever games are being played here. You said I owe you, so let’s get that out of the way now.”

I smirk. Dia’s experience with real battle shows itself in other ways. From what little she’s had a chance to tell me, she has a long history of combat while I’ve been stuck here at school fighting for my most basic freedom of deciding how I want to live.

“Now now, we’ll get there,” Brigid says. “No rush.”

Dia shakes her head. “There sort of is.” She furrows her brows. “Might be my last few days of peace before I need to wage a one-woman war against the Fomorians if you all try to kill me.”

“You wouldn’t be just one woman,” I remind her.

She smiles at me. “A two-woman war.”

This takes Brigid by surprise, she’s silent for a moment, which is rare, she’s never rendered speechless. “You are very bold. You speak like you’d win.” She furrows her brows. “Perhaps you would, after what I saw. The way you piloted was remarkable, even by our standards.” She looks at me. “I wouldn’t have thought you could be beaten in a one-on-one, and especially not like that.” She taps her chin in thought. “You’d fight your father and the houses to be with her, I take it?”

“I told her to bear her all to me in that duel and she did,” I reply calmly. I’m not sure if she’s trying to bait me or not; with Brigid it’s difficult to ever know what she’s thinking. “I needed to see what she was capable of.” I reach over towards Dia, boldly taking her hand into mine. It’s a display of affection I’d normally reserve for a private moment, which I know Brigid knows. “I feel very confident naming her my champion. She has my full support. Her enemies are mine. My enemies are hers.”

Dia squeezes my hand. “Thanks,” she says, smirking. “So again, I ask, what do you want, Brigid?”

She looks at us for a moment, her face looking quite serious, or at least more serious than I am used to seeing. “I want this Empire. The whole thing. I want to rule.”

“No,” Dia says flatly. “There’s not going to be an empire when I’m done with this place.”

“You’re not serious,” Brigid replies. “Explain.”

“I meant exactly what I said.” Her tone is firm. She casts a glance at me, pulling her hand away. She shifts in her seat, sitting upright. She stares hard at Brigid, her eyes like swords. “I didn’t come here to play politics or games. I came here to destroy the whole thing, and frankly I can… with the right kind of help.”

The lady of House Áine looks perturbed, confused, and even outraged. “You’re insane.” Her flamboyant pretense is gone entirely now. “And I should have you killed. Destroy the Fomorian Armory? Do you have some kind of death wish?”

Dia chuckles. “Why do you even want this rotten corpse?” She stands up to her full height, towering over us both.

Gods she is tall.

“Think you can run it your way, maybe obtain some semblance of control? Perhaps you want to fix a few things even?” Her tone is cold and biting, harsher than she’s ever been with me. “Or perhaps you’re worse and just want power at any cost?”

There’s a threat in her question that sends a chill down my spine. Brigid can sense it too; I can see it in her eyes. She crosses her arms in front of her chest, sitting up.

“It’s just foolish, what would you replace it with? Would Central come in and sweep up the mess you make of things?” She shakes her head. “The people wouldn’t stand for that. They would see it as an occupation and resist. It would be generations of conflict.”

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told her.” Dia glances over at me. “There already is conflict. People are already dying. More than you and I can count. I’m not so reckless though as to do what you suggest. I came here to explore options, formulate a plan, and gather allies. So, what are you going to be, ally or enemy?”

Her eyes narrow. “You really are insane.” Her lips draw back in a smile. “But I think I like your kind of insanity. I had expected you to be far more emotionally driven, and I underestimated what you were really after.” She looks at me. “I have to assume this was part of the stakes agreed upon prior to the duel, but why did you accept them to begin with? Are you not afraid she’s using you?”

I smile, shaking my head. “She wanted to break my cage.” My heart races, recalling her words and our kiss. “If anything, I’m using her. She is my champion, after all.”

Dia looks over at me, her cheeks tinted slightly red. I smirk at her, fluttering my eyelashes. She chuckles low in her chest, shaking her head.

“I sure am.”

Brigid laughs, for once sounding genuinely pleased. “You sure are something, Miss Mirren. I’ll consider the things you’ve said. Turning you over to the emperor doesn’t benefit me, and I get the impression trying to blackmail you or otherwise force you to do anything wouldn’t work anyway.” She sighs. “I don’t want to be your enemy.”

Dia flashes her a wolfish smirk. “I was thinking the same thing. I have a very specific goal. There are multiple paths to reach it. So long as I stay on that path, I don’t have complaints. If there’s nothing else, I have moving-in to do.” She turns back to me, winking.

I flush, averting my gaze. “Yes,” I say. “Thank you, Brigid. I wouldn’t have expected your intervention at all.” I stand up then, looking at her. “It’s a shame we’ve mostly avoided one another before this series of events. I’d like to think we could perhaps be friends.” I extend a hand towards her.

She hesitates, glances between Dia and me and then finally stands up to take my hand in hers. “You’ve changed, Your Highness.” She tilts her head. “I’m not sure what to think about this. However, I can assure you that House Áine will protect you and your champion for the time being.”

I glance at Dia, her cheeks are red again, though she looks pleased. I smile, despite myself. I take my hand back, stepping towards her and linking our arms together. Her flush deepens, which amuses me greatly. I’m glad I’m not the only one who becomes a bit of a mess in this situation of ours.

“Let’s go, my love,” I say. “We have a long rest of the day ahead of us, and I am going to enjoy every moment of peace we have left to the absolute fullest.”

---

“This room is a lot bigger than mine,” I say, setting a box of my things down. I don’t have a lot to move in to Gráinne’s room, but it’s still somehow more than I initially thought. “Suppose it’s nice to be the princess.”

She sticks her tongue out at me. “You don’t have to rub it in.” She starts taking some of my clothes out from a box, walking them over to the whole separate bedroom in the dorm. “Well, I guess if you really want to, it’s not like you’re wrong.” She sighs.

“Sorry,” I say gently. I join her in the room, bringing along a box of knickknacks. “It’s more that I’m really giving it a look. You have a full kitchen, and an extra room.”

“A nice bathtub, too,” she says, looking over at me, winking. “This is fun. Thank you.”

“For what, moving-in?” I chuckle. “Did you think I’d not want to?”

She frowns. “I don’t know. I sort of just demanded it earlier. Everything is moving too fast while also being too slow.” Gráinne brushes her hair behind her ear. “Hmmm, you have really good fashion sense.” She holds up a black dress of mine, along with my frilly pajamas. “After seeing you in that jacket, it’s difficult to imagine you in these.”

“I look good in anything.” I smirk. “And I like to play around with styles. Sometimes I really feel something masculine, so I put on a three-piece suit, or I feel very girly and wear that dress you’re holding. Sometimes it’s a blend… usually a blend, like the jacket and pants.”

“Well, you looked so stunning you took my breath away in your uniform,” she says, smiling broadly. “I’ve always thought women were beautiful but with you it’s like staring at art.”

I giggle, my face turning red, and a smirk forms on my face. “You’re getting much better at this.”

“At what?” she blinks. “What am I getting better at?”

“Flirting.”

She turns a deep shade of crimson. “Am I flirting? I’m just telling you what I think.”

“You’re cute.” I put down the last of my knickknacks, a mech figurine I built and painted ages ago as a kid, on the shelf. “The fact that you’re not flirting makes you all the cuter.”

“Well, we’re engaged,” she says sheepishly. “And I want to tell you all the things I think and feel about you. I’ve put my actual life in your hands after all, so it’s nothing to tell you all the things I love about you, from your charm to your looks.”

“Do you love me?” I ask, lifting a brow, leaning back on the dresser.

She stammers for a moment, her face becoming even more red now than before. “I–” she pauses. “Yes. Yes, I think so. I don’t have much frame of reference for what that feels like. But I know I love being around you. You make me feel safe. I love listening to you talk about Central and Earth, and the way your mind works in general even when you frustrate me with it.” She runs her fingers through her hair, pushing her raven locks back, looking up at me. “I love the way you play with the bit of hair that hangs in front of your face. The way you eat your food with delicate precision. The way you laugh at me and call me cute.” She keeps her gaze locked with mine, her face beginning to go back to normal. “You excite me but are also comfortable. If that is not love, then I know not what is.” She takes a deep breath. “I love you.”

My heart quickens as I drink in her words, her raw depth of feeling. “I’m glad you feel those things,” I say softly. “I wasn’t sure you would be able to after I kept things from you. I–”

“Only say it if you mean it,” she says, cutting me off. She turns her back to me, taking in a shaky breath. “Don’t you dare say it to me if it’s not the absolute truth. I couldn’t bear it, Dia. I just couldn’t.”

I walk over to her, wrapping my arms around her waist. On instinct I go to kiss her neck. She tilts her head to the side, and I run my fangs across her skin. She shudders in my arms, leaning back into my chest.

“I only ever say and do what I want to say and do. So, when I tell you that I fell in love with you that night in the garden, and decided to destroy the cage surrounding you, I mean it. I had my reasons for coming here in the first place, but…” I squeeze her tightly in my arms, kissing the top of her head. “When you said you just wanted to live., that was the moment when I decided I was willing to do anything to make sure you could. To keep you smiling. I love you.”

She turns around, pushing me back onto the bed roughly. Gráinne practically leaps on top of me, kissing me and clutching her fingers into my uniform with desperate fervor.

“No one can interrupt us now,” she whispers in my ear. “Can we finish what we started in the garden?”

I roll us over, locking our lips again. “Yes,” I hiss, beginning to take off her clothes. I fumble with the buttons for a moment before just ripping the front of her uniform open completely.

She gasps as I devour her neck, sinking my fangs into her, and dragging my nails along her exposed sides. Gráinne grips my hair, pulling me tight against her body, her legs wrapping around my waist. I pull off the rest of her top, tossing it to the side. I kiss down her chest, taking her breast into my mouth. She cries out, her fingers tugging at my hair.

“Oh gods,” she whimpers.

Taking off her pants is easier; they slide easily down her hips along with her panties. My fingers brush along her inner thighs, avoiding her most sensitive spots quite on purpose. She only groans more, her hips lifting off the bed. I bite at her lower lip.

“Patience,” I whisper in her ear. “Patience, and I will make you feel such ecstasy that for the briefest of moments, you’ll die right here in my arms. But I’ll bring you back with a kiss.”

She squirms under me, managing to nod and release a breathy moan. “Do whatever you want to me, Dia.”

I grin. “As you wish.” I kiss down her chest and stomach, licking at the taut skin above her well-muscled frame.

Seeing her without clothes explains much of her incredible strength. There’s not an inch of her that isn’t built for combat. In this, she is just like me. A living weapon both in and out of our mechs. I worship her body, this beautiful, deadly woman. My tongue drags along her skin, tasting every inch of her. I fight back the urge to sink my fangs into her flesh, desiring to rip her apart utterly, to spill her open to drink and consume.

She pants and groans and whimpers, her voice quivering out a shaky, “Dia.”

I bite into her thigh, not too hard, but hard enough.

“Yesss,” she hisses. “Harder.”

I do, sinking my teeth and fangs into her thigh. The skin breaks, droplets of blood touch my tongue. I lick them up until nothing more flows. Gráinne’s whole body locks up as she lets out a scream of pleasure, her first orgasm. I pull away from her thigh only to wrap my lips around her clit, running my tongue along it. She only screams more, digging her fingers into the bed so roughly her knuckles must be bone white. I drown in the taste of her, drinking each sweet drop of her arousal like she’s the water of life.

Her thighs squeeze around my head as she cums again. Her back arches, her entire body spasming with pleasure. I lick, and lick, and lick, unrelenting in my assault on her cunt. She taps my shoulder, unable to form coherent words. I stop, licking my lips and looking up at her. She’s a ruined mess on the bed, panting, clutching her head with her hand. Her whole body is flushed, delightfully tinted red and glistening in orgasmic bliss.

“Gods, Dia,” she says after gathering a little composure. “Gods I’ve never felt so good in all my life.”

I grin, flashing my fangs at her. “Would you like me to be inside you?”

She lifts her head, looking me in the eye. “Yes. I want nothing more.”

I stand up, quickly taking off this annoying uniform. She watches me, rubbing her legs together and biting her lip. Before I can take my pants off, she sits up, putting a hand on my breast.

“Wait,” she says softly, wrapping her lips around my nipple and her arms around my waist.

She suckles on me, her nails digging into my back, raking down my skin. I let out a feral groan, my knees going weak. She moves to my other breast, taking me in her mouth, her touches needy and desperate. I can’t help but moan. Her teeth dig into me, a sharp pang of pleasurable pain shooting through me. She throws me onto the bed, crawling on top of me.

“Gods, I love your body. Your tattoos, too.” She smiles, running her fingers along the designs. “I was so curious about them on our date. They’re everywhere.”

“I like ink,” I say, a smirk on my face. “My body has always felt like a canvas for me to do as I please. There isn’t a single thing about me that isn’t of my choosing.”

“Mmm,” she says, licking up my stomach and sides. “Then I should take my time to enjoy you. As much as I want you inside me. Gods, you have no idea how badly I want that.” She kisses down my stomach, her hands hooking into my pants. “But first I need to carve every inch of your body into my mind. I want to recognize you in the dark by touch alone.”

She pulls down my pants, my cock giving a little twitch when it’s no longer covered. Gráinne grins down at me, licking her lips. I can’t help blushing a little, I spread my legs to show myself off.

“You’re perfect,” she growls. “I don’t know what I’m doing, but gods am I going to show you just how much I love everything about you.”

She licks along the shaft, taking the head of my cock into her mouth. I let out a breathy moan, my hips arching up. The sounds I make encourage her to keep exploring, her hands touching my thighs, and squeezing my hips. It’s as if she wants to be everywhere, all at once, and it drives me wild. Her licks become bolder as her confidence grows. Her hands squeeze my breasts and pinch at my nipples. I’m a mess on the bed, writhing against the sheets.

“Just like that,” I manage to say. I run my fingers through her silky hair and across her face.

Gráinne moans on my cock as she licks and sucks, looking up into my eyes with a mischievous glint in her expression. “It’s nice to see you like this,” she says, her voice low. She gets up and crawls back over me. “Nice to see you at my mercy for once. You always manage to unnerve me, and I like that I can do the same.” She kisses my neck, biting me gently.

“I’m just taking it easy on you because it’s your first time,” I tell her, tilting my head to the side. “I’m considerate.”

She giggles, beginning to grind her hips on me. She slides her slick pussy against my cock, back and forth, causing us both to let out whimpering groans. “Don’t hold back,” she says in my ear. “I still want you to bear your all to me. I always want that.”

A rush and a thrill course through me. I grab her shoulders, turning us over so that I’m on top of her. I press our lips together, sliding my body up and down against hers, our breasts squishing against the other. She lets out a groan as my cock presses against her clit.

“As you wish,” I tell her, angling my hips so that I begin sliding into her. She’s wet and relaxed, taking me inside of her easier than I expected. Still, I go slow until I am fully inside. I bite at her neck, my fangs brushing against her pulsing carotid.

She wraps her legs around my hips, holding me inside of her. She arches her back, letting out a long moan of pleasure. “Yes. Gods yes.”

I growl, slamming my hips against her as hard as I can. The room fills with the sound of our flesh smacking together and our gasping moans. She cries out, her nails digging in my back so hard it draws blood. I pound her harder, and harder, and harder, holding her tight in my arms. The bed rocks back and forth, the wooden frame groaning under the weight of my thrusts.

“Harder!” She bites into my shoulder, her teeth sinking into my flesh to keep from screaming.

I grunt in pain, and in pleasure. I thrust harder, deeper, driving my cock into her relentlessly. The bed rocks and creeks, the foundation groaning. The frame’s legs break under us, the bed landing on the floor with a loud thump. Neither of us pay any mind, too in the moment of our blissful release.

“Inside,” she whispers, wrapping her legs tightly around me. “Please finish inside.”

The softness of the request is more than I can bear. I hold her tight as I cum, the orgasm ripping through me. My toes curl, my breath is stolen from my lungs, and my mind crumbles completely. It goes on for several long, perfect moments, waves of pleasure coursing through my entire body. I rest my forehead against Gráinne’s, my cock trembling gently inside her.

“Sorry about the bed,” I say, chuckling.

She giggles, brushing her fingers through my hair. “I’ll just get a new bed. That was perfect for my first time. Better than our duel even.”

I furrow my brows. “Well, I should hope so. This time we both won.” I kiss her, gently nibbling on her lips. “I’m surprised how rough you wanted me to be.”

“Mmm,” she groans. “I don’t know what to say. I’m just an all or nothing kind of princess.”

“You’re my princess now,” I tell her, peppering her neck with affectionate kisses.

“Promise?”

“Forever.”

---

I float gently in the air, waiting in the hangar for my mother’s ship to arrive. It’s due in the next few moments, and as much as I dread seeing her, I’d rather be here to greet her directly. The week has passed by in a blur of classes, spending time with friends and having lots and lots of sex. Between Dia and I, I honestly cannot tell who is the hungrier one. It’s been a joyful calm before the storm.

The only interruption has been the few duels she’s been challenged to. As champion, she is required to accept challenges, even with the impending tournament in two weeks. After the most recent one this morning, I’ve used my authority to put a stop to the dueling completely. I am tired of being bound by these inane traditions. From now on, no matter the cost, I will walk my own path on my own terms.

Mother’s ship docks smoothly, the clamps fastening themselves to the hull. The boarding ramp stretches out as the hatch opens. Unlike me, who arrived here quietly, Mother is all fanfare. Several servants step out of the ship, rolling out a literal carpet for her to walk on. Aoife appears, checking the hangar for threats. She smiles at me when our eyes meet. She steps forward, stopping at the end of the ramp. Mother is just behind her, her chin held up high as she walks. As usual, her icy expression is impossible to read.

She stops in front of me. Mother is slightly shorter than I am, but her presence is enough to fill the room. Though today, she does not quite feel so larger-than-life; even in all her finery, her black hair done up elegantly with a jeweled crown laced through the strands, she seems small to me.

“Where is your guard?” she asks sharply.

“He’s been dismissed and sent back to the capital,” I tell her. “I hated his presence.”

“Gráinne,” she says, her voice almost a hiss. She sighs. “Let’s go to your garden. I do not wish to speak here.”

“Very well.” I hold out my arm to link with hers.

She takes the offered arm and we walk out of the hangar, the gravity slowly becoming normal. The trip is one filled with an awkward, deafening silence. Normally mother is not quite so cold with me, but understandably she is upset by recent events. I find myself not caring at all. I thought I’d be more nervous to face her, but seeing her here and now, I can’t help but feel determination to help her be free. The way I now feel free. I wonder if this is how Dia saw me.

Royal guards trail behind us, a respectful distance away. Eyes from the students are drawn to us. All eyes as a matter of fact. Layla and Quinn are on the grounds. They see me but shrink back. I wave them over to us. They exchange nervous glances, as is their wont, and then approach us. Mother blinks in surprise.

“Who are they?” she asks, her tone genuinely curious.

“Friends of mine. This is Layla and Quinn,” I say, pointing at each of them respectively. “They are here on scholarship. Truly brilliant engineers. The top of their class.”

“I see,” mother says, her smile warm. “You do your empire proud, young ladies. Your empress wishes you the best in your studies.”

They beam brightly at her. “Thank you!” Layla says. “We’ll always do our best. It’s um–well it’s really nice to meet you.”

Mother chuckles, a very rare sound coming from her. “The pleasure is mine. If you’ll excuse us, however. I have precious little time and much to do.”

The nod, stepping out of the way. I flash them both a warm smile before walking. As we arrive in the garden, I look back towards the guards. “They must stay outside,” I say firmly. “You and Aoife can join me here, but I’ll not have them in my sanctum.”

“Of course,” mother says.

I step beyond the arch that leads into my garden, making my way to a bench so that I may sit. Mother joins me, gathering up the train of her dress before sitting. Aoife stands off to the side, watching us curiously.

“What a fine mess you’ve made, my darling.” Mother warps an arm around me, pulling me into a hug. “Your father is furious, and we’re almost at war with House Áine.”

“I’m aware.” I lean into the hug. “It’s not my fault things are the way they are.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, pulling away. “Gráinne, this is entirely your fault. I want to know why.”

“It’s not.” I move slightly away so that I might face her. “I am not the one who made our laws or traditions. I am not the one who forced their daughter into a position she begged and pleaded not to be in to begin with. The only blame that lies with me is that I took steps to obtain power. Steps father was all too happy to indulge, for it benefited him and our house that I be in a cockpit. That I could humiliate his enemies.” I shake my head. “No, mother, none of this is my fault.”

She looks at me, stunned, her mouth agape. Her eyes flit over to Aoife. They exchange a furtive glance with one another. Aoife looks troubled but nods. It’s not a good look.

“Mother, what are you scheming?” I ask, looking between the two of them.

“Your fiancée,” she says. “She is from central?”

“What does that matter?” I ask, my voice cold.

She sighs. “I wish to know more about the woman who has made my daughter so incredibly reckless. Is that forbidden?”

I glance away, chewing on my inner cheek. “No,” I say. “I had considered her being here when we met, but I did not want to overwhelm you. Besides, she had a duel today.”

“I saw,” she says. “One she won with no trouble, I noticed. I will admit, she is an incredible pilot. I am not sure even our elite would be able to fight her in a duel like the ones done here. It’s unfair really.”

My brows furrow. “What’s your point, mother?”

“That when she’s piloting, it might take a small army to kill her,” she says, her voice cold and sharp.

I stand up. “If you are suggesting what I think–”

“She is,” Dia says, slinking into the garden. Her uniform is torn and blood is leaking from a cut over her eye.

Mother’s eyes go wide but she recovers her composure quickly, snaping her fingers. Aoife on command pulls a knife from her sleeve, rushing at Dia and slashing at her with it. My fiancée slips one, two, three slashes before pivoting on her heel and sweeping Aoife’s legs out from under her. Mother shouts for Aoife to kill Dia. The royal guards standing outside rush into the garden, their heavy boots trampling over my flowers.

Aoife is well trained, perhaps the best, but even so she’s no match. She’s disarmed, the knife clattering to the ground. Dia kicks it over to me. Without hesitating, I pick it up and grab at my mother, pressing the edge of the knife into her neck.

“Enough!” Near uncontrollable fury courses through me. How dare she do this, and here. “I will kill her if you do not stop.”

The guards freeze. Dia’s knee is pressed into Aoife’s back, pinning her to the ground. My mother, my dear mother’s face is contorted in fury and confusion.

“Gráinne–”

“Silence,” I say, pressing the knife into her neck. “How dare you. Get out of my garden.” I glare at the guards.

Mother waves them away, fear in her eyes. Uneasily they comply, filing out of my sanctuary. Rage boils in my blood, but I manage to keep myself under control, but only just.

“My love, please get off my handmaiden,” I say coldly.

She does so, standing up and brushing herself off.

I remove the knife from my mother’s throat, taking a step back to get a better look at Dia. “Where is the one who did that to you?” I motion to her eye.

“Knocked out,” Dia says. “She’ll wake up with a wicked headache but she’s fine.”

Mother pales considerably. “I don’t believe this,” she says, shrinking back until she nearly stumbles over the bench. She sits down, trying to regain her composure. “You are much harder to kill than I thought. That was my second-best assassin.” She glances at Aoife. “Not that my best did any better.”

“You’re not the first one to make that mistake,” Dia says, leaning against a tree. “You’re lucky Gráinne made you send the guards away. It would’ve been a bloodbath.” She folds her arms over her chest. “If you remotely value their lives, keep them out. I will kill them all if I have to.”

“What even are you?”

“Your future daughter-in-law.” She grins.