CHAPTER FORTY: BLOOD MOON

Meanwhile, in the Audience Chamber of Aquarius Castle, King Lewis XII sat upon his throne surrounded by tight security.

The chamber remained in disarray. He had not even bothered to order the bloodstains scrubbed from the carpet. Broken glass still glittered faintly near the high windows, and one side of the hall bore the blackened scars of recent destruction. It was no longer a royal chamber in spirit, but a place hollowed out by fear.

Dark rings hung beneath the King’s eyes. His gaze never strayed far from the great entrance doors, as though he expected someone to burst through them at any moment.

Tonight.

The Night of the Blood Moon.

The last threatening letter from the man who called himself H had made one thing painfully clear. Medea, his beloved daughter, would be killed, and her body would be displayed in the garden in a pool of her own blood for him to see.

The mere thought made his whole body tremble.

If he lost his only daughter, it would be the end of him.

How had things come to this? Why had he done such foolish things in the past? If he had known they would return to haunt him like this, he would never have agreed to them, no matter how desperate he had once been, no matter how badly his kingdom had been struggling.

Karma, he thought bitterly, was a cruel bitch.

From the corner of his eye, he looked towards the old grandfather clock just as it struck seven.

Dusk had settled.

His fingers tapped restlessly against the arms of the throne. H had never stated when the murder would happen, nor how. Only that Medea’s body would appear in the garden.

Seconds dragged into minutes.

His green-grey eyes darted from one shadow to another. Even the guards stationed around him looked strained. Some shifted their footing too often. Others tightened their grip on their weapons whenever the curtains stirred in the evening draught. A chill of dread crept through the chamber and down every spine.

Lewis swallowed hard.

He imagined footsteps where there were none. Movement where there was only darkness. At one point, he thought he heard laughter from somewhere above, low and mocking, only to realise it was the groan of the rafters in the wind.

Then, without warning, a deafening crash came from above.

Something smashed through the windows and landed in the centre of the hall. Glass shattered across the floor, followed by thick black smoke pouring into the room.

Lewis shot to his feet, terror flooding his face. Before he could utter a single word, the guards shoved him backwards towards the far end of the chamber for safety.

Then came the sound.

A faint tick, tick, tick.

And in the next instant, half the chamber erupted in a blinding burst of white light.

The world vanished into noise, smoke, and heat.

The last thing King Lewis remembered before his head struck the floor was the silhouette of a girl standing in the smoke.

A pair of blue eyes stared back at him in shock.

Then everything went black.

***

Medea did not know how long she had stood at the doorway, frozen in place, even after the smoke had begun to clear. She had slipped into the castle disguised as one of the knights and gone straight to the Audience Chamber because she knew her father would be there.

But the moment she had entered and closed the door behind her, something had crashed down right in front of her.

It was a body.

A knight from the castle gates.

For one terrible second Medea forgot how to breathe. Her heart slammed against her ribs so hard it hurt. The smell of smoke and scorched fabric filled her lungs. The ringing in her ears was so sharp it drowned out everything else.

Then, as though someone had thrown cold water over her, she blinked hard and forced herself back into motion.

“Father!”

Medea ran through the rubble towards him. Halfway there, she stopped dead as one of the great chandeliers tore free from the ceiling and crashed to the floor, crushing several soldiers beneath it. Shouts erupted from the far side of the chamber.

She pressed on again, as carefully as she could, until she saw a circle of knights surrounding her father.

“Father!”

Medea rushed to his side, ignoring the stunned looks thrown her way.

“Y-Your Royal Highness!? What are you doing here!”

“Get my father out of here,” Medea ordered. “Now!”

Still too shocked to question her further, the knights obeyed at once. They lifted the unconscious king and carried him from the chamber while Medea followed close behind.

By the time they reached the King’s private chamber, a physician was already waiting with assistants and fresh bandages in hand.

As Medea tried to enter after them, two knights stepped in front of her.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Forgive us, Your Highness. We are under direct orders from Commandant Ratz not to let you in.”

“You’re insane. My father needs me.”

“Then forgive me for asking them to refuse you, Your Royal Highness.”

A rough male voice came from behind her.

“Perhaps you would be so kind as to explain where in Fulaina you have been, Princess?”

Commandant Ratz of the West-side Brigade.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and tanned, with the harsh bearing of a man who had never once mistaken cruelty for strength. He was the same age and rank as Ren, but where Ren was strict yet fair, Ratz was hard, brash, and utterly uncompromising.

Only the weak lose. The strong survive.

That motto had earned his brigade second place in the army’s ranks and had earned him Medea’s enduring dislike. She had never cared for Ratz or his men. They were arrogant, overbearing, and far too pleased with their own brutality. One of the maids had once whispered that Ratz intended to ask the King for her hand in marriage.

At the moment, however, he looked far from his usual intimidating self. He looked exhausted. His face was grimy, his hair greasy, and deep fatigue clung to him like a second skin. His temper, if anything, seemed to be the only thing still keeping him upright.

Medea straightened her shoulders.

“Commandant Ratz.”

He approached her in an intimidating stride.

“Do you have any idea what kind of hell you’ve put us through? We all believed you’d been taken by the Huzzar, just as the rumours claimed.”

“And you of all people believed such rumours?”

“You vanished for three months. What else were we meant to believe?” His jaw tightened, before he exhaled heavily. “In any case, you have no right to speak to me in that tone after what you’ve put everyone else through.”

Medea narrowed her eyes. But she spoke the next words with her chest.

“You are correct. I do not have the luxury of speaking lightly of what has happened. Nevertheless, I am still your Crown Princess and the future Queen of this kingdom. Do not address me so lightly as though I am one of your subordinates.”

Medea turned, intending to walk away.

Ratz sighed and dragged a hand down his face.

“Your Highness, wait…”

“Commandant Ratz!”

A knight came hurrying down the corridor, panting hard.

“What is it?” Ratz snapped.

The knight saluted hastily, then froze when he saw Medea.

“Y-Your Highness? But… how?”

“Martin,” Ratz hissed.

The knight saluted again.

“T-The Huzzar! It has been spotted, Sir! The myth… it was true!”

“What?!” Medea and Ratz exclaimed at once.

“One of our men saw a large figure flying above the clouds. It is heading south.”

“The Southern Forest,” Ratz said grimly. “Old legends have spoken of how the Huzzar made its lair there. It is where everyone believed you were being held captive, Princess.”

Medea lifted both hands to her mouth, her thoughts racing at once to her new friend and cousin.

So the legend was true after all.

That meant Mika was in danger.

“Commandant Ratz,” she said sharply, “do you have men stationed near the Southern Forest?”

Ratz frowned at her.

“Yes. At least three hundred men. We were not certain if the Huzzar was real, but I stationed them there regardless. For all I know, it could still be some elaborate trap designed to throw this kingdom into chaos.”

“Good. Then I need to borrow all of them.”

“What? Absolutely not,” Ratz said at once. “The Southern Forest is dangerous. I will not risk losing our one and only Princess again.”

He turned to the knight.

“Martin, tell the men in the forest to reduce their number to one hundred. The rest are to return to the castle immediately. Inform them the Princess has been found and that she is safe.”

“No!” Medea protested.

“Go, Martin.”

The knight looked helplessly between them, then saluted and hurried away.

The moment he was gone, Ratz let out a long, tired sigh.

“Princess, I do not know what happened to you or where you have been, but the fact that you are standing here in one piece is more than I ever hoped for. I will not hand you over to death because some bastard thinks it amusing to terrorise this kingdom.”

“The Huzzar is real,” Medea said firmly. “It is an ancient Dragoon from the Spirit World. Surely word has already spread of the Spirit Princess’s sudden arrival. This is no mere rumour, nor some frightened tale whispered in the dark.”

Ratz stared at her. His arms remained folded across his chest.

“If that is true, then humans do not stand a chance against it.”

“Exactly. If you send your men after it, they will die. According to the legends, the Huzzar can only be defeated by the blood of the Royal Spirits.”

“Even if what you are saying is true, what alternatives do we have? We do not keep a Spirit in the castle for such emergencies.”

“The Spirit Princess.” Medea held his gaze. “Commandant Ren has taken her under his protection. Together, we devised a plan for her to confront the Huzzar. In exchange, her companions are to be left unharmed.”

Ratz exhaled slowly.

“Princess Medea…”

“Ratz, please,” Medea pressed. “Princess Mika is in the Southern Forest at this very moment, taking my place as the sacrificial bride. If she dies, do you wish to see this kingdom fall into ruin as Luyas nearly did?”

For the first time, genuine conflict flickered across his face.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked at last. “My hands are already full.”

“Lend me your men long enough to get my message across to Ren and Mika. Then have them withdraw from the Southern Forest. That place is about to become a battlefield. I also want you to grant Princess Mika’s companions full access to the castle while they search for whatever Master Oracle Fye sent them here to find.”

“Your Highness…”

“If you do all this for me…” Medea paused. “I will seriously consider your marriage proposal.”

Ratz went utterly still.

His eyes widened so dramatically that any traces of exhaustion vanished from his face. He even took a stunned step backwards.

The rumours had always been secret, of course. Only the King and perhaps that infuriating Ren knew the truth. Ratz had fallen in love with Medea years ago, when he first truly saw her not merely as a royal figure, but as Medea herself. Even so, he had always believed he stood no chance.

After all, he came from a poor merchant family. Medea was the Crown Princess.

Still, he had waited. Trained. Endured. Fought his way up the ranks until he earned command of his own brigade, all in the foolish, impossible hope that one day he might stand before her as something more than a common-born soldier.

Now, standing before Medea, he could barely manage a coherent breath.

“Do you mean it?” he asked quietly.

Medea met his eyes.

He was blushing.

To break the thickening silence, she cleared her throat.

“Yes. I shall consider it. If you do as I ask.”

Ratz let out a long, shaken breath and took both of her hands in his, pressing them briefly to his chest.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

A moment later he released her and stepped back, the stern Commandant’s mask slipping back into place.

“Very well. It shall be arranged. Is there anything else?”

The speed of his recovery nearly caught Medea off guard, but she straightened herself just as quickly.

“No. That will be all for now. I shall inform you if I require anything further.”

With a final salute, Ratz turned and strode away towards the stairwell where two of his men were already waiting for him. Before disappearing, he glanced back once and offered her the briefest of smiles.

When he was gone, Medea exhaled heavily and pressed a hand to her chest.

Her heart was pounding.

Things had not gone according to plan, but at least she had secured an ally. With any luck, it would be enough to make things easier for Princess Mika.

Then her thoughts drifted to her father’s chamber.

Medea turned her head towards the closed door.

“I’m sorry, Father,” she whispered. “I know you need me. But right now, someone else needs me more.”

Taking a breath to steady herself, she turned and hurried down the stairs after Ratz and his men.