Chapter 1

I woke up just as the bullet struck Alexander. Time seemed to stretch out, just like the day it happened. His hand clutched his chest where the royal soldier had hit him, and his revolver fell to the ground. Even now, such a long time after, I still believed I could stop it. I ran through the trench, but the chance slipped through my fingers and into a past I could not change.

I bolted upright on the hard bed, and the image of his lifeless body sinking to the ground faded with the dissolving dream. All that was left was the dark room and my hitched breath ringing in my ears. I could hear the laughter of late roisterers passing by on the street below, and the gas lamps cast a thin stream of light through the curtains.

I wish I could say how long I sat there, the cold sweat drying on my skin as my breathing slowly calmed, but I never could. Those dreams held me in their grip until my mind had found its way back to the real world. After a while, I pulled the thin blanket aside and stepped out of the bed. The worn planks felt cold against my feet, but it must have been an illusion because I knew the summer’s heat was still vivid outside.

I found my uniform hanging on the door where I’d left it. I put it on and then fastened the sabre to my waist. I didn’t need to; the blade had become obsolete during the war, but old habits die hard, and presenting myself as anything other than a full member of the army made me feel naked.

I left my allotted quarters and made my way down the stairs. In the doorway, I stopped, peeking out on the cobbled street. It was empty, and I turned the handle, making sure the door didn’t creak as I opened it. As I stepped out, I heard a drunken murmur further down the street, but it disappeared around the corner, and I was left alone.

I stared down the empty street before forcing myself to start walking. I knew I had to put enough distance between me and those dreams, and the fresh air and brisk walk were the only remedies I’d found.

How many years had I spent in this city? Most of the weekends of my childhood, visiting my widowed aunt. The late parts of my teens when the military academy became my home. Then, only occasionally, as the revolution took its first steps, and now, this last year, as an Envoy of the Ministry of Reconstruction. I knew every corner of it, even the slums where most of our former aristocrats would never go. It was Alexander who had taken me there. I pushed away the memory of him bantering with a commoner and kept walking.

Each period had taken on a different meaning, each episode holding a different memory for me. The excitement of seeing my aunt; the weight on my shoulders as I began my military career; the vertigo of knowing we would change this world, and now… What memories would this time in my life hold? We’d succeeded. Alexander’s vision had come to pass, and we had become a republic. It was still fragile, but to have thought that the monarchy would fall and the societal classes be obliterated was more than I could ever have hoped for.

A late worker finishing his shift suddenly stepped out from a gate, and when he saw me, he halted. I had grown used to it, but it didn’t mean I rejoiced in their attention. He stared at me for a moment, then hesitated before rushing forward to take my hands.

“I thank you. May your family live in freedom."

He squeezed my hands in his, refusing to let go as tears welled up in his eyes. I knew I couldn’t let go, despite wanting to continue somewhere where the memories of the past would not be brought up. I tried to smile.

“And so may the monarchy fall."

“...and so may the monarchy fall”, he whispered.

He finally let go, and I nodded before continuing down the street.

My feet took me to the harbour. I should have expected it. The sea did something to me, seeing its vast surface stretching out for as far as the eye could see. When I enrolled in the military academy, I had considered joining the Navy. My father would have approved of it. But that was before I met Alexander. I shook my head. I wished there were places that would not remind me of him. But even the smallest thing, seeing a leaf blowing in the wind or the flowers in a meadow, would bring memories of our time together.

I let my eyes drift across the dark surface. I saw ships moored in the harbour, and I could hear a drunken row from one of them. He always said that when the republic had won, he would settle down with Aina and me. What life could we have had had we been allowed to stay together? I tried to push the thought away, but the memories wouldn’t be allowed to be held down, and hope slipped through every crack it could. We got those years together, and I still wish with all my heart they had extended far into old age.

A shout and the splash of water brought me back to the dark harbour. I turned to the sound but couldn’t make out what had fallen into the sea. I forced myself to keep walking. He wouldn’t have wanted it any other way; he died for what he believed in.

I turned and found myself taking the streets leading back to my quarters. This time, I met no late worker who would praise me for our deeds.

It was still dark as I made my way into my apartment. I lit a candle as I stepped inside, took the briefcase leaning against the wall and sat down at the table. There would be no more sleep this night, and so I would use the time to prepare for our meeting tomorrow. The Prime Minister wanted the latest information, and I needed to prepare what I had gathered from my latest travels.

When the first light rose on the horizon, I stood up and gathered the documents. It was time.