Chapter 2

The summer’s heat was already hanging as a promise in the early morning air as I stepped out, just like on those last days before we had left for the borders. Retaking the capital had become the last victory, the final triumph before the end. I didn’t think Alexander would have changed anything even if he had known.

Even this early, the streets were already filling up with merchants pulling their carts to the market and workers on their way to their morning shift. They were too busy to take notice of me this time, and no one stopped me as I began walking down the street.

The war seemed so far away here in the capital, and I imagined that if you closed your eyes, you could almost forget it had ever happened. For the most part, it had never touched it, and only a few buildings had been laid to ruin during the siege. Maybe it was knowing what would come that had turned the streets into memories. Each one reminded me of Alexander, and on every corner, I thought I could see Aina.

She had walked next to me on that last evening, so close I could almost feel her hand against mine. I knew I should not dwell on what had happened to her, but the mind had a way of its own, and it refused to obey commands. Her image still lingered before me on those mornings when Alexander had not filled my dreams.

She’d knelt next to Alexander’s lifeless body by the time I got to him. We must have cried, but I could no longer remember. I only remember our hands frantically shaking him, even though I already knew it was too late. The mind had a curious way of finding its grip, and I can only assume that’s what it did in that moment. I’d stood up and drawn my sword, commanding our men to charge. I had lost sight of her in the ensuing tumult, and when it was all over, I could no longer find her.

Sometimes, I thought I could still feel her hand in mine or her warm body against me as I lay in bed. Those cold nights out in the field, when she’d lain on one side of me and Alexander on my other, there was nothing else I could have wished for in the world.

A man suddenly slowed down as he passed me, only to nod and continue on his way. I returned the gesture. Compared to the common man, it was rare for those who had once been aristocrats to halt me. They had nothing to thank me for, pulling their generational privilege from their hands. Alexander had despised them, calling them docile cats grown complacent over centuries.

I must confess I had never contemplated it before I met him. I was not blind, nor do I believe I had been heartless, but humans had a way of overlooking the things that did not concern them. The sickening crush of the classes had all seemed so far away that it never affected me.

I no longer remembered if there was a single moment when Alexander convinced me or if it all happened slowly. It could have been during those long nights when we sat up talking or when he slipped me a book that would have had him expelled from the academy and disinherited from his family had they found out. Maybe it was his demeanour when I first saw how he treated those that our classes ignored. Either way, by the second year of military academy, I could no longer close my eyes to the generational yoke of the common man.

It was still early when I arrived at the governmental building. I halted by the door and looked out over the square on the other side of the street. The bronze statue gleamed in the early morning sun. Even now, this early, people stopped to leave offerings. I stared at Alexander’s frozen figure and my likeness standing next to him, staring into the distance. Forever remembered. I turned away.

There was a click of the door, and I turned to see the minister's secretary. He nodded at me, and I returned the gesture before following him inside. This building had become close to my second home after the war. I had visited it sometimes at the military academy when lessons deemed it necessary to prepare us for the duties of our ranks, but now most people had been replaced, and only the interior was still as I remembered it.

I followed him up the stairs, and he stopped at the top and turned to me.

“She will see you shortly."

He gestured at a set of chairs lining the wall and disappeared into the room. I took a seat.

We had come a far way from that time when the monarchy declared itself defeated. Slowly, the society was being restored, and proper administration put in place. The prime minister had been a latecomer to the revolution, one of the few aristocrats who, at a late hour, had changed sides and turned from their class. I’d never asked her what made her do it, feeling it was too personal to pry into something that must have torn her away from her family.

The door suddenly opened, and the minister’s secretary came out again.

“She will see you now."

I got up, and he gestured for me to step inside before closing the door behind me.

“You’re early."

She looked up from her documents. I nodded and took a seat on the other side of the table.

“Tell me."

She had never been one for small talk, and for that I was grateful. I put the briefcase in my lap and took out the documents I’d worked on in the night.

“The provisional government of the Northern Territory has peacefully transitioned to a democratically chosen council. Toruvanni has kept the agreement, and the new governor has offered full support to the republic but expects two seats on the constitutional assembly."

She nodded and let me continue.

“As previous reports stated, the countryside is destroyed, and there is an imminent risk of famine. They will require support from the central government to stabilise the food situation and avoid potential revolt.”

I kept moving through what I had learned during my travels, and she only interrupted to ask clarifying questions. When I was finished, she turned to gaze out of the window. After a long silence, she whispered into the room,

“To have thought…”

She let the sentence hang in the air until she suddenly turned to me.

“You’re dismissed. We will meet when you return from your next journey."

I got up and left.