Gorsep stood up; he couldn't stay in this room any longer; he felt suffocated. He left, deaf to the questions from the servants and the elder. He had to leave.
He slowly descended the stairs, staring at his bloody hands, feeling a wave of despair and then anger wash over him. When he emerged, people retreated at the sight of him; Gorsep only wanted to see the shattered carcass of that bitch. He walked straight toward the crowd, but as soon as they saw The Mighty Lord of Kanror, everyone parted, whispering quietly among themselves and taking in the sight of the king and his bloody hands.
She was laying there, on the stone pavement, her limbs strangely twisted and her skull shattered. A pool of blood slowly grew before his eyes. 'That bitch's only luck,' he thought, 'I would have her flayed.' Salema was supposed to be a whore and die, fucked to death, but because of his wife Dagrana her faith changed. She asked him for mercy, and he agreed.
He'd allowed a hate-filled scum to live so close to him and his wife. He could have foreseen, could have done something, could have stopped her. He felt something tightening around his lungs and heart, some invisible force making him gasp for air.
"Put her body in a cage and display it outside the gate," Gorsep said to the two guards standing with their mouths open stupidly. Then he turned and walked back into the castle, to his chambers. He needed silence and wine to soothe the pain, regret, and remorse. He also wanted to wash Dagrana's blood from his hands.
Setia emerged from the audience hall, sweaty and tired, but feeling great. She trained because, as her father used to say, whoever is ready doesn't need to prepare. She wanted to be ready, so she practiced fighting one, two, or three opponents every day. This wasn't the same as with Jefre. Orchad was unbeatable; now she was winning. She headed straight for the chamber; she had to change because she had to meet her army in the afternoon.
At her service were a hundred men who had enlisted in the Emfer guard. The only hundred she could rely on. They were to be her bodyguards in battle, she remembered Jefre's words. Tomorrow she was going to the mercenary camp and to Rosnar.
Jefre.
She kept imagining that his face would appear at every open door. She longed for it and feared it.
"Lady," the guard's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Yes, Borwin," Setia paused.
"There's a man in the dungeon who keeps demanding to speak with you, my Lady. He claims to be an old acquaintance," the shift commander said in one breath.
"What's he in the cell for?"
"I don't know, my Lady," Borwin looked confused, "it was Jefre who put him there."
Setia nodded, then looked at the concerned Borwin and added, "I'll be back in an hour to see that man. What about Marwin?"
"As you ordered, my Lady, executed and buried quietly."
"Excellent, Borwin," Setia smiled and headed for her chambers.
A simple soldier's outfit lay on the bed. No more dresses; in a few days, she was leaving for Fenigrid. She washed her face and tied her long hair into a ponytail, then put on a mask. As always, a dragon amulet rested on her chest. She liked wearing it. She looked in the mirror and was pleased; pregnancy had given her a radiant glow, the dark circles under her eyes had disappeared, and she felt strong. The pregnancy was still faint, but soon a larger belly would appear, and direct participation in combat would be impossible. She even enjoyed this new life. She only felt sorry for Jefre... It was hard, she had to shake off the past; she had no control over it; she could only shape the present and plan the future. One shouldn't lose faith while one could still breathe.
She headed for the door, to check who Jefre had placed in the dungeon. Knowing him, he hadn't done it without reason. The metal door creaked softly as she opened it, and two guards, upon seeing her, rose and straightened their backs like harp strings, saluting vigorously.
"You can wait outside," Setia decided to get rid of the unwanted pairs of ears. The fortress was quiet, and the dungeons were empty, except for one occupant. He was sitting in the corner, dirty, with an overgrown beard, and smelly. Setia recognized him immediately.
"Hello, Red."
Her former comrade-in-arms jumped to his feet, his face still showing signs of the fight. She wondered if this was Jefre's doing.
"Setia!" A look of relief appeared on Red's face. "You recognize me, please let me out, this is a misunderstanding."
"Really?" Setia asked, surprised. She decided to bide her time; she couldn't ask Jefre why he'd locked him up. She had to get it out of Red skillfully.
"You know, I doubt Jefre's wrong so should I call my bright-eyed Orchad?" Red unconsciously rubbed his blue temples and sat down on the straw in front of the grate.
"Setia, I know you have a right to be angry, I can't change that." Red placed his hands on the grate and hung his head. "If I could turn back time, I would change everything."
"I want to hear it again, and from your lips, Red," she said firmly.
"Kanror would have fallen anyway," Red sighed. "It was a trap. I just decided to survive and get something out of it. That's why I showed them the secret entrance. I didn't think it would end this way for our unit..."
Setia felt a wave of anger choking her throat. The secret of Kanror's defeat sat before her on a bundle of rotten straw. She slowly removed her mask and crouched down so her face was at the same level with Red's hunched face.
"That's what your betrayal in Kanror gave me, that's what the death of the entire unit brought me."
Red stared at her face, terror filling his eyes. "Death for betrayal," she said, looking contemptuously at the scum he had become. She rose and put on her mask, while Red fell to his knees.
"Setia, I beg you, for old times' sake..." Setia remained silent, adjusting her mask and hair. "I have important information about Gorsep, he sent me here. He sent me to spy on you..."
Setia looked at him. Gorsep, the sole heir to the Equerda throne, Hadbel's pride and her first great love from long ago, had ordered her spied on. Why?
"Speak."
Red licked his lips nervously and, clutching the bars, rose from his knees. After a moment of fumbling with his trousers, he pulled out a signet ring with the Equerd's coat of arms; she knew it.
"This is to prove I'm telling the truth," Red said. "Gorsep ordered me to spy on you because he can't forget you. He wanted me to bring you to the castle, to him."
Setia couldn't hide the surprise that appeared on her face. She would have never expected something like this.
"To him, as ….what?" The situation amused her.
"As a concubine. I think he... loves you." Red looked at Setia hopefully.
"So as his whore," she called the matter by its name. "It must be really itching him between his legs to chase me." Setia laughed and started to leave.
"Setia, what about me? Setia!"
She didn't turn around; she had to digest all the information. Red shouted something else, but she didn't listen. Her thoughts were swirling around Gorsep.
She was so focused on Fenigrid that she forgot about the Equerds. She had to find out what was happening with the enemy and how much time she had to take Fenigrid. From what she'd heard, after conquering Kanror, they had formed an alliance with Prenian, sealed with a wedding. That was it; she knew nothing more. She had to get as much information out of Red as she could; that scum had a knack for surfacing regardless of the situation. She would do it first thing tomorrow morning and then go to the mercenary camp. Time to conquer the first principality.
She wondered for a moment how much truth there was to the story about Gorsep. Anyway, it wasn't important; she couldn't get distracted now.