Angelica and Benedict returned on their mounts to Lux Aestius. Her brother, Inejgo, was preparing the Veroñan vanguard to begin their march to Navitium on the morrow. But she was not going to speak to her brother now. No, she was going to speak with her mother.

The Coronation of Blood was what the commoners and highborn alike had begun to call the massacre that was Prince Francisco's coronation. The only king crowned was blood and death. And Angelica knew her mother was behind all of it.

So many scions of noble families had died in the Coronation of Blood. Martin Pelagia, Dame Janet Canbria, Alphonso Navaré, Sir Terrance delle Lafoulé, and so many others... including her own sister. The Cleric Knights and the Serpent Guard had been decimated. And Sersalvon was now in civil war.

She asked some of the handmaids for the whereabouts of her mother. They said that she had resigned herself to her rooms.

So Angelica stormed right to her. She knocked quite loudly and quite rudely on the door to her rooms. The guard standing next to her had a worried look on her face.

"Who is it," the Duchess of Mercenaries called out.

"Your daughter," she replied sharply. Your only daughter.

"Come in."

The guard took out keys to the room and opened the door for Angelica. Her mother was in a small secluded area of her room, lying in a large marble bathtub filled with water that covered most of her bodily parts.

"My daughter, what is it you wish?"

Angelica looked her mother directly in her eyes. Her cold sea-blue eyes. Were her own irises so cold? "Are you going to marry me off to Benedict?"

Her mother barely deigned to look at her. "You already know the answer to that."

"So was this all part of your plan, Mother? To side House Florjes with Prince Benedict in a civil war that will undoubtedly engulf all of Sersalvon? Was it your plan for Myeria to die?" She spat the last word out like the poison it was. When she looked at her mother now, she was taken aback.

There was hurt in her eyes.

"Angelica... I'm mourning Myeria as much as you and the rest of our family. Even more so."

Angelica ignored the hurt and continued. "You had probably planned to marry her off to Benedict and divorce her husband since Lord Estevan is a prisoner now and branded a traitor to the realm."

Her mother nodded. "Yes... that was the plan."

"But then she died," Angelica said scathingly.

"Angelica," her mother snapped. Hurt turning into anger. "Do you truly believe I am not mourning for my daughter? I did not want her to die! The coronation was supposed to crown Prince Benedict, not blood." Her mother's voice caught on something. Then Angelica realized, the Duchess of Veroña was about to cry. "If you want me to confess that I have been pulling the strings then you shall have it: yes, I did. When the Battle of Carcino occurred and I traveled to la'Manse delle Simia, I knew the king would come to chastise his son. So I arranged an incident to occur on the road back to Navitium."

Angelica put a hand to her mouth. "You hired the Company of the Hook?"

Her mother nodded. "I told them to specifically kill the king. Although it put the two of you at risk, I knew you could take care of yourself and the household guard would do their job in protecting you both. The attack focused on the king's carriage so you were not as at risk as you could have been. If the mercenaries had failed to kill the king, I would've sent a hired knife posing as a servant or guard to finish the job."

"But the king was wounded," Angelica noted.

"Yes he was. Perhaps that was good luck on our part. It allowed your brothers and father back home to raise a more substantial force as the king slowly died. At the same time, it gave the Lord Constable the same time."

"And Count Jovan?"

"I had planned to marry you off to his younger brother or Inejgo to his younger sister. So we have an alliance."

"But I thought he did not care for the kingdom?"

"That was before he learned of the Evrúopean threat."

"The Seneschal?"

"He would've ratted you out the second you turned your back."

"And the coronation?"

"As I said. It was supposed to have gone more smoothly."

"What changed?"

"The Serpent Guard. Sir Terrance was a friend of Benedict's and I had expected him and the rest of the Serpent Guard to refrain from harming the prince whom they loved. I misjudged that man's sense of duty."

"And Myeria died because of it."

"Must you remind me?" Now her mother's voice was rising. Seldom did Duchess Lilliana Florjes raise her voice. "Everything I did I do for you, and her, and your brothers and father. For the future generations of Florjes. For family."

Angelica forged on. "So would you do it again?"

"It's not even over and you're asking me that already?"

"Is this not result enough?"

"Perhaps it was her time, Angelica. Perhaps the Angel King and all his servants decided that her time on Arkenheim was over."

Angelica scoffed. "Don't hand me that horseshit, Mother. You've never cared much for the Angel King."

"That was until I saw Juliana herself, Angel of Leadership, stand behind Prince Benedict."

Angelica shook her pounding head. "Don't try to shift the blame, just... don't."

Her mother took a good long look at Angelica. Her eyes softened from a raging storm to a calm sea. She stood up from the bath and wrapped herself in her towel before stepping out. "Are you talking to me or to yourself?"

Angelica broke down in tears. To her shock, her mother rushed forward and embraced her fiercely. "Don't be," Lilliana whispered. "You were right. The fault is mine."

"And mine," Angelica managed through her sobs. "I found the journal and gave it to Benedict. I gave him his evidence."

"No, sweet one. The journal was planted."

Angelica stared at her mother in shock. "Was it all a game?"

"Death is no game," she replied, "and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"So is Francisco a bastard or not?"

"That doesn't matter anymore. But let us not talk politics, daughter."

They stood there, the two of them, locked in an embrace like never before. Never before had her mother ever shown such emotion. The Duchess of Mercenaries wasn't allowed to have emotions.

"Angelica?"

"Yes, Mother?"

"I'm proud of you."

***

The Barbarudi ships had finally given up on chasing them. Emma had been given the choicest of rooms on Lily's Wind. The last ship of the small fleet that had landed in the Grenaserrat Docks. Salvador could imagine the massacre that must've taken place with the sellswords that remained behind.

The crystal blue dunes of the Caraíbes Sea spread out before them, endlessly shifting and rolling. Salvador faced aft and saw the dark storm swirling leagues behind them. A hurricane. Even though the Grenaserrat Harbor would most likely protect the ships from the brunt of the waves, the hammering winds would wreak havoc on their masts.

Since they had to steer clear of Barbaruda, they had to go all the way around without stopping at Bethebleu or any other port city. A week is what it would take to reach Sersalvon. They were four days out to sea.

Gerard sat down next to him on the starboard side bench. He said nothing. And there was nothing to be said.

His sister, however, was a different story. Stéphane constantly grumbled and complained about the situation they were in. She loudly lamented the loss of her soldiers and even went so far as to blame Salvador for not reaching them fast enough. Usually, Salvador would've shot back some witty remark and insulted her, but he just took the blame and sunk his shoulders lower.

His dreams were plagued by constant screaming and uncontrollable fire. He saw the little boy with an arrow sticking through him. He heard the woman say, You've killed us all.

You've killed us all you've killed us all you've killed us all.

Emma approached him on that bench. "What do you plan to do with me?"

He barely managed to look at her. "What do you think?"

"Use me as a chip to bargain with my brother? It won't work."

"What makes you think so? Even if he doesn't care about you, he'll want you back," he mumbled.

She lifted her chin. "You are correct that my brother doesn't care about me. At least, not in a loving sense. He won't suffer this slight on his name. If word reaches Réaltimar that I was captured by mercenaries he hired, he would be ridiculed and the invasion would be called off."

Salvador looked at her. Is she stupid. "Thank you for giving more reason to hold onto him."

Emma snorted. "I don't think you understand. Paying to get me back would only make it worse. My brother will get me back with fire and sword."

Salvador shrugged tiredly. "Not if you're in my hands."

Emma looked as if she wanted to slap him. "You realize he would've ordered that his men take some of your sellswords prisoner?"

He gave her a blank stare.

"He'll despise and blame you for this, Salvador. He'll look for ways to retaliate against you, personally. Just as you have personally attacked him by taking me."

Salvador shook his head. "He'll find nothing. No one even knows where I'm from."

Up until now, Gerard hadn't said anything. But here he decided to give his input. "Amongst the highborn you are not known, Salvador. But you are not unknown amongst the common folk and soldiers. You are even something of a myth."

"He'll find out where you're from. Maybe he won't they won't tell him it was Sapinsville, but they'll give him the name of the duchy: Rivièrra. And he will burn and pillage the whole duchy, sparing the lives of no one and destroying everything that lives.

In his heart, Salvador knew it was true. But all he felt was a dull, ebbing anger. He stared straight ahead, at everything and yet at nothing. He saw his home of Sapinsville burning, those whom he had known in his childhood were screaming and dying.

Gerard saw it in his eyes. "We go to Rivièrra then," said the Freelancer Knight. He stood up and walked to his sister and the captain, leaving Emma and Salvador alone.

The princess looked at Salvador with contempt. He paid her no heed. He stared forward towards the bow of the caravel. The time of running has come to a close.

He was going home.