Page 64 of Burn of the Everflame

“You say you’re our Queen,” the man went on. “But you’re a Descended, just like them.”

“Come here,” I ordered.

His throat bobbed, his confidence wavering. “Your Majesty, I didn’t mean to⁠—”

“What’s your name?” I asked.

He cautiously walked forward. “Lonard, Your Majesty.”

“What realm are you from?”

“Born in Meros, Your Majesty.”

“Why did you join the army, Lonard?”

“I get seasick, Your Majesty. And I hate the smell of fish.” He flashed a sheepish smile. “Doesn’t leave me many options in Meros. Thought I might have better luck as a soldier. Joined right out of school, when I was fourteen.”

My heart cracked. “You were still a child.”

“Not by Descended laws. But aye, I was. They gave me a sword I didn’t know how to use and ordered me to kill my own kind. Told me the bad ones were ruining things for those of us who were innocent.” He frowned. “But I don’t feel very innocent.”

“I’m not sure any of us are,” I agreed. “Even those who did nothing.” Guilt ripped through me. “Especially those who did nothing.”

“I asked my Commander once why we only went after mortals. He told me the rebels were the biggest threat, and we’d get to the Descended in time.” He looked down at a corpse on the ground, its brown eyes glazed over. “Thirty years I’ve been waiting, and I’m still fighting people who look just like me.”

I thought on his words. I could not make him false promises about who I was and what I planned to do. I was a Descended Crown. And although I despised it, in order to stop Ophiucae, I would very likely have to take mortal lives, too. It left me wondering if he was right—if I was really any different from the Descended who wore these Crowns before me, declaring people bad or good based on whoever I’d decided to protect.

“I’d like you to serve me, Lonard.” I glanced at the insignia on his shoulder—a modest officer, low in power, but the highest rank mortals could realistically achieve. “As a Commander.”

His face went slack. “There’s only been one mortal Commander.”

“I know.” I smiled sadly. “My father.”

Luther’s hand brushed mine, his finger hooking around one of my own.

“Andrei Bellator was no innocent, either,” I admitted, “but he was brave, and he was fair. He did what he thought was right, and he taught me to fight for those who needed saving in whatever way the world would allow. I can see that you’re brave, Lonard, and I think that you can be fair. Maybe I am just another Descended Crown, but I’m going to try to make it something good. Will you help me?”

He warily looked me over, hesitating.

“If you prefer,” I went on, “you can retire from the army with full pension. Full Descended pension.”

His eyes grew huge. Descended veterans received ten times the sum of a mortal. Even low-ranked Descended earned more than my father had been given for his history-making career.

“Take the money you’ve earned and go home, if that’s what you want,” I said. “If you stay, do it because you believe in what you’re doing, not because you have no better choice.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re fighting the rebels?”

“Some of them,” I admitted. “The ones who were just here, doing all of this. But I’m fighting for the rebels, too—the ones who want the injustice to stop.”

Lonard looked around at the fallen bodies and gave a firm nod. “Aye. I got a few fighting years left in me. I’d like to do something good with them, too.”

“Wonderful, Commander,” I answered. His face lit up. I spotted Alixe with a group of mortals near the melted gate. Their clothes were soiled and rumpled, their expressions tired—the newly released prisoners, I guessed. I waved her over. “Lonard, I’d like you to be responsible for all the army soldiers in Lumnos. You’ll report directly to my High General, Alixe Corbois.”

“This is an outrage,” a man bellowed behind me. “I am in charge of the soldiers.”

“Not anymore,” I said, not bothering to look. “The Emarion Army is mine to command.”

“My army will never answer to some self-righteous, Crown-stealing, half-breed b⁠—”