I was getting tired of walking, so I stopped at a concrete bench near an open square and sat down. A tall building cast a shadow over the place and I shivered. Toro stopped too, and stood beside me, his back against the bench. Icicles hung at its bottom and I snapped a piece of one and started to chew on it. It wouldn't sate my hunger but it gave my mouth something to do.
"Did I ever tell you about the first Victory Parade after the war?" I asked once I finished chewing.
"Madame Lynch, there is ice above you. I'd recommend against sitting there," said Toro, overlooking my question. He always disguised his thoughts or orders as recommendations, and I tended to ignore them.
I looked up. Three thick icicles hung above us on the curved roof of a building. For all the practicality and pragmatism the Balians professed, their architecture wasn't adequate for the planet's climate. Ice and water accumulated on most of them. It was as if they had refused to accept the eternal winter they lived in and built their buildings to resemble their square minded, boring people.
"They must have forgotten to clean the ice out this morning," I said, but I didn't feel like getting up. Toro remained silent, with his arms crossed and his back to me.
"The first Victory Parade took place the day I arrived here," I continued. "I was a war trophy: Alysia Lynch, Solano's whore." Toro took a deep breath and stayed put. "They displayed me on a hover plate, and I had to wear this absurd, red furry gown like the ones your women use."
Thousands of awed eyes had watched me from their seats as the hoverplate circled the dome's arena. All I had thought of at the time was that I should have let the soldiers bury me with Solano. It would have been an honorable end to my short life.
When I was brought to Balia I had been drunk on arrogance and pride. Invincible, despite having lost everything in Pagua. I prided myself having been Solano's voice of reason during the war, on saving so many Paguan lives of his frequent bouts of madness. I had been a decent soldier too. But I was no longer a linguist, an advisor or a soldier. I wasn't anyone anymore. Balia transformed me into my former self: a bored, useless accessory who had one way conversations with her bodyguard to pass the time.
I sneezed and Toro glanced at me, then turned around and resumed his bodyguard pose. He knew this story. I must have told it and retold it every time I felt helpless: and that happened almost every day in different degrees. But reliving it helped me to remember that no, I shouldn't have died with Solano. I was not responsible for his defeat, and he wasn't my owner. I had landed in this turmoil by chance, or maybe my own stupidity.
"Do you know why they call me Solano's whore?" I said.
"It's not for me to-"
An explosion interrupted Toro, and the world shook, lifting dust around us. A black cloud of smoke rose in the dome's direction.
"I recommend we go to the embassy, Madame," said Toro with urgency. He looked distraught.
Finally some emotion from the man! I couldn't help feeling thrilled. It had been ages since anything exciting occurred.
"What was that?"
"I don't know, Madame. We should go."
"But-"
BOOM.
Another explosion went off closer this time, in the direction of the Emperor's palace. It almost knocked me off the bench.
Something cracked above us and I looked up.
The icicles.
I jumped towards Toro, covering him with my wings. In retrospect, I could have just pushed him out of the way. The icicles hit the blades of my wings with such force that we both fell. As the icicles skidded down and shattered on the concrete, we hit the ground. My head bounced off the bench and everything went dark.