I woke up gasping, my body slick with sweat, as though I'd just run the length of the empire. The faces haunted me—the hollow eyes, the blistered feet, the cries that never seemed to stop. They were still marching in my head, every step pounding like a drumbeat of shame.
I sat up, running a hand over my face. My fingers trembled as they passed over my beard. Damn it all. Why did I do it? Why did I follow orders like a dog? My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I thought I might vomit.
The west river still awaited me. More lives to uproot, more faces to join the ones in my nightmares.
The hero type I had become to the bunch of soldiers surrounding me here, within these barracks-I just could not stay in. Sometime swinging my legs off to the side of the bed, I sat in quiet moment after quiet moment. My feet ended upon the cold stone floor-a grounding into reality. They were dead. They couldn't be brought back, and I had sent them into graves.
I needed air.
Pulling on a simple blue tunic and my uniform coat, securing my boots, I stepped out into the air. Early morning was crisp, that kind of sharp which does not quite sting but settles clean into your lungs. Before me spread the palace grounds, immaculate and tranquil; a drastic contrast to chaos left in my wake across the frontier.
I told myself I was patrolling, though in truth, I was wandering. My legs carried me through the wide courtyards and the twisting stone paths, and I passed by the occasional early rising guard or servant. Most greeted me with polite nods or salutes. None dared ask why I was out this early, and for that, I was grateful.
Soon enough, I was inside the palace gardens. I had heard of them, yet never had the time-or the inclination-to go see them. The air here smelled sweeter, tinged with the delicate scent of flowers I couldn't name. The garden came alive with color: brilliant reds, soft whites, and deep blues. A small fountain burbled its melody soothingly at the center.
I almost had turned to leave when I saw her.
She stood near the fountain, her blue hair cascading down her back like a waterfall, catching the soft morning light. It was unmistakable-this was the Empress. I didn't need anyone to tell me. Her presence commanded attention without trying, and that hair … It was as unique as it was beautiful.
I froze for a second, not sure what exactly I was to do next. She wasn't as I had thought, hadn't been whatsoever. By some reason, I have counted on her being cold and distant like the Emperor, but all that came across as I watched her took yet another turn: she seemed so kind as her fingers grazed gently against flower petals.
Realizing I couldn't just stand there staring like a fool, I cleared my throat. "Good morning, Your Majesty."
She turned, startled at first, but then she offered a small smile. "Good morning. General, isn't it?" Her voice was soft, warm.
I felt my cheeks flush, and I cursed myself for it. "Yes, General Halibart, at your service," I said, bowing slightly. "I didn't mean to disturb you.
"You didn't," she said, shaking her head. "I enjoy the company. It's rare for someone other than the maids to come here."
"I can see why you'd want to spend time here," I said, glancing around. "It's beautiful. Peaceful." Unlike me, I thought bitterly.
She nodded, her eyes distant. "It's one of the few places that still feels untouched by… everything else."
There was a tinge of sadness in her voice that I didn't miss. I wanted to ask her what she meant, but I didn't. It wasn't my place. Instead, I changed the subject. "Do you tend to the garden often, Your Majesty?"
"Sometimes," she said, brushing her fingers against a rose. "It reminds me of home. Before all of this."
"Before you became Empress," I said. It wasn't a question.
"Yes." Her smile faltered for a moment, and she looked down at the flower in her hand. "Not everything here is as golden as it seems, General."
I didn't know how to respond to that, so I stayed silent.
"And you?" she asked, turning the conversation back to me. "What brings you to the garden this morning?"
"I… needed air," I admitted. "A lot weighs on my mind."
She cocked her head, observing me. "You look tired."
"I feel it," I said with a rueful chuckle. "But I'm sure you know how that is."
She smiled faintly. "Perhaps.
For a moment, we stood in comfortable silence, the sound of the fountain between us. I couldn't help stealing glances at her. She was nothing like I had expected. There was a grace to her, yes, but also a quiet strength.
"You're different from him," I said before I could stop myself.
She looked at me, confused. "From who?"
"The Emperor.
Her expression shifted, but she didn't appear to take offense. Instead, she let out a sigh. "We are different, yes. Very different."
I wanted to ask more, but I checked myself. It wasn't a place I was supposed to go, and the last thing I wanted to do was overstep. Still, there was something about her-something that drew me in.
"I should go," I said, bowing again. "I've taken enough of your time.
"You haven't," she said softly, and for a moment, I thought she might say more. But she didn't, and I didn't press.
As I turned to leave, my heart ached in a way I hadn't experienced in years. She was unlike anyone I'd ever met, and I knew, deep down, I would carry this moment with me for a long time.