"Again."

Rakta suppressed a groan as Masuta's voice rang through the training yard. His aching body complained, screaming at him as he bent to retrieve the sword that had been smashed from his hand mere seconds ago.

There must have been something telling on his face because Masuta frowned and smacked the flat of his own blade into Rakta's arm, the heavy metal making his fingers go numb.

"Problem Ace?" Masuta asked, making Rakta glare.

"None, sir," was his clipped response as he switched the sword to his left hand. "Beyond a lack of understanding."

Masuta raised an eyebrow, his scar stretching weirdly with the motion. "What exactly is it that you are failing to grasp?"

Rakta stared at the sword in his hand with distaste. "Why I am training with this when I could be using firearms."

Rakta loathed swords. They felt unwieldy, even the perfectly balanced ones. They felt out of control. He much preferred guns, even knives. Maybe especially knives with the way they fit snugly in his palms, always ready to do his bidding, inflicting damage with an accuracy that he found breathtaking.

Masuta laughed and said, "You'll be more than happy that we brushed up on swordplay when we move out next month. The Club Ace is notorious for her mastery of any bladed weapon. And if she gets close, which she will, a gun won't be the thing that kills her. A blade is more reliable in close quarters. A bullet, once fired, cannot be guided and at close range, any little movement made by the target increases the chance that the bullet will miss."

Rakta sighed before settling back into his fighting stance, waiting, his body already bemoaning the beating it was about to receive. He was already bleeding from several small cuts Masuta had landed on him.

Snow flurried around them, trying to distract his eyes. His exposed skin felt tight in the chill.

He inhaled deeply, the cold cutting into his chest and caught the slight forward shuffle that indicated an impending attack.

The sound of steel meeting steel rang through the winter morning, the sound beautiful and invigorating. The shrieking in his shoulders, the weariness in his legs and fatigue in his wrists disappeared as the fight took over, washing through him like a healing tide.

Rakta smiled, euphoric in the presence of potential destruction, that thing inside of him that made him an Ace singing with delight.

His steps quickened, matching Masuta's complicated footwork, each blow of his teacher's sword brutal on his already battered body.

He swatted a slashing blow away and thrust forward, surprised when he opened up a cut along Masuta's bicep, startling crimson pouring quickly down bare skin.

Masuta snarled and Rakta tried desperately to match his teacher as strikes were rained upon him furiously. He heard the scuff of a boot behind him and ducked, a blade whistling through the air over his head before he rolled away to find a general whose name he couldn't remember smirking at him, the sword in his hand glinting menacingly at him.

Rakta gritted his teeth, baring them in an answering snarl as he lunged at the Jack, grunting when a cut was opened on his leg, just above the knee, then on his bare shoulder.

He saw Masuta back away from the fight then, eyes narrowed as he observed the engagement, Rakta's blood dripping from the tip of his sword.

He was momentarily grateful that the castle's bladesmith made his weapons so sharp. The edge of the blade was so keen that Rakta couldn't feel the pain of the cuts yet.

The man stabbed and slashed, Rakta finding himself once more hard pressed to keep himself from being cut. The sword cut through the air, angling for his throat and Rakta had no other option but to bend over backwards, planting his hands firmly into the ground, propelling himself up with the remaining strength in his shoulders to right himself, losing his sword in the process as he faced his opponent.

The man circled Rakta, twirling the sword in his hand expertly. He knew the general would jump at any chance to be able to say that he had bested an Ace in combat. It would add quite the boost to his resume.

Rakta surprised the man by jumping towards him, his foot arcing out in a kick that smashed his shin into the side of the general's thigh. He hissed but didn't go down like Rakta had expected.

He had managed to give himself a little room though and picked up his sword. He transferred it to his dominant right hand, trying to give himself some advantage but instead, he just opened himself up.

The blade's edge glanced along his jaw and Rakta flinched away, just to be met with an elbow to the mouth that sent him sprawling, his sword again knocked away by the impact.

He lay staring up at the pale blue sky, then rolled to his hands and knees, spitting blood. A flicker of movement warned him and Rakta threw himself sideways, barely avoiding a kick that probably would have re-fractured his newly healed ribs.

He scrambled to where his sword lay, reaching for it, anger making everything hot and bright.

Rakta reached the weapon and rolled to his back, raising the blade.

The Jack's sword collided with his own, hard enough to create sparks and Rakta felt something pop in his wrist.

Distantly, he heard a whistle from Masuta signalling the end of the match. His opponent smiled in what might have been approval or admiration but Rakta's eyes were clouded with a battle fury and he only found a taunt on the older warrior's face.

He twisted his sword around the general's in a tricky little maneuver he had practiced relentlessly. The man's mouth opened in surprise as Rakta threw their swords away.

He looked down at the Ace, horror sparking in the autumn depths of his eyes at the uncontrolled rage Rakta knew was visible.

But Rakta didn't care.

He couldn't care, it was now beyond his control.

His fist slammed into the outside of the Jack's thigh, deadening the nerve there, followed quickly by a punch to the stomach that had the man crumpling forward.

Rakta rolled to his feet and grabbing his opponent by the hair, slammed his knee into his face, gratified by the crunching noise that accompanies a broken nose.

"Ace," the general choked. "Stand down!"

But the order merely fueled the flame that was now burning out of control.

Rakta growled, the sound animalistic, and grabbed the Jack by his throat, throwing him back to the ground. Quick as a cat, he jumped on the general, straddling his chest and used his knees to pin the man's arms.

The first punch sent a shock-wave up Rakta's arm, but that stopped nothing. He didn't know how many times he hit the Jack.

He didn't think it was very many because he quickly found himself plowing into the stone of the training yard, his skin scraping painfully along the ground.

He roared and threw a sharp elbow that knocked the Nine who had tackled him out cold and sprang to his feet, his sharp teeth bared like a cornered animal as more soldiers rushed at him.

A red mist hazed his vision and Rakta no longer knew any conscious thought. He felt the dull throb of his knuckles smashing into jaws, the sharp pain of shallow cuts opening up all over his body as the other soldiers tried to subdue him without injuring their Ace permanently. He didn't feel either of these things for very long though.

Rakta spun, his foot lashing out, the back of his heel colliding with the side of someone's head and he backed up as he heard more shouting.

His eyes flicked around, assessing, his blood singing even as it splashed to the ground at his feet.

His body twitched, cursing his stillness, begging to re-enter the fight.

"Enough Ace!" A powerful voice rang out, cutting through Rakta's blood lust as effectively as the sharpest knife.

The soldiers parted to reveal Mielas Diamond, the Queen.

Rakta's breath caught, just to burst into ragged pants.

"Kneel!" the Queen commanded, voice harsh.

Rakta's chest heaved as his loyalty bond forced him to the ground. Pain started to creep through his body as he looked around at the several bodies lying around him, soldiers moaning and clutching at broken limbs.

He didn't remember fighting that many.

Horror made him dizzy and he sat back on his heels, his chest caving in as his shoulders slumped, sick to his very core.

He started violently when cool fingers raised his chin gently.

Rakta's breath stuttered as the Queen gazed down at him. Quietly, she asked, "Do you know why this happened Ace?"

His eyes flicked around before he whispered, "I lost control."

Mielas nodded gravely. He squeezed his eyes shut, only for them to pop open at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps.

"Rakta!" Avinos cried, pushing her way through the soldiers keeping a respectful distance.

She caught her skirts up in her hands and ran, jumping over two prone figures to fall to her knees by his side.

Rakta saw the Queen raise an eyebrow but she did nothing to stop her daughter as Avinos gently touched his face, making small, distressed sounds as she cataloged each wound.

He sat frozen, terrified that he would somehow hurt the princess too. The Queen noticed, tilting her head slightly. Softly, she asked, "Why did you lose control? You know the consequences of an Ace losing himself."

Rakta tore his gaze from Avinos as he answered Mielas. "I was angry, your majesty."

Avinos pulled away from him slightly, simultaneously making him feel better and worse. "Oh, Rakta," she sighed.

Mielas cast an amused look at the princess and said, "You would say something to our young Ace, daughter?"

Avinos blushed slightly, making Rakta's heart beat unevenly in his chest, but she nodded and said, "Don't you understand Rakta? Anger is so very useless. All it leads to is mistakes. If you're angry, all you'll ever do is fail. Like..." Avinos paused and looked around. More softly, she continued, "Like today. Anger is just a storm Rakta. It tears itself apart along with everything in its path, leaving nothing but sorrow in its wake."

He flinched when she placed a hand softly against his face. Looking at him with large eyes, her face pale, she said, "Don't be a storm Rakta. Please."

Queen Mielas smiled and placed a hand lovingly on Avinos' shoulder. "Well said darling." She narrowed her eyes at Rakta, who swallowed, his throat dry before she said, "Avinos, take him and get him cleaned up. I would speak with this young man privately, but only after his wounds are tended."

"Yes Mother," Avinos replied, bowing her head.

Panic welled up at the prospect of being left alone with the princess, the feeling magnified when he remembered what had happened at the ball a month ago.

He had done his level best to avoid Avinos as much as he could after she had kissed him, but he knew he had no choice her as she took his hand and helped him to his feet.

Rakta was surprised when he stumbled slightly, his vision blurring. Protesting weakly when the princess placed his arm over her shoulders, she all but dragged him back to the barracks.

Depositing him on his bed, she looked at him sternly. "Stay," she commanded, waiting until he nodded.

Rakta shut his eyes and lay down, rolling to his side as he waited for the princess to return, guilt thick in his throat as blood trickled, warm and slick from multiple wounds over his torso and arms.

He was so tired that he couldn't even jump when the door was opened again. He waited, his eyes closed, then sat bolt upright, swearing under his breath when something that stung horribly was poured onto his shoulder.

His pain glazed eyes focused slowly on Avinos, who looked furious. Rakta glanced sideways at the bedside table, his eyes widening when he found what looked like the entire infirmary sitting there.

Weakly, he asked, "How did you carry all of this."

"Shut up," she said fiercely. "I am so mad at you Rakta! What were you thinking?"

His heart aching along with the rest of him now, he whispered, "Nothing. I was thinking absolutely nothing."

Her hand stilled where she was dabbing at the scraped skin on his shoulder with a cloth soaked in something that smelled sharp. Looking up at him, she asked, "What does that mean?"

Raggedly, he explained, "An Ace's blood lust is a powerful thing Avi. It's like... it's what happens when we become..." He trailed off, growling when he couldn't find the words to explain what had happened to him.

Finally, he sighed, closing his eyes as she continued cleaning the raw skin on his back. Miserably, he said, "It doesn't mean anything. What happened shouldn't have happened."

A whine slipped between his teeth and he leaned forward, burying his face in his hands as he struggled to come to terms with what he'd done.

He grew still when he heard Avinos kneel in front of him, then hardly dared to breath when she wrapped her arms carefully around him, her fingers combing gently through his bloody hair. Rocking back and forth slightly, she soothed, "You're right. It shouldn't have happened. Now you know that and it never will again."

Barely whispering, still frozen, he asked, "How can you possibly think that? You saw that. That was the work of a monster Avi."

He eased himself away to stare down into her eyes. Gravely, he said, "That's what I am. A monster. It's not safe for you to be here with me."

Fiercely, she snapped, "The safest possible place I could be is here with you Rakta." Embracing him again, she said, "You're no monster."

He twitched slightly, his emotions battering his insides ruthlessly.

His hands trembling, Rakta gently pushed the princess back, shaking his head. He was shocked when her palm cracked into the side of his face, the surprise bringing a startling clarity.

The princess spread her hands. Angrily, she said, "See? I just attacked you. But you're not hurting me!"

Rakta couldn't even begin to formulate a response to that, so he just stared at her. Whispering again, he asked, "Why are you here princess?"

Avinos buried her face in her hands. Quietly, she said, "I don't belong anywhere else. You're hurt Rakta. After you promised me you wouldn't let that happen! I just... I can't stay away from you anymore."

"Wha-"

Rakta's question was lost when the princess lunged forward, her hands trapping his face before she crushed her mouth against his.

Immediately, his eyes snapped shut and his arms went around her waist, pulling the princess into him so abruptly that he fell over backwards, taking her with him.

Her hair cascaded in a sweet curtain around him as her fingers dug slightly into the sides of his face, her lips moving hard against his. His arms constricted around her waist, like he was trying to physically crush her into his own chest, her body pressed against his.

She was so warm.

The ice that had been creeping steadily through his veins retreated in the face of Avinos' heat.

Reality flooded back in when she broke the kiss and he sat up, loosening his hold on her, but she didn't move away from him. Breathing rapidly, he looked up at her in astonishment as she brushed her fingers gently through his short hair.

She set her lips lightly on his before murmuring, "I love you Rakta. I have since we first met that day you came to the castle. I know, beyond any doubt that you could never hurt me."

Resting her head on his shoulder, she gently touched the small cuts scattered across his chest and said, "This doesn't make you a monster Rakta. It doesn't even make you a weapon. It just makes you who you are."

"How is that possibly something you could love?" he choked out, terror sweeping through him at her words. He stood up, carefully setting the princess on her feet before he retreated to the other side of the room.

Avinos smiled gently at him and said, "I'm not sure that we get to pick who or what we love. All I know is that it hurts being away from you and I'm terrified of losing you to this war."

His eyes widened again and he opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to find something to say.

This was impossible.

"Avi," he whispered, afraid of what was going to come out of his mouth next. He didn't want it to be the wrong thing.

Avinos smiled at him a little sadly and said, "I know that this isn't how it's supposed to be Rakta. But at the same time... it is. Don't you understand? I was born a princess and you were born an Ace but sometimes mistakes are made. One or the both of us was mistakenly born as what we are, but it doesn't matter because we still somehow found each other."

His lips parted slightly, each word feeling like a knife in his heart.

Because it was everything he had ever wanted to hear. And it was everything he could never have.

Avinos crossed the room and took his hands carefully. Blinking hard, in a last bid for control over himself, he said, "Avi, I... you... we can't."

"Because you are an Ace and I will be Queen."

It wasn't a question, but Rakta nodded anyway, his heart bloody and raw.

Avinos frowned, looking down at their hands. She smiled slightly and said, "And yet, your fingers tell a different story."

Rakta looked down to find that, quite without his permission, his fingers had twined themselves through Avinos'. He swallowed hard and looked back up to meet her gaze.

Gently, she extracted one hand to brush his hair back from his face, his eyes sliding half closed at her touch.

"I love you," the whispered words slipped out unbidden, but he couldn't stop them.

He couldn't keep lying. Not to her. Not even to himself.

Moving carefully, still a little afraid of hurting her, he placed a hand on the back of her neck, fingers burying themselves in her silky tresses. She tilted her face up, lips half parted and Rakta complied.

Bending his head, he softly placed his lips on hers, something inside him breaking. A pressure he hadn't been aware of until it was gone lifted from him and he sighed, pressing his mouth a little harder into hers.

Rakta wasn't supposed to love Avinos.

And she wasn't supposed to love him.

Yet, here he was, and she was in his arms and her lips were upon his, her hands in his hair and more impossible words were on her tongue.

"Be my King."

Rakta immediately pulled back, staring down into her gorgeous sunset eyes, shock like a bucket of cold water.

Avinos stood on her toes , capturing his mouth again effortlessly. She kissed him until they were both breathing hard, then sighed, resting her cheek against his chest, ignoring the blood there.

"Be my King, Rakta," she said again. She felt him stiffen and said, "I know it's not very... traditional, but it is my choice. As the born Queen, I can choose whomsoever I wish to have by my side."

Slowly, Rakta said, "I know it is more of a... honorary position... but--"

"I would never ask you to step away from your duties as an Ace," she said hastily. Smiling at him, she said, "You love being what you are. You do, even though right now you wish you were something else..."

She trailed off as he shook his head. Staring hard at her, he said, "I might not like what I did now, but I did while I was doing it. I liked hurting those people. Are you still so certain I'm not a monster?"

"You're my monster," she said, making him scoff. She shook her head, hair flowing like a red river down her back. "I've already told you Rakta. I'm just waiting for an answer."

He closed his eyes momentarily but knew there was no use.

He had never been able to deny her anything. Why should he start now?

Kissing her softly one last time, he sighed, "I assume this is something your mother will be talking to me about today?"

Avinos gave a startled little gasp and said, "Oh! Mother! We need to get you cleaned up, you have to go and speak with her!"

When he raised an eyebrow, she grinned a little sheepishly and said, "Yes. That was actually why she was coming out to retrieve you before we saw what was happening. I had told her my intentions this morning."

"And she was okay with this?" Rakta practically squeaked, his heart now going double time in his throat.

Avinos nodded as she started to wipe away the blood with a damp cloth. Smiling, she said, "Mother just wants me to be happy. And I'm happiest when I am with you."

Rakta closed his eyes, certain that he would lose his head by the time the sun set today.