If fairytales are real then she is the kind of princess no prince or king could ever handle. She was not made for ballgowns and parties but for battlefields and saddles. - Nikita Gill

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- Victorine -

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Victorine is not a coward. She is loyal and strong and kind-hearted. She will make this dark world a better place one day by stopping the right person.

There was almost dead silence in the throne room. Except for my mother's voice echoing in my head over and over. And except for Crescentia's loud, choked breathing.

My sister sank to her knees. She had her wide gaze fixed down on her chest.

At the edge of my consciousness, I realized Nicolas moving again beside me. He pushed past me and stepped forward, stepping past my sister and heading toward Cephas.

Meaningless. My eyes were immediately back on my sister. Hesitantly, I took a few small steps forward.

I should feel satisfaction, or at least a touch of satisfaction. I would have to think of all that Crescentia had done wrong. Of my parents. Of my long journey that I had taken for them for nothing. Of Deidamia, who had died on the way to her. Of how she had supported Cephas in my torture.

But I didn't feel any of that. I felt heartbreak and horror and a grief that was tearing me apart. I felt guilt that was even now eating deep into my guts and would hold me clutched for the rest of my life.

By the time I reached Crescentia, my fingers were trembling and my eyes were filled with tears. As I blinked, wet drops ran down my cheeks and my vision cleared.

My sister toppled over backwards. Facing the ceiling, she lay on the floor until I knelt down to her and pulled her head onto my legs.

Crescentia was still alive. Her eyes were clearly fixed on me. My tears fell on her beautiful face and tender skin, but still she did not flinch.

This was all my fault. If I had paid more attention to my little sister, maybe none of this would have happened. If she hadn't felt like she was invisible and insignificant, then maybe the urge for power wouldn't have arisen in her. If I had tried to truly understand her, then she would not have come to hate me.

I was aware that I was largely to blame for her development. But I also knew that Crescentia still did not deserve my blind loyalty. It had been her decision to kill her family. It had been her will to harm others in order to gain more power herself.

My loyalty was deserved by my kingdom. My dead parents and the fallen soldiers Crescentia had been responsible for. My loyalty was to all of Spero. The witches. And Nicolas.

The days were gone when I was blindly and unquestioningly loyal. Crescentia had to be stopped. She had already become too addicted to the dark side of the Force. She would have done anything, regardless of others, to get on the throne. She would have continued Cephas' reign of terror on his throne.

I knew that because I had been in her soul. I had seen and felt it. At that time, I had only not wanted to admit it.

Voices came to my consciousness. When I looked up and to the side, Nicolas and Cephas were standing in front of each other. Nicolas had taken off his helmet and his breastplate. Apparently he had challenged Cephas to a fair duel.

With a shaky breath, I looked back down and blinked away more tears. "I'm so sorry, Crescentia," I whispered, brushing a fine strand of hair from her face. Crescentia had stopped blinking. My sister was dead.

With my throat on fire, I suppressed a sob. Gently, I closed her eyelids with my fingertips.

In the background, I heard swords clashing. Slowly, I raised my head and watched the two kings in their final battle. Nicolas had trained for this one moment. Every day since his parents had been murdered.

Had Nicolas actually asked Cephas to kill his father? And if so, was he any better than Crescentia?

Briefly, I closed my eyes. I felt as if I could feel the thick scars and welts of whip lashes under my fingertips up until now. His back. It had told me a story I had never known through his eyes.

Crescentia had wanted to be seen. Nicolas had perhaps simply wanted to be freed.

When I opened my eyes again, Nicolas swung his sword so violently that the hilt of the enemies weapon was torn from Cephas' hand. The sharp blade slid up in my direction and came to rest on the marble floor just in front of me.

Cephas was disarmed. And yet his eyes darted back and forth between Nicolas and his sword.

As Cephas walked toward his weapon, I let Crescentia's head drop from my legs. I stood up, took a step forward and put my foot on his weapon just as he reached for it.

In mid-motion, Cephas stopped and looked up at me. As I stood on his weapon like this, he suddenly seemed very small and pathetic.

Without his armies and without his witch and without his sword, Cephas was nothing. He was nothing but a powerless, pathetic man full of hatred and evil.

Hectically, the king stepped back and looked around the room. The doors were overgrown with stones. No one could get in or out anymore. No one would rush to his aid. Not even Xerxa.

The curse had been Cepha's death sentence. But what exactly was the curse?

Nicolas and I were.

Slowly, Nicolas walked toward Cephas. Reluctantly, Cephas turned to face the winner of the duel.

"On your knees," Nicolas demanded. The sharp blade of the sword in his hands gleamed menacingly.

"Wherever I go after I die," Cephas spoke as he lowered himself to his knees. "I will find a way to track you down and kill you."

"Wherever you go, Cephas, you will no longer be able to wield a sword." Nicolas' voice was cold. He didn't hesitate before raising the sword and sending it hurtling downward.

"This is for my mother."

Nicolas had cut off Cephas' left arm. Cephas screamed fearfully and darkly at the top of his lungs.

"This one is for Victorine." Nicolas let the sword race down again. Cephas' right, severed arm hit the marble floor. Blood poured from both stumps below his shoulders.

"And this is for all our land." One last time, Nicolas swung his sword and cut off Cephas' head with a powerful, purposeful motion.

Once again there was dead silence in the throne room. I could not take my eyes off Cephas's severed head, the opening of whose neck was pointing toward me. It was over. Cephas was dead.

I winced a little when Nicolas suddenly stood before me. I had been so absorbed in the sight that I hadn't noticed him coming toward me. Had this all really happened?

"Let's go," Nicolas spoke.

The stones around the wooden doors slowly retreated, clearing the exits for us.

Wordlessly, I shook my head. My throat was still burning. I stood next to the dead body of my sister, whom I had killed with my own hands. My legs felt weak and my breathing was still shallow.

Slowly, I turned around and walked up the stairs to the throne.

Silently, Nicolas followed me until we reached the top and circled the throne. On the stony wall behind it, I activated the hidden switch between the uneven stones that I had seen in Cepha's mind.

Nicolas looked at me for a moment. His dark hair was a mess and his prominent face was splattered with Cepha's blood. Then he pushed in front of me and entered the room that had opened before us.

I remained standing in the doorway while Nicolas paced up and down the room, carefully searching the crowded shelves with his eyes. Finally he found what he was looking for.

As he approached me, he held out an object to me. It was my father's crown. "You should give this to your brother," Nicolas said softly.

That's right. Now it was Darius' crown.

Hesitantly, I took the cold, gold-colored symbol of power. Nicolas had also retrieved the crowns of Sanguis. His mother's crown and his father's crown. "And now let us go," Nicolas spoke softly.

Wordlessly, I nodded. I noticed Nicolas walking beside me, shielding me from looking at my sister's corpse. But it was no use. I knew perfectly well that she was lying there. And that the image would haunt me for the rest of my life.

We opened the doors of the throne room. Nicolas led me down the corridors. I didn't even know exactly where I was anymore. I was so tired and exhausted that I didn't even realize exactly the aches and pains I had all over my body.

Limping a little, I pulled my leg forward. I wondered what signs my body would take from this fight. A scar on my thigh. A scar on my forehead. A bald head whose hair I never wanted to see again in my life.

It could have ended much worse.

When we were almost at the exit, two people came towards us. It was Vindicta, who was supported by a witch unknown to me. The leader held a hand on her hip, where the black cloak was burned a little. With her black eyes she looked at me and nodded.

I nodded back, amazed by the illusion I had for a second. Witches didn't have colored eyes. Vindicta's eyes had not been gold for a second. I must have been more exhausted than previously thought.

From another direction, some soldiers came toward us, bearing the crests of Spero and Sanguis. Behind them ran weakened people in rags. "King Nicolas," a soldier came forward with his stand erect. "We have freed all the prisoners of Tenebris and will escort them outside."

"Very well done," Nicolas spoke up beside me.

The soldier could not prevent a surprised widening of his eyes. Apparently, such kind words were rare from King Nicolas.

I hoped his soldiers would hear them more often from now on.

We let the prisoners go ahead and watched as they finally, after what surely felt like an infinity, saw the sky again.

I could feel Nicolas looking at me. So I took my eyes off the freed people and looked at the king beside me.

"Would you like to go outside?" he asked me.

For a short while I remained standing beside him without an answer, then I reached out my hand and gently wiped Cepha's blood from his face with my fingertips. "The war is over, Nicolas," I whispered. Actually, I whispered it more to myself. Actually, I was just now coming to understand it as that.

The war was over. And I wanted to see Nicolas without blood on his face.

"Yes, it is." Nicolas put his hand on my fingers on his face and gently stroked my skin for a moment. Then he turned toward the exit and matched my slow steps.

Side by side, we strode through the huge front door.

The cloud cover had broken and showed us a pale blue sky. The evening sun gave us the rest of its soft, warm light.

Shortly after taking a few steps out of the front gate, we found ourselves in the castle courtyard. Nicolas and I stopped. It was over. The war was over out here, too.

And they were already waiting for us.

Hundreds of soldiers, who, at the sight of us, raised their flags and swords, loudly and triumphant.

My brother Darius, who was looking at me with a proud expression on his face.

Vane and Klara, who stood side by side and fell laughing into each other's arms at the sight of us.

Orestes, who helped Tryphosa bandage her injured hand, lifting one corner of his mouth and waving at us.

Tryphosa, who raised her uninjured hand into a fist and roared triumphantly toward the sky.

Hekate, in her true, ancient witch form, sat on her huge raven and slowly clapped her hands.

Vindicta, who sat down exhausted on the ground and expressed her gratitude with a formal nod.

The black dragon, which held itself in the air above us with powerful wing beats.

I imagined how Deidamia and my mother and father were also waiting for me here. How Deidamia would flap her wings excitedly and stand on her hind legs. How my father would proudly watch me with an upright gait. How my mother would rush up to me and take me in her arms.

They and all the other people and beings here would forever have a permanent place in my heart. And especially Nicolas.

In a rush of emotions, the next events took their course. I was relieved when I was able to present Darius with his rightful crown. Saddened when I told him of Crescentia's death. Amused when Orestes and Tryphosa returned after being convinced of Cepha's corpse. Surprised when I discovered golden sparks in Vindicta's eyes again as she said goodbye to me. Rejecting when Hekate invited me for another trip to hell. Proud when Vane and Klara told me how they had saved many residents through the portal. Glad when the black dragon left to find a home for himself.

I would need time to process all of this. But I realized that there would always be more feelings than sadness and pain in my life, too.

"Victorine."

A beautiful, dark voice gently pulled me out of my thoughts. I turned around and was suddenly standing so close to Nicolas that I could effortlessly touch him.

"Before you leave and perhaps disappear into the middle of nowhere to tame dragons and fight injustice, I want to ask you if you will be my wife."

Nicolas had a gentle, serious expression on his face.

His wife? "The Queen of Sanguis?"

Nicolas clearly heard my skeptical undertone and half-smiled, pulling up one corner of his mouth.

A new feeling. I was happy to see his awkward smile.

"Being queen doesn't just mean sitting idly in the throne," he said, trying to convince me more of his proposal. Little did he know that no more convincing was actually needed.

"You could do what you do best as queen."

"And that would be?", I echoed with a smirk.

Nicolas' mouth formed into an honest, open, full smile that made its way straight into my heart and would never leave my head.

"Training our soldiers."

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THE END