Golden light flooded into the cell. I raised an arm and covered my eyes as they began to water. How long had I been in here for?

"General." A woman with cropped silver hair and warm brown skin rushed into the cell along with the firelight.

"Commander Silviya." I nodded my head, giving her permission to speak, and stared at her panting form.

Commander Silviya was my second in command, as well as a close friend. We both had joined the Heist at around the same time, and have been friends ever since. She was the only one who knew my mother had died today.

"General," she saluted. "You've received a letter."

My lower lip curled, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. To barge in here because one of the trainees were injured, I might have excepted, to barge in because Zenon—another one of our close friends—had gotten himself a boyfriend, I definitely would've excepted, to barge in to see if I was alright, I also might've excepted, but to barge in for a letter... Silvie knew better than to do that.

I turned my back to her, and faced the man. I had to finish up quickly, only then would I get my well deserved mourning time. "Dismissed." I told her as I flipped the hammer in my hand.

The light didn't go, and footsteps weren't sounded. I turned my head, and found Silviya still standing there, saluting.

I said, "Dismissed," the same time she said, "It's from One Of The Vermin, General."

In camp, no matter who was present or where one was, everyone always referred to the current Yerpen monarch as Vermin, his current heir being One Of The Vermin.

I slowly pivoted. "What?" Had I heard her right?

"The letter's from One Of The Vermin." She dipped her chin a fraction of an inch, looking into my eyes.

My mind was at a blank. I couldn't fathom a reason for the prince to send a letter, much less one specifically to me. It wasn't normal for the heir to send a letter. In the instances that letters were received from the Yerpen, they were always sent from the king, or one of his viziers. Never the prince.

The better question was why the prince had sent a letter specifically to me, and not the heads of the Anarchy Heist. In the rare instances letters were sent, they were sent to the heads of the Heist, not to the top generals. Not to a specific general. Was the prince trying to threaten me? What would he have as leverage? Silviya was right here, and if any members from my Point Unit had been kidnapped, word would've spread faster than one could blink.

Maybe Silviya was joking. Or she had made up the letter to give me a break. It was something she'd do.

"Commander, you're joking?" I asked.

"No, Mam." She slapped her foot onto the damp cobblestone, saluting.

I clenched my jaw, and looked back at the man, who was listening all too eagerly.

I knew it.

That lying scoundrel. "Send Lieutenant Harron to deal with him." I turned back to Silviya, and dropped the hammer onto the floor. It clattered onto the floor, the sound of metal on stone ringing through the torture cell. It was still softer than his screams.

My superiors would have to forgive me for leaving him. If the letter was real and not a mad prank, they would've been curious too. But the letter was addressed to me, and only I would decide whether the contents were personal or not.

As we began to leave, the sound of the man pulling at his shackles and laboured breath rose. "No." He begged. "NO." He screamed as the door to the cell thudded shut.

His pleas went unanswered, and his screams echoed through the underground tunnel we were in. The door reverberated through the hall, ringing through the silence.

Silviya and I stared at each other, neither willing to speak first. Out of the dim lighting of the cell, her features were more clear. Flames danced in her cropped silver hair, the scar that ran from the bottom of her ear to somewhere below her uniform stark in the flames. She looked beautiful, in her own rugged warrior way.

"So how are you holding up?" She asked, breaking the silence first.

I sighed and rubbed my face. "I'm fine, I guess."

"It's fucking bullshit that they had to make you work today." She spat.

"I know." I groaned and pulled at my hair.

"Bullshit." She seethed.

I nodded my head in agreement, and rested my head on her shoulder.

She wrapped an arm around me, and I glanced up to find her staring at me. Her brown eyes caught the passing sconces of fire, and it danced around in them, mesmerising me enough to tell myself: What are you fucking doing, Ophelia?

I pulled away from her, and led myself forward. "So what exactly is in this letter of his?"

Her eyes flickered—though that may have been the flames, I was pretty sure it wasn't—and she went with the subject change. "We haven't opened it yet." Her tone turned smooth, and I swore I heard a note of disappointment in it. "We were waiting for you."

"You've assembled the rest?" The rest, meaning the other members of the Point Unit—my inner circle. My Point Unit consisted of the Heist's fiercest, most deadly warriors. Including me, of course. The Point Unit included my top commanders, and the Point Division consisted of all the other warriors, foot soldiers and recruits.

"Yeah, they're all waiting for us in the meeting tent." She inclined her head, a piece of her silver hair falling in front of her face.

"Then we must not keep them from awaiting our astounding presences any longer." I sighed dramatically, jogging in front of her.

She snorted, and reached me. "But seriously, 'Pheels, are you sure you're fine?" She lay a finger on my shoulder.

I stopped. "I said I'm fine, Commander." I pulled away. I lifted my chin, picking up my pace.

I knew she was just checking up on me, seeing if I was okay. But who was okay if their mother died? What could she have said that could've made it okay? She was just trying to help, but what if someone saw her 'helping' me, and used the advantage for themselves? Once they used the advantage, my life could've been at risk, my mother's peace of mind that the empire was dead would've been at risk.

It was better to keep your emotions on a tight leash. A rabid dog could bite, yes, but the owner of said dog could also get hurt if it was put down. It was better to leash the dog than let it run rampant, letting it torment you so others couldn't.

It sounded insane, but what was a little in this world of madness?

My feet hit the hard soil, dust rose and fell in its wake. Silviya walked silently behind me, so silent that I nearly looked back. Nearly. But Silviya was strong, and it wasn't possible for her to be kidnapped or killed in the very base. She could've turned around, but I had a feeling she hadn't.

Soon, the sun fell in streaks of gold. I raised an arm and shielded my eyes from its wrath. I blinked a few times. Even after the light of the fire in the tunnel, my eyes still hadn't adjusted. I still couldn't hear Silviya, and this time I actually did turn around.

My breath caught and my heart stopped for a second.

She wiped sweat from her brow, jogging up the last stretch of the tunnel. Her silver hair caught the sun, and it shone like a fucking star. Her skin glowed, armour sparkling delicately. She didn't look close to the warrior she was supposed to be. She looked immortal, like she wasn't from this earth. Every head turned toward her, and she smiled at every one of them.

Silviya's head started to turn my way, and I swiftly shifted my gaze away. I looked forward, then turned back to her. "Quit making a show and hurry your ass up."

She rolled her eyes and jogged toward me. I turned left, toward the meeting tent.

We reached it in a few minutes with minimal conversation. I shouldered through the thick canvas flaps, and found the rest of my Point Unit waiting inside.

Everyone shot from their seats as I entered. They all stomped their feet onto the wooden floor in unison, saluting and shouting, "General."

"Sit." I commanded. I didn't bother to look at them as I spoke. A new plan had formed in the silence. I would read the letter, if the contents were too 'much' then I'd say everyone could take a break to process the contents of the letter. Bingo.

Everyone shuffled for their seats, and I pulled a chair to the head of the table, satisfied with my new plan. A silly letter from the heir was not at the top of my mind.

People muttered, "Hey, Silvs," as Silviya entered. She didn't say anything, instead she took the seat next to mine.

"Letter?" I asked, and my third in command, Zenon, tossed the letter to me. "Here, General." He said as the letter flew through the air, falling into my hands.

"Thanks," I muttered as I grabbed one of my daggers and tore the seal with the tip. The knife cut through the wax smoothly, and I placed it onto the table as I started to read the letter. The letter read:

Dear Ophelia Xander, General and leader to the Point Unit and Division of the Anarchy Heist,

This is the Crown Heir to the Yerpen. I have written this letter to propose a deal. But I am not stupid enough to propose the deal on a piece of parchment. I'd like to meet with you in person. Meet me at the Veshen temple in Malel tomorrow night, at nightfall. You know, the temple you and yours decided to blow up on the Winter Solstice last year?

Yours most dearly,

Alaric Vermeer Yerpen, Crown Heir to the Yerpen monarchy, eldest son to Maren Yerpen.

P.S

Bring no backup.

I read the letter once. Read it twice. Read it thrice, and a laugh bubbled up my throat as my eyes passed over the same handwriting, the same words, for a fourth time. I read it a fourth time, and a crow's laugh crawled its way through my throat. I was cackling, my head tipped back, throat stretching. All around me, everyone stared at me like I was mad. Maybe I was. But I knew the prince definitely was. Was the prince stupid? Did he really think I was going to make some deal with him just because he asked me to? There was no way in fucking hell I was making a deal with him. He killed my mother. Burned her. It was as much his and his entire fucking family's fault as it was my father's. Why I even called him my father, I didn't fucking know.

"Pass the letter." Silviya stretched her hand out to me.

I snorted, saying, "Here." I gave the letter to her, and watched as her eyes swept side to side, widening as she finished the letter. "Is the prince drunk?" Was all she said. She threw the letter onto the table, and slumped into her chair.

Zenon snorted from the left. "What, is the prince trying to court Ophelia or something?" He chuckled, a few others joining him.

I rolled my eyes at the thought. But what if... What if the prince was trying to ask me out? The probability of that was slim, but... The Veshen temple was the temple dedicated to the goddess Vesha, goddess of love and beauty. The prince had asked me to come alone, and at night with no back up to the goddess of love's temple.

Oh fuck, what if he was asking me out?

Silviya must've seen the gears whirring in my brain, because she thumped the arm of her chair. She choked on a laugh, "Maybe." She answered Zenon, banging the arm of her chair as she began to howl with laughter.

"Show me the fucking letter." Zenon grinned from ear to ear, snatching the letter from the table with so much force it looked like it might've torn.

I didn't bother to look at him as he read it. I covered my face with my hands and curled in my seat. The moment he started wheezing was when I knew he'd finished reading it. "Looks like Ophelia's having a date tomorrow." He wheezed again, it sounded so bad that I nearly felt bad for the poor guy. Nearly.

"It's General to you, Commander." I sighed, peeling my hands from my face.

He straightened. "Yes, General."

The letter could have been the prince asking me out. But why would the prince want to ask me out? I don't say this because I think I'm not worth him—in fact, he's not worth me—but because the prince would have no sane reason to. Rumour had left the castle that the prince had a lover, and that his father had killed him.

He fucking deserved it. As much as my father was to blame for my mother's death, it was as much his fault as it was my father's. That night, my father had forced me to get ready to go to a banquet. I didn't want to go, my mother had just died, after all. But I went, and found the King there, raising a toast to his son. For sentencing his first person to death that day. It was when his son came up to me and began to show off, saying how he'd sentenced his first person to death, how he'd sentenced some 'random' woman called Kalonice Xander Ambrosius to death, when I'd run away. He'd sentenced my mother to death. And had the nerve to tell it to my face. He didn't know she was my mother, but that shouldn't have made a difference. He had asked where my mother was, I punched him in the face and ran to my room. I locked the doors, and snuck out the window.

"Show the letter." People demanded for the letter, and it was passed around, leaving and arriving in the hands of a different person within minutes, and soon the whole room was cracking up.

"Is this a joke?"

"Has the prince lost his brain? What the fuck was he thinking, sending a letter to make some deal of his so bluntly?"

"When's the wedding?"

"We better be invited to it."

"What prank is this?"

"Is the heir okay? This isn't normal."

"Does he think we're that fucking stupid? We're the goddamn Point Unit."

"The General might have someone to warm her bed, after all."

On and on the laughter and comments went. One would've thought we were a group of toddlers. Better—teenagers. It was understandable. We were just a bunch of killing machines who happened to have been experts at battle. No one said we were mature. Alas, someone had to be the mother of the group.

"Quiet." I said. My eyes weren't on them. My dagger was in my hand, and I was carving the arm of the chair. I pressed the tip into the wood, watched as it sunk through and marred it.

The room jumped to their feet. "Yes, Commander." They all saluted, stomping their feet on the ground. My eye twitched, and they slowly rose from my carving to meet the stares of every person in the room.

"I said," I took in a breath, and left my dagger standing by the tip on the arm of the chair as I got up. "Quiet, does stomping your feet on the ground and shouting "Yes, Commander" like preschool children shouting for a piece of chocolate quiet to you?" No one answered. "Hmm?"

Everyone stayed quiet. "That's what I thought." I scoffed, and sat in my seat again. No one moved, and I said, "Sit, now, would you?"

Everyone immediately shuffled to their seats. "Now," I traced a circle on the wood. "Let's have a proper discussion on the letter, and not act like children."

Mouths opened, but I slammed my hand on the table. "Raise your fucking hands if you want to speak," I sighed. People grumbled, but hands slowly rose.

Nearly everyone's hands were raised, only a few people hadn't raised their hands. Someone snickered from the back, and my gaze immediately fell to them. "Mabel," I cocked my head toward her. "What do you think about the letter?" Everyone's hands fell, and Mabel got up from her seat.

Mabel smirked at me as she got up from the chair. She started walking around the room, and we all stared at her, waiting. "So the prince wants to make a bargain, that much is obvious. But the way he phrased the letter made it seem like he was... angry, mad." She crossed her arm, and began to tap her foot on the ground. "Based on the few correspondences I've seen, the prince never directly wrote and sent a letter. There was always a screening process, and it was the king who signed off, not the prince."

I leaned back in my chair, and crossed my arms. "What are you getting at, M?"

"I'm saying that the prince is going through some sort of... erm, emotional time, and that he probably sent the letter without telling his father."

Zenon raised his hand. I dipped my chin, and let him speak. "But the prince never does anything without telling his darling father. He's a fucking dog." Zenon spat.

"There are rumours going around that the prince just lost a lover." Mabel reminded him.

Zenon scoffed. "It's not like he would've cared anyway, this is the same man we saw order a village, a damn city to burn."

"But maybe the prince has changed? Scratch that, Zenon's right." Mabel flung her arms out, and sat back in her seat.

I rose from my chair. "So, we'll send a letter to his dear father, and ask him about the letter. If Mabel was right, then the prince probably dies. If Zenon was right, we would know what sort of deal we're talking about."

"It's a win-win." Silviya sighed.

"So it is. Let's start phrasing this letter."

_____

The sun had set when we'd finished, and the stars had started to wink into the night sky. I watched them as I walked to my tent, searching the skies for a constellation. There.

It was random. It made no sense. No one would've even thought it was a constellation. But I knew it was.

My mother and I had snuck out of the palace one night. We were giggling and laughing all the way, walking through the gardens. We had laid down on the grass, watching the sky. She was talking about the constellations, and I'd said I wanted one. And my mother had laughed and pointed up to the sky. "You see that one, my sweet flower? That one is our constellation. Don't tell your father though." I had laughed, and promised not to tell him. I was glad I didn't tell him. That man didn't deserve to share a constellation with my mother.

A sad smile spread across my face. "How's heaven, Mother?" I whispered as I sat down on the grass behind my tent.

No one answered. But she answered in my head. "My flower, it's lovely, when you die you'll be able to see all of it." She would've said. I wanted to say, "Mother, I'm not going to heaven." But instead, I whispered, "I can't wait to see you again."

"Can't wait to see who again?" I whirled around, and found Silviya, standing and staring at me.

Fuck her. "Fuck you, Silviya, fuck you." I sighed. I fell back onto the grass, and the tiny blades pricked my back and head.

"Sorry, you just seemed... Lonely." She said, coming to lay down beside me.

Because I wanted to be alone.

"Silviya, just leave. Please." I sighed.

"It's not your fault, Ophelia. It's the fucker that sent the letter's fault. You can't blame yourself." She said softly.

I knew it wasn't my fault. It was my father's and the heir. It was their fault. They deserved to die. And I would do anything to make sure it came to that.

How could they? How could they take someone so sweet, so amazing, so wonderful away from this world? That was the Yerpen's problem, they thought that they were superior. That they were considered gods, and that everyone else should consider them as gods. Anyone who didn't, was killed. First it was a few executions, but in just a few months, massacres were happening throughout the country. The country next door didn't bother helping us. They had their own matters to deal with. And it wasn't like they could, not with the humongous range of mountains that divided us.

But I wasn't going to tell Silviya that. "No shit–" Silviya interrupted me by hugging me. It was sudden, and unexpected. I'd hugged people before, but this one caught me off guard. "What's this for?" I asked.

"You're not alone, Ophelia."

Of course I wasn't alone, I had Silviya, Zenon, Mabel and my whole Point Unit.

Of course I wasn't alone, I had myself to deal with. The bitch wouldn't shut up, so I made her. But her voice still sounds, tiny whispers that grow into rebellions that I was forced to shut down.

"Thank you, Commander."

"Anything, General." She said before she left.

I lay there on the grass, staring at the mess of stars that were mine and my mother's constellation.

What did I do to deserve Silviya?