Pollyanna hadn’t slept for an entire day. She was pushing herself as hard as possible to catch up to her charge, who she was sure couldn’t be very far ahead. I have to catch them before they make it to the castle--convince him to go elsewhere.

Cold wind froze her ears, making her cheeks dry and red as she sped through the dark night—following the wet path that would lead to the castle. She took deep breaths as her sore legs quivered beneath her.

Her muscles were as good and powerful as ever, but her head just wasn’t in the game.

She took a break for a moment, leaning against a tree on the side of the path. She panted and rubbed one of her arms self-consciously as her mind ever turned to unpleasant thoughts.

She blinked tiredly.

She thought of the two years she had spent in a prison of her own. She didn’t fight at all while she was in there; she let the dwarven guards kick her, punch her, and stab her complacently while she was chained up, wallowing in the knowledge that she had failed to protect the Arrozan Royal Family, despite her invincibility.

She grunted furiously when she thought of it, unsheathed her blade, and sliced at the tree she was leaning against repeatedly until the trunk was separated from the stump.

She panted heavily, clenching her jaw. Her errant thoughts led her elsewhere, then, to a far more desirable place. Fjorn…

He mashed his lips against hers, shoving her down on the bed. She reached out, running her hands down the sides of his body as he leaned in for another kiss.

She gasped as she reached out, trying to shove him playfully off of her to madden him, only to find she was not in the past at all, and that she was shoving air aside. She shivered, sitting on the stump of the tree she had cut down.

Pollyanna sightlessly let her mind drift from memory-to-memory. She thought of dragons and wyverns she had slain, she thought of men who looked her up and down provocatively but who she never dared touch, and she thought of her one failure. She remembered Eory being dragged away from his family to be locked away while his family was being beheaded.

His screaming tore through her mind and pierced the cold air.

Pollyanna gasped and realized she was just hallucinating.

She massaged her temples. “I can’t believe I failed. I am the Arrozan Sword, and there is no greater thing in the world than a sword.”

Yes...

She knew there was no greater thing than a sword. It could be used to attack, protect, and had no vile intentions--it merely did what its master commanded.

Pollyanna scowled determinedly. It can be used to avenge, too.

She wallowed in frustrated misery for a moment longer before standing up unsteadily. “I haven’t got time to be wallowing like a goddamned woman.”

Pollyanna sheathed her sword. I’m coming, Eory. I have to stop you from going to the ball. The king will definitely execute you. If I have to kill everyone in that castle, I will.

She propelled herself forward again.