The men lunged forward with unexpected quickness. Alethia tightened her hold on her sword as the prisoner from yesterday slashed at her abdomen. She jumped backward. Instantly, her sword whipped towards his head. 

She had to end this fast if she wanted to help Roxana. 

The prisoner blocked her sword with his dagger. The force of the clash vibrated up her arm. Alethia stepped forward, inching the man back as she reached blindly for the second dagger at her belt. 

His left arm moved towards her, a dagger flashing in the air, and catching her off guard. With barely enough time to spare, she spun out of the way and felt the blade slice across her midriff. Blood rushed to her ears as it spilled from the cut on her stomach. 

The prisoner gave her no reprieve, lunging with blades dancing in the air. Alethia gritted her teeth as she was forced on the defense, blocking his two daggers, which moved at speeds she struggled to keep up with.

Roxana screamed, and Alethia's heart jumped into her throat as she risked a glance to the side. Roxana was on the ground; her dagger was discarded a couple of feet away from her. 

A sharp pain in her arm jolted Alethia back to her own fight. Before she could counter, her sword was hit out of her hand, nearly bending her wrist backward from the impact. Alethia swallowed the grunt of pain that almost erupted as she hastily jumped backward, yanking the last dagger on her belt out of its sheath. 

The prisoner ran forward, his arm swinging to impale his weapon into her chest. She ducked low, swiping her feet against his legs. He slammed to the ground, soil jumping out of his open mouth. She gripped his hair, yanking his head up as hard as she could, and ripped it from his neck with a snarl. She threw his head across the room as the body fell to the ground, staying limp. 

Alethia approached the man who was gripping her sister by the neck, choking the life out of her. Tears flowed out of her eyes as her face turned blue. Roxana's eyes glowed briefly as she struggled, hands outstretched. 

Suddenly the soil from the man's body burst out, hitting Alethia square in the face. She stumbled back in shock. Roxana landed on the body of the man, soil spilling out of it, as she sucked in loud breaths of air. Alethia wiped the dirty soil from her face, pushing the dagger back into her sheath.

A slow clapping drew her attention back to the throne, where her mother watched. "And now, there is one more task ahead of you."

Alethia frowned in confusion. Roxana wrapped her small arms around herself. The green dress she wore was covered in the filth of the dead man—mud and soil. The doors to the throne room opened up, and a person walked in, head covered with a brown cloth bag. They were wearing a servant's uniform: a grey and black dress with black flat shoes. They stopped halfway from the throne, and the doors closed.

Trapped. Alethia was trapped in her mother's schemes. She wanted it to be over. "What do you want us to do?"

"Not us, not this time." Queen Liliana stood from the throne and walked toward Alethia, her heels clicking loudly. "Just you, my dear. I want you to cut her to pieces."

"Her?" Alethia asked, voice trembling slightly. Her mother frowned at the sound of it.

"Have you learned nothing?" The queen's face twisted in anger, and her hand whipped across her daughter's face. The ring on her hand bit into Alethia's cheek, cutting it open. "Don't ask questions. Kill her, or for every moment of hesitation, Roxana will take your punishment as you watch."

Alethia glanced at her sister, who was rocking in place, head bowed into the remnants of the dead body. Alethia walked over to her discarded sword. While putting pressure on the wound across her stomach, she reached down and grasped it. Queen Liliana stood by the hooded person, gripping the cloth bag on their head.

"You want to know who it is?" The queen asked mockingly, "Let me show you."

The queen ripped the bag off to reveal Rebecca. Her freckled face was pale as a ghost, and her eyes were wide enough to see the whites all around.

"Please, Your Majesty," Rebecca began to sob. "I have done nothing. I have served your family for years now. Please, have mercy. Please, princess, have mercy."

"Mercy." The queen started back towards her throne as she tilted her head and let out an empty laugh. "Funny word, isn't it, Alethia?"

"Yes," Alethia said through clenched teeth but made no move to approach Rebecca. Her mother stopped at Roxana's bent form, snatching her up by her slight arm. Roxana flinched and yelped in surprise. The urge to throw a dagger at her mother struck her, and Alethia reached for it. 

The queen kept her back turned away from Alethia as she moved forward, dragging Roxana along with her. "Throw it if you dare, Alethia. But we all know, you don't have it in you. Because if you did, you would have done it a long time ago. So, I suggest you start cutting that girl to shreds before your sister pays the price."

Alethia forced out an angry breath at her mother's words. She was right. As she always was, her mother was right. Alethia pressed her hand tighter to her stomach, the pain clearing away the unwanted emotions churning through her. 

Mercy is for the weak. Emotions are a distraction. The penalty for weakness is death. I must not be weak. 

I must be brutal.