Chapter 3

Chapter 3

As Amasir stayed seated inside the tent, she stared at the fly buzzing around her. Her eyes were swollen and weary, filled with tears that wouldn't fall.

She wished she could cry.

She wished she could scream.

But it was like she was still in the dream. A dream she wished to wake from soon. The death of her mother affected her so badly. She felt a throbbing headache every time she thought about her mother.

Pain.

Anger.

That was all she'd felt the whole week since she lost her mother. She was filled with so much anger.

Maybe it was because she was unable to heal her mother. And even when the guard pressured her that they needed to bury her mother by the roadside and leave, she refused. Her mother deserved to be buried next to her husband, the former King. But going to the palace was a big risk, as she would be killed. Instead, her mother was taken to her village, Riyanal where she was cremated and the ashes was sent back to her.

It wasn't her choice not to attend her mother's cremation. But Mikhaz had refused to let her go with him because it was too risky. Ravar and her army could be anywhere.

She had been sleeping a lot these days, and she suspected that one of the maids had drugged her so she could rest more. She could barely remember what had happened in the past few days. And anytime Amasir went to sleep, she dreamed of dragons—big dragons flying and making sounds in the sky.

She wished her mother had never been on the battlefield, fighting against Ravar and her armies.

She wished... she wished they had found a cure for the poison that killed her mother. If only her mother had endured for some time, they would have returned to Suvark, and find an antidote for the poison.

However, a tiny voice at the back of her head whispered that death could have still found a way to reach her mother. Her mother was old. She had seen many winters. But this was not how she'd expected her mother would die.

In the days she spent in the tent, she couldn't help but acknowledge what she would do to Ravar and her son—and how she would feel about it.

There would be no ounce of regret after killing them. And then, she would ascend the throne as the Queen and rightful ruler.

Her fingernails dug into her skin. She was really going to kill them. She wished she could do it now, and the thought disturbed her mind.

All she had inside her were the thoughts, the pain, and the anger.

She wanted to find every single person who contributed to her mother's death and kill them.

She'd tried to escape the third night after her mother's death to kill Ravar and her son. She'd worn the maid's cloak to disguise herself. She'd planned to pay Ravar a visit in her sleep.

Gamaal—her mother's blood was on Ravar's hands. She'd been her mother's best friend and servant until she became the King's second wife and bore him a son. Everything changed after that.

Mikhaz had caught her halfway down the road and dragged her back to the tent. He appointed guards in front of the tent to watch her just in case she plans to leave again.

And so, she sat down, crying.

Each night, she had been awake, crying and mourning her mother's death.

She knew if Ravar's army were to catch up with them first, her guards would be killed, and she would be dragged to the palace and punished. And her punishment was death. Death—because in order for Rugald to be King, they would have to kill her since she has royal blood. Not just any royal blood, but the blood of two powerful gods.

Unlike her, Ravar was not a god, so her son was half-immortal.

He was weak and did not possess any much power. She knew this because she'd seen him countless times—when she'd pretended to be a maid and would spy on him during his training.

He was weak and pathetic, just like his mother.

Footsteps drew her attention, and Amasir turned her head to the entrance of the tent to see Mikhaz walk in. He was dressed in the uniform of a soldier—all black.

A knot formed in her back as they stared at each other from across the tent. Ever since her mother's death, he had always been quiet around her. He never spoke a word.

And now, he said nothing as he stood there. His arms were crossed against his chest. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead. He raised a brow.

"What?" Amasir asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

He shook his head.

"Then why are you here?" she asked.

"You have not been well," he said. "Do I need a reason to come here?"

"Yes."

"I'm your soldier."

"Why are you here, Mikhaz?" she asked.

"I'm checking to see how you are doing," he replied.

"Are you just checking up on me, or are you here to see if I have escaped?"

"There is no way you would be able to get out of this tent with the soldiers around," he replied.

"I am a god. I have enough power to kill every single guard here."

"I think this is the first long conversation we have had since the Khagan's death," he said, his voice dropping low. "I hope you are doing well."

"I am fine."

"Alright then," he cleared his throat. "A lot happened while you were mourning the Queen's death."

"What happened?"

"Queen Ravar and her son, Rugald, have been notified of the your mother's death."

The message must have been sent as soon as her mother was laid to rest. It could have been delivered through the spies around.

"They believe that with your mother gone, the war will cease because she started it."

"Ravar started the war when she sent soldiers to my mother's chamber that night," Amasir said with a deep frown.

"Well, they have fixed a date for the coronation ceremony of the crowned prince, Rugald. Ravar expects you there to submit yourself and acknowledge Rugald as King, or you will be killed."

"Nonsense!"

"That is the reason I came here. We need to leave. This place is not safe for you."

Amasir knew this would happen, but she never thought it would be this fast. And Ravar thinks she can end the war anytime and crown her son as King

Turning her gaze back to Mikhaz, she asked, "When do we leave for the camp?"

"Tomorrow," he answered. "We must leave at sunrise."