The Dragon's Kiss

No, let's trust the emperor.

Kel shook her head, trying to stop her whirling thoughts as she took an unsteady step forward.

Trust the emperor.

Despite her attempts to push her doubts away, there was a single question she couldn't help but ask herself.

If her actions ended up being the catalyst that led directly to the slaughter of all the Subterran people… Could she live with herself?

With each step down toward the main floor, the heaviness hanging over her shoulders seemed to press harder.

The path the emperor had used to lead them back to the main passage was the same route she'd taken with Alaia. She had sworn it was.

So how did they end up on a raised terrace with a perfect view of the main floor--so perfect that Kel could see exactly how many Subterrans were crowded in discontent, poised to charge at any minute?

It was the optimal place to observe the situation below, of course, but Kel almost wished she hadn't seen any of it. She wished she could be blissfully ignorant of every single other person in the world and just enjoy the feeling of Soren's flesh giving way beneath her blade.

But the unsettling feeling that, for the second time, her hands would be sullied with the blood of the innocent, was too nauseating to ignore.

She'd already experienced such a situation once because of Soren. After brutally wiping out Serin's underworld, Soren had turned to her with a sickening smile while slyly shifting his sin into her hands.

Even now, she could vividly remember the feeling of drowning, despite the sturdy dry land holding her feet. Her entire chest had filled with something dark and acrid, making her feel like gagging and gasping for air at the same time.

Surely, if she had to go through it again, without Lila or Barclay this time, she would suffocate to death.

With a small tap, Kel's feet finally landed on the familiar brickwork of the main floor. She couldn't see anything anymore, aside from the row of Serin soldiers directly in front of her. Letting out a small breath, she slowly spun toward where she knew the emperor was waiting.

Just as they had done for their leader, the knights all parted, slowly revealing a path. At the end stood the emperor, one hand folded neatly behind his back, and the other gently extended toward Kel.

She couldn't see his features well from the distance between them, but Kel could already picture the hand reached out to her. The emperor's pale thin fingers would be curled ever so slightly, ready to wrap around her own when she placed them in his palm. His expression was probably the same unreadable look she'd grown used to.

Even from so far away and in such a peculiar situation, every part of the emperor's posture was comfortingly familiar.

Clenching her fist to her chest, Kel tried one last time to clear her mind.

No matter what happened, the emperor wouldn't let her drown, right?

In this strange and foreign place, were those fiery scarlet eyes, drawing closer with each of her hesitant steps, the only thing she could trust?

Feeling some kind of small reassurance, Kel straightened her shoulders and walked forward more quickly, her gaze locked on the Dragon Emperor. When she arrived, just as she had predicted, the man grasped her hand in his, and brought her before Soren.

​ Silence immediately fell over the Subterrans at the appearance of Kel's honey-colored hair. They all watched her intently, waiting with bated breath to see her next move.

Yielding her back to the piercing gazes, Kel turned her focus to Soren. The man was in even worse shape than she'd originally suspected. With such glaring wounds covering his body, the blood dried to varying degrees of brown, she could easily envision how the struggle must have played out to subdue the tricky man.

There was no doubt he put up a decent fight in the beginning, judging by the offensive wounds covering his hands and wrists, but it wasn't long before one of Roland's men landed a solid blow behind his left knee. The marks on his neck suggested that, after he was knocked to the ground, he was restrained by one of the knight's steely boot pressing against his throat while multiple blows were delivered to his arms, torso and head.

With a fresh stream of blood dripping from his forehead into the corner of his eye and welling up like crimson tears, Soren smirked at Kel as she studied him.

Was he truly carefree enough to make such a face at a time like this, Kel wondered, or was he hiding behind a well-practiced facade.

Either way, her fingers itched to wipe that sickening smile away permanently.

But the apprehensive eyes stinging her back called loudly for her attention.

As she slowly turned again to face the Subterrans, her gaze happened to land on the body of the woman who'd been cut down by the knights earlier when she charged for the emperor.

Swallowing a gasp, Kel froze.

The short, choppy brown hair and charming clusters of freckles were unmistakable. Eyes that Kel had seen dance with brightness and shine with solemness were now dull and empty.

"Alaia?" she whispered, bringing a hand to her mouth.

It wasn't as if she'd ever been friends with the girl. She didn't even know anything about her, but for some reason, seeing a familiar face lying there lifelessly, rather than a stranger, made Kel's throat burn bitterly.

She had already known of the girl's devotion to Soren. Alaia's willingness to die in such a hopeless situation shouldn't be such a shock.

Still, something deep inside her chest seemed to crack at the sight of it.

A slight nudge suddenly broke Kel's daze. She flinched and looked to see Roland standing next to her. When he had her attention, he nodded at her and then used his eyes to motion to the emperor.

Following his signal, Kel noticed the emperor holding out a spotless silver sword with a gleaming obsidian hilt.

Now's not the time to feel sorry for that woman, Kel told herself, reaching for the sword.

Facing Soren once again, she carefully raised the blade above her head while a soldier she didn't recognize loudly recited a list of Soren's crimes against the empire.

The sword itself was an exceptionally crafted weapon. It was weighted perfectly and would, no doubt, cut smoothly and quickly. The flawless blade extending from the hilt should have been effortless to wield, but somehow, Kel felt her arm throbbing under its weight.

"Proceed!"

It was the signal to commence with the execution.

Kel took one last shaky breath before finally sending the blade on its descent.