𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘. 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.
It's the beginning of a new age when Jaylah Imperatrix seemingly returns from the dead to reclaim her throne. And in perfect timing.
In her absence, evil has be...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Act 3 Chapter 133 JAYLAH
Jaylah was walking alone when she heard a call behind her. It was faint, but she turned anyway, hoping she was not so tired she was imagining false voices. At first, she saw no one amongst the passerby that wanted her attention—
No, there was a servant she did not know barreling down the hallway, aimed for her. She stopped, well aware no servant would dare speak to her unless it was an emergency.
"Your Majesty," the man called. "Your Majesty, it's the Czar! He's getting revenge for his murdered advisor."
Her fear was ramping up, making her hands clammy. "I did not murder any of his advisors." Was this another scenario that he had created to frame her?
"I was delivering supplies past the place where the body lay. It was horrific." His voice wavered with nausea, and a few of the passerby looked back. "The Czar will absolutely want to give punishment for how torturous it had to have been."
"It was not me," she insisted, forgetting she was speaking that way to a servant until it was already said.
"He doesn't seem to know that. We heard his men making plans to deliver a last-minute speech announcing the murder at your hands to the public."
Jaylah's heart stopped mid-beat. "When?"
"Now," he wailed. "Hurry to the west wing on the fourth story."
She did not run, but she did storm upstairs as fast as she could. The further she ventured, the more tense her people seemed to become as she passed them by. Something heavy clearly loomed in the air. Many were heading in the same direction as her, as if to watch the spectacle unfold. As if this even was a spectacle and not a purposeful massacre of her character.
There was a cluster of people ahead, and she nearly screamed at them for blocking her path until she saw the looks on their faces. A few turned to her with their condolences written in the sad turn of their lips. She had to bite her own to keep from yelling, What is it? I cannot take any more of this!
But then she saw a body crumpled on the floor.
No. No no no no no—
She took one look at the shiny, perfectly-kept hair on its limp head and knew. Antinoch.
All court etiquette was forgotten when she took in the inhuman way Antinoch was splayed. She had been beaten and left for... Jaylah knelt by her side to check her pulse. She had to wait for ten seconds to even feel the faintness of it.
Everyone was staring at her. Were they pleased that she had suffered another loss? Did they all want to gleefully watch on to see whether this was the blow that finally broke her?
She was three seconds from swinging her blade to make them step away. Or to at least make them scared enough to stop treating her like an animal in an exhibit. If they died, good. If Antinoch was going to be gone, why did anyone else get to stay alive?
Putting her hands underneath Antinoch's armpits, Jaylah half hoisted, half dragged her away from those eyes. Her body was so light in Jaylah's arms, but Jaylah's shaky legs only took them as far as a nearby alcove before giving out. Her palm supported the back of Antinoch's head as she tried to lay her out as gently as possible. "Stay with me, stay with me," she whispered, but it felt like begging.
Antinoch's eyes remained closed, but her lips fell apart. "I...I tried to stop him." Jaylah saw the redness of blood on her tongue.
She tried to tell her not to talk. Instead, all she could do was brush Antinoch's hair free of her bloodied face as her head laid on Jaylah's legs. Antinoch was... How could she say anything?
The only person constantly around you is me, and I surely do not love you.
"I failed..." Antinoch's voice was so small it might not have existed at all. "I'm—I'm sorry."
"No," Jaylah gasped out. Her hands were not her own, not as they clutched Antinoch's face with a desperation that could not have been hers. "Antinoch." She breathed in deeply to hold in the wetness of her eyes. "I should be sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry."
But Antinoch had breathed her last breath right after she spoke her final words.
Jaylah stared at her until she grew blurry. Her eyes were so full. She refused to cry. How could she, when showing her pain was the very confirmation that she had been hurt? Out of all the blows Ermalai had dealt her, this one was the worst. Because Ermalai had not truly been the death of her, had he? She was meant to be with Jaylah at this time; the only reason she had gone to stop Ermalai on her own was because Jaylah had made it clear she did not want her.
She had failed the one person that was unequivocally on her side.
Her lower lip trembled. No. She had to keep it together. There were voices behind her. Someone was always watching, always searching for a flaw. She could not have any. She could not have any.
It was an eternity as she sat like that, clutching Antinoch's corpse. It was seconds. The moment she let go was the moment Antinoch would cease to be real.
"Your Majesty," came a voice from behind her. "Ermalai's speech is over. He has threatened retaliation against Oceana for the killing of his advisor. Our people are rioting in the streets."
Jaylah's chest was filled with stones that were all plummeting, all weighing her down to the floor like she was a limp corpse herself. There was no reasoning with Ermalai. Whether or not his threat was empty, she could not talk sense into him.
She stood, letting Antinoch's head slide from her lap. Her face was completely dry when she said, "Let me speak with him."
