Juliette VII

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‘What… where…?’

Consciousness came back slowly, as Juliette groggily returned to the land of the living. She found herself buried, shattered wooden logs covered her, their sticks digging into her limbs. Small holes from above allowed light through, and in the distance she could hear sounds of fighting.

‘Fuck. The catapult.’

With all the logs above her, she was probably stuck under the remains of her old walls. And that meant the fighting was…

‘Damn. And here I was so proud of making these. They didn’t even last a minute.’

For some reason, despite being buried under a ton of wooden logs, she could only feel frustrated. Frustrated with her walls, her enemies, herself. Just a lot of anger, directed at everything.

‘Am I going to die down here?’

It was unlikely. They’d have to find her soul-orb first. It would probably be easier to dig her out than spend so much time looking for that.

She shifted slightly, flinching as her hand brushed something wet.

‘Is that my blood? Or someone else’s?’

There had been other soldiers next to her, after all. She wondered if they were still alive.

‘I hope Qian didn’t get caught up in this.’

It was a selfish thought, especially since there were so many other people that would die today. But she couldn’t help it. She’d lost one friend already today, and she didn’t think she could handle losing any more.

‘Can I get out?’

She tried to shift more. She finagled her arms around, grabbing at the logs. But it wasn’t enough—immortal or not, she couldn’t dead-lift a tree.

Hm. When she got out of here, she should get to work on that. Start doing lifts, so that if this happened again she could get out of it.

Despite herself, she began to laugh. A painful, wet gurgle that seemed to echo through the pile. Of course that’s what she needed to do, work out! It’s not like there’s a war going on right now, no! Arm day is much more important!

“Hey! I think I hear someone in the rubble!”

‘Hm? Is someone there?’

The logs pinning her to the ground began to move, shifting away and letting in more light. It blinded her, the sudden light causing her to wince and close her eyes. She heard faint grunts as these people worked, dragging the logs up and away.

And then, suddenly, a face appeared. It was a man, who stared down at her with a combination of worry and awe.

‘I don’t know who this is.’

“How are you still alive?” he asked.

“Gurk.” She replied eloquently.

“They’re still alive?” someone else called.

“Yeah!” the man called back, turning to look at someone outside of her vision.

“And it’s a woman?”

“Yes…?”

“And they don’t look right?”

The man looked down at her. “She’s got hair made of gold.”

“Then that’s the queen, dumbass!”

The man’s eyes went wide, before they closed sorrowfully. “Sorry about this, then. We’ll get you out of here, don’t worry. But after that, it’s up to the King to decide.”

‘Ah. This is the enemy. I really am going to die.’

And despite—or maybe because of—the fear that began to bubble up within her, she began to laugh.

--

There was a distinct sort of irony to what had happened that Juliette might have found funny if it had happened to anyone else.

As it was, she was just pissed. And tired. And maybe, if you pressured her, a little bit scared.

They’d been defeated, there was no two ways about it. But she was still alive, so not everything was lost yet. Her soul-orb was hidden in a place no one but her knew to look, and she wouldn’t give the location up even if she was put under the worst torture in the world.

But that just meant that now she was a prisoner, rather than a corpse. A step up, one might say. Juliette disagreed.

She knew what happened to prisoners in this world.

But that was for later. Right now, she was being frog-marched at spearpoint up to the leader of this army. The so-called ‘Red King.’

Hmph, was a dumb title. It sounded so pretentious—look at me, I have an edgy moniker, it makes me sound all cool and stuff! What self-absorbed idiot would actually name themselves something like that?

(She wasn’t jealous, shut up!)

Eventually they arrived at the center of the village. And there, standing with some of his soldiers next to the firepit, was the King.

The first thing she noticed about him was that he was tall. Taller than her, which was a surprise—it meant he had to be six feet at least. His height, though, was only secondary to his face. Sleezy was the best way to describe it—a combination of a smug smirk and blatantly roving eyes that made her instinctively want to punch him. If she weren’t currently restrained, she probably would have.

“So, you’re the woman who attacked me,” the man hummed, looking her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl. “You are much more beautiful than I imagined.”

“And you’re much creepier than I imagined,” she shot back, before wincing. Much as she didn’t like this man, he held her life in his hands. She couldn’t just go pissing him off already.

The man’s face twisted with displeasure, before softening out into something that could almost be called pleasant. “Insulting your captor to his face? You have some nerve. But, I suppose that might be expected…” he trailed off, mumbling to himself. “Still, I suppose there’d be certain… advantages… to keeping you around.”

Oh, she hated this man.

Biting her tongue to stop herself from tearing into him. Instead, she settled for glaring at him angrily.

The man gave her one last disgusting look, before he turned to someone behind her.

“Saanvi, it’s about time!” he called out, waving a hand. “Get over here!”

At his call, a pretty young woman arrived. She was short, shorter even than the native people around them, with brown skin and long, curly hair. Unlike the King, who was a muscle head wearing next to nothing, this woman wore layers of linen robes, concealing her form from view. Her only other defining feature was a mole on her lower jaw, almost disappearing with her skin-tone.

“Yes, my lord?” she asked, her voice low and husky, which was disturbing for a reason Juliette somehow couldn’t place. Maybe it was just the idea of someone trying to be seductive towards this piece of shit.

The man had the gall to chuckle, eyeing this woman in the same way he did her (despite the fact she was wearing concealing robes. Or maybe that was why she wore them?) “Wonderful! Please take this woman with you, back to the boats. We’ll bring her back to the capital tomorrow, where she can swear herself to me forever.”

Juliette’s skin crawled at the thought. Forever. Yuck.

“Of course, my lord,” she simpered, bowing in a way that somehow managed to dislodge her robes enough to show a hint of cleavage.

And Juliette thought getting hit by a catapult would be the worst thing to happen to her today.

“If you’ll come with me,” Saavni told her, daintily dragging her away from the king and towards the river.

She let herself get dragged. Anything to get away from that creepy bastard.

“How awful,” the smaller woman hummed, her voice suddenly much more tolerable now that they were away from the King. “Another woman, dominated by a big strong king. Taken prisoner, and forced to wait on him hand and foot.”

Never mind, that was somehow worse. Never say that again, lady.

“…You’re another immortal. Don’t try to pretend you’re not. There’s no one else here with skin as dark as yours.”

“My! How racist!” she giggled.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Juliette snapped. “I mean, why are you following him? He’s just… just…”

“My, what an accurate way to describe him!” she smiled, dancing in a circle around her, her many cloaks flouncing with her.

“Look, just answer my question! …Please.”

“Well then, I suppose I could answer your question with another one! Tell me, Juli,” she hummed, and for a moment her eyes were sharp. “Do you think you’re the first woman to be spared the wrath of our king?”

“I’m… I’m not?”

“Oh, no, no! You’re… the third, I believe.”

“…The third. And what happened to the others?”

“Oh, they’re all dead, of course!”

Juliette felt her throat go dry. “…And why am I not?”

“Well, you see, the others were ugly!”

Somehow, this conversation continued to get worse and worse. “…ah. That makes more sense than I want it too. I imagine what happened to the men is supposed to be obvious?”

“My, you catch on quick! Perhaps you’ll be smart enough to even outlast me!”

“That’s not comforting.”

“It wasn’t meant to be~”

“Look, can you just—” Juliette threw her hands into the air in frustration. “Just tell me what’s going to happen! Please!”

“It’s simple,” the other woman sighed, her bubbly persona suddenly dropped. Glancing to the side, Juliette noticed that they were now out of the city and deep in the forest. “You have the boat ride up to the capital to convince Billy-boy that you’re worth the effort. Batt your eyelashes, show some skin, promise to sleep with him, something. Otherwise, you will die.”

There was nothing Juliette could say to that.

“This whole boat trip is a façade.” Saavni continued. “I don’t know if you’ve realized this yet, but our souls magically return to our bodies if we get too far away. That means, soon enough you’ll be imprisoned and alone on a boat, miles away from any help and surrounded by enemies on all sides. And then, your greatest weakness will suddenly appear in your hands.”

“…And then I die.”

“And then you die.”

Juliette swallowed, suddenly feeling more powerless than ever. “How did you survive? You had to have been in this situation before, right?”

“I flashed my tits and promised more if he spared me.”

“…I don’t think I could do that.”

“Well, there’s one other option,” she shrugged.

“There is!?” Juliette practically begged, a flicker of hope blooming in her chest.

“Yes. Haven’t you noticed yet? We’re all alone, away from the city. You’re a lot bigger than me. Stronger too, probably. You could overpower me easily. And then you’d escape, running off into the woods with no one the wiser.”

…Huh. She’s right. They didn’t even have any guards. Just the two of them. Funny, that—Juliette hadn’t even considered running away.

She looked down at the ropes binding her hands. They’d be easy enough to cut through, and it’s not like she needed food or water to survive. Running away right now wouldn’t be difficult. Hell, it’d be downright easy.

But what would happen to her city, her people? All the work she’d put into building up her kingdom, gone in an instant, never to return. She’d never see any of her friends again. She’d never be a Queen again. Just Juli the person, one more among many.

The thought burned.

She closed her eyes, frustrated with herself, the world, and everything. “Damn my stubborn pride. I don’t think I could run away, even if I have to die.”

“Then you’d better get to work on bringing Billy-boy to you’re side, because if you don’t, then that’s what’ll happen.”

Juliette hissed, frustrated. She just needed—something. Some sort of plan or idea that could help her survive…!

…wait.

“You said… you said I could leave if I wanted to, right?” she asked, an idea forming in her mind.

“Well, you certainly changed you mind quickly,” Saanvi rolled her eyes. “But yes. You can still run away if you want.”

“I’m not,” she snapped, opening her eyes to glare at the other woman. “I’m not going to run away. I think… I think I have a plan. But I’ll need your help to make it work. Are you willing to help me trick this king?”

“Well now,” the other woman smiled, eyes glittering with intrigue, “pull one over Billy-boy? How could I not?”

--

Juliette sprinted through the forest, following a barely used trail to a place she visited often. It was lucky they were on the east side of the city—if they had been on the other side, she would have had to circle around to get to where she needed to go, and who knew how long that would take.

She shoved her way past trees and shrubs, her furs getting caught on their branches. But soon enough the trail began to widen out, turning into a clearing on a cliff overlooking the river.

And there she finally found what she was looking for.

A graveyard.

It was a fusion of her own customs and these peoples’. When they died, their bodies were floated down the river at twilight, as a ceremony to help ferry them along into the afterlife. But Juliette wasn’t used to that—she wasn’t able to properly mourn without gravestones to sit by and reminisce. The lack of a body to bury actually kind of disturbed her, not that she’d tell them that. She respected their culture and religion.

So, after they finished the funerary ceremonies, she found a collection of big rocks and started carving Epithets for her soldiers.

Truthfully, she was probably the only person to come here. But it helped her think, and mourn, and remember, so she kept the tradition up. Even if it was just for herself. Especially if it was just for herself.

She slowly walked along the gravestones, her respect for the dead forcing her to slow down and not trample their graves. Her thoughts soured as she realized she’d probably be making quite a few more after today.

But those were thoughts for another time. Instead, she read each of the ones that were here, remembering those who had died.

Mao, who had too much life to have lost it so soon.

Laifeng, a wise man brought low by a foolish one.

Aoi, a new mother who would never know her child.

They were the first three people who had died under her orders. Since then, over a dozen other people had followed them—the eight she had executed, another couple who had perished when taking Roi Noyé—the city by the lake—and a few people who had died of old age or sickness. All of their names recorded forever along the river side, in a language only she could read.

She took a moment to bow her head, mourning quietly. Then, once the moment had passed, she reached down and shoved her hands into the dirt, and began to dig.

Their bodies weren’t buried here, after all. But something else was.

An agonizingly long amount of time later, and Juliette dragged a small bag out from beneath the grave markers.

Reaching in, she grabbed a cold yet warm orb, the mere touch causing her to violently shiver. But she moved past that, pulling the orb out of the bag.

And for the first time in months, she held her own soul.

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