# A Drizzle of Blood
Rain drummed against stone as the Emperor descended into the prison's wet, stale darkness.
Medea turned from the narrow window where she'd been watching the black sky. Her dress hung from a frame skeletal as winter branches. Sunken eyes, hollow cheeks—she looked like a corpse that hadn't realized it was dead.
The Emperor's mouth tightened. This woman had stood beside him through half his life, had remained steadfast even during the bloodiest campaigns. To see her reduced to this—
"Jason."
The sound that emerged was barely human. Behind the Emperor, his knight bristled.
"How dare a sinner speak His Majesty's name!"
"Let her." The Emperor's voice carried a strange, almost indulgent gentleness. "Before she dies, I can grant her that much."
Medea's gaze drifted past them, unfocused, as though their words came from very far away.
"I did everything for you."
> " Princess of Valdina, please...
> call me Jason. "
That memory still gleamed bright in the ruins of her mind. The friendly greeting. The warm smile. He had been the person she loved more than breath itself.
She had wanted him so desperately she would have sacrificed anything. And she did. Everything. The country's sacred treasures, stolen and laid at his feet. Her youth, her future. Her soldiers, her people's blood—all of it spent to put a crown on his head.
The result had been betrayal so complete it hollowed her out.
Her brother, dead. Her country, ash. Her husband, married to another woman.
"Your Majesty abandoned me for the Saintess."
Medea's hand drifted to her belly, remembering. She'd been heavy with their second child when she heard about his new marriage.
"I heard it was because of the oracle. So you made our son Lian the Crown Prince instead, didn't you?"
And then Lian died.
Six months after they took the boy to the imperial palace alone, "to receive recognition of legitimacy," they told her he was dead.
When the hunt ends, the hunting dogs are boiled.
She had finally understood.
"I knew then. Leah and I would be next."
"The oracle came again, didn't it?" The Emperor's voice sharpened. "The revelation that your wife and daughter would bring destruction to the empire!"
"Medea."
He stepped closer, rain-damp cloak brushing the air around her.
"Instead of burning you at the stake as the oracle demanded, I showed mercy. I chose to let you die in peace, out of respect for what we once were. And still you drown in resentment."
The audacity of it—driving her to death and demanding gratitude—should have shocked her. It didn't. Nothing could shock her anymore.
"Oracle or not, it doesn't matter."
Medea's voice turned to acid.
"Your Majesty was always one step behind the truth. When I stole the national treasures, when I slew the dragon, when I toppled the old Emperor—even when our child died—there was always someone else to blame. Never you."
The friendly man with his gentle smile had vanished long ago. All that remained was this creature, blinded by ambition, who had used her and discarded her like something soiled.
"Finish this. I don't want to look at this filth any longer."
He jerked his chin toward the knight, who uncapped the black bottle at his belt.
Leah will survive. Thank God.
Three days ago, Medea had begged her cousin Birna—family, blood, the one person she still trusted—to smuggle her daughter across the border. She'd sold everything she owned, converted it all to jewels small enough for a child to carry. Enough to last until Leah came of age.
She'd been caught because she'd spent every coin, exhausted every favor, preparing her daughter's escape. But she had no regrets.
"I feel sorry for the children," the Emperor said softly. "But they won't be lonely. They'll have you soon enough. What a comfort."
Children?
Ice shot through Medea's chest. Every instinct she had as a mother screamed.
"Leah. No—Leah!"
Pink hair appeared behind the knights.
Medea's world stopped.
"I'm sorry, Medea."
"Birna?"
Her voice cracked.
"Why are you here? You should be—you should be across the border by now—"
Shock turned her limbs to stone.
"I couldn't betray His Majesty."
Birna's voice was soft, almost apologetic.
"I'm sorry, Medea. But what you asked me to do—it was wrong."
She leaned into the Emperor's shoulder with practiced ease, pale fingers trailing down his arm in a gesture of casual intimacy.
Then she held out a small bundle.
Medea's legs gave out. She collapsed, staring.
The flower-patterned pouch she'd tied to Leah's arm. Soaked through with blood, the fabric dark and stiff.
## AAAAAAAH—!
A raw, tearing scream ripped from her throat.
Her hands shook so violently she couldn't even grasp the blood-soaked cloth.
Leah. My little Leah.
How terrified had she been? How much had she cried for her mother?
"The children will understand," the Emperor said.
His expression held no trace of grief. He didn't look like a father who'd lost his son and daughter.
"Jason, you *bastard!* Even *animals* don't kill their young! You *promised* you wouldn't hurt them!"
Armor clanked as the knights closed in, blocking her view.
"Such insolence toward His Majesty! Silence the sinner! Your Majesty, please go."
The Emperor smiled—a small, peaceful smile—and spoke his farewell to the woman who had suffered through war and hardship at his side.
"Goodbye, Medea. I will treasure the memory of your contributions."
He turned to Birna, his voice warm with concern.
"It's getting cold, Lady Claudio. Don't stay too long."
"I'm honored that Your Majesty cares."
Birna's voice dripped sweetness.
When Jason's footsteps faded, Birna's smile vanished. She looked down at Medea with cold contempt.
"*Ha!* So proud of being a princess—and look at you now. Valdina destroyed. Your brother torn apart by demonic beasts. All because of one stupid, *stupid* girl."
Medea couldn't process the words.
Birna is family. My cousin. Why is she saying this? Why does she look so happy?
"Why did you betray me?"
Her voice broke.
"Why did you kill my child?"
"Betray you? Oh, Medea."
Birna laughed.
"I ought to be thanking you. I'd never have come this far without you."
What?
"Your brother and Valdina's loyalists were no easy opponents. If not for your stupidity opening every door, we would have failed."
"*We?*"
Medea turned her head slowly, mechanically, as understanding crashed over her in waves.
"It was your family."
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Your family convinced me to steal the Wise Man's Eye for Jason. It's been since then, hasn't it?"
"Wrong."
Birna's eyes glittered with delight.
"It's been much, *much* longer than that. You have no idea, poor Dea."
She giggled, drunk on her own cleverness.
"Your whole life—your *entire* life—has been in our hands."
Silence.
"Thanks to you, my father will be King of Valdina. And I'll be Empress of this empire."
I want to scream in her face. I was nothing but a puppet. From the very beginning.
The past flickered through Medea's mind like pages torn from a book.
The rebellion. The fall. The deaths.
Her uncle's family had been there for every tragedy. Every single one.
"Jason knows, of course."
Birna's tone turned almost bored.
"He's been working with us for years."
"..."
"You were our chess piece. Do you finally understand?"
Medea's green eyes went dark. Deep. Bottomless.
A sound—barely a moan, almost a prayer—slipped past her bitten lips.
"Jason."
Not a curse. Just his name. Spoken so she would never, ever forget.
All the lies he'd told. All the sacrifices she'd made.
A single tear rolled down her cheek, dark red as blood.
The knights shifted uneasily. But Birna couldn't hide her satisfaction at her cousin's pain.
"Don't be too sad. You'll see your family again soon—the ones you miss so much. Isn't that wonderful?"
"Birna."
Medea's lips curved into something that might have been a smile. Her red-stained eyes met Birna's.
"I won't forget. You. Your family. Every last member of House Claudio. I will *never* forget."
The venom in her voice made Birna step back involuntarily.
"W-what—"
Then she recovered, forcing a laugh. What did she have to fear from a broken puppet?
"What are you waiting for?"
She snapped at the knight.
"Pour it down her throat. Now."
The knight seized Medea's jaw viciously.
"Hold her! Don't let her move!"
They pinned her thrashing limbs. The knight upended the vial, forcing the poison past her lips.
Black liquid splashed across white skin, mixing with red blood in ugly rivulets.
Final Vow Even as her eyes closed, Medea's lips moved, forming the same words again and again:
*She would pay for her foolishness with death—for failing to see the golden beasts in their true form.*
*But their sins—their original sins—*
*No matter how many lifetimes passed, she would return. Even if she were reborn as the smallest creature. Even if she had to wait for eons.*
*Neither fate's chosen nor God's beloved would escape her.*
*She would not stop until their blood lit the path beneath her feet.*
End Prologue ## A Drizzle of Blood
"The first death is just the beginning."
[ Continue to Chapter 1 ]