Legacies are made with blood

General Afis crossed his arms, his politeness wearing thinner with every word. "We cannot win, the advantageous thing to do would be to surrender-"

"Surrender?" Zaina repeated, eyes narrowing sharply. She leaned forward, hands planted on the table. "I'm amazed you've won any battles, General, considering that you're ready to concede at the first loss."

"I will not take this insult from a child!" General Afis shouted, armour clanking with his anger. "We have fewer forces, fewer resources-"

Zaina's eyes flashed threateningly and I was glad suddenly, that all weapons had been left outside. "I'm a grown woman, General, and I have strategized every successful battle thus far. You led the one defeat-"

"Now, now, calmer heads will prevail-" General Stevan raised his hands placatingly, looking to me for support.

My eyes found their way back to Zaina, and I studied the resolve in her face before shaking my head. Nothing I could say would fix this.

Technically, I had already contributed. I kept the rest of the troops out of this meeting, knowing that we didn't need any infighting or strained loyalties.

"Strategy." General Afis swept Stevan's hand off his shoulder, sneering. "Have you fought on the frontlines, child?"

Zaina's face tightened with fury. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

General Afis made a sound of derision. "That's what I-"

"Fine. I will join you on the frontlines during our next battle." Zaina declared, and before the General could say another word, I stepped in.

"This meeting is getting us nowhere. We should reconvene later when we've all had time to think." To my surprise, General Afis grumbled but left with Stevan.

Zaina flung her goblet across the tent, seething. I watched for a moment, wondering how best to approach this.

"Zaina, what are you doing?" I asked, trying to appeal to her logic. "You aren't trained, you barely know how to hold up a sword, why are you entering into a pissing match with Afis?"

"The frontlines are where any leader should be. They'll respect me more if I bleed with them." Zaina stated, moving some of the pieces on the map around.

I sighed, rubbing at my temples. "Zaina, your place is here, making the hard decisions, making the right decisions. This whole movement would fall apart without you-"

"If I was one of my brothers, would you still stop me from fighting?" Zaina asked, staring me down.

I glared back at her, annoyed that she'd point that out. "Not if you were trained, but this is madness-"

"So I'll train. I'll train every single day until our next battle. It's settled." Zaina was stonily staring down at her maps and papers again, and I knew I'd lost.

I watched Zaina again, the regal ferocity in her movements as she shifted papers.

"I don't want you to do this," I said quietly, then stopped. Zaina was the daughter of a defeated king.

Her father had martyred his whole family rather than surrender. A kitchen maid had smuggled baby Zaina out, but every last one of them... Her lion of a father, her powerful mother, her brothers and twin sister perished that night.

I knew Zaina wished she'd died. I knew she wished she still had her father, their legacy.

"I need to do this," Zaina muttered, and as always there was a new fire in her words. I had become tired from the fighting, and the battles, and the nonstop onslaught of dirt, dust, and war camps.

Somehow, Zaina was tireless. It was like she had her whole family living in her, giving her the energy to keep going.

Even a childhood without knowing their names hadn't prevented her from becoming great.

An adopted child of a peasant family, that somehow learnt to read, somehow proved herself to generals.

That inspired enough fear and loyalty to raise an army? She was incredible.

I know love isn't supposed to be like this. People love people because of the way they look, or like Stevan told me: the way someone smiles.

Zaina had inherited her father's strong nose, and hooded eyes. She was striking, but not beautiful. And she smiled once every blue moon. So both of those options were out.

I loved Zaina because of what she is, and who she could be. She wasn't ever going to be the half-wit daughter of two peasants or the quiet third child in a royal family.

Like always, like a moth drawn to a flame, or a child staring at the sun, I stared at her. She was blinding.

And General Afis knew it. There was no removing Zaina Iseris from the revolution.

And like everyone in her path, I also had to surrender.

Like she did every day, Zaina brought out her father's sword. It was curved, wickedly sharp. Decidedly plain for a king, but instantly recognizable.

Zaina took a deep breath and lifted it, her muscles straining as she did.

No grand moment or doves flying through the air. Just a young woman, trying to hold up her family's story.

I think embarrassment made Zaina crack. With a laugh, she looked at me, eyes alight with amusement. "It's so heavy!"

I couldn't help it, I smiled back. There wasn't even an ounce of fear in Zaina's eyes. Not of pain, not of loss, not of losing me.

Zaina wanted to win, but more than that she wanted to die well.

That was her family's legacy: the noble story. Incredible rulers that changed the world, and then died brightly like phoenixes.

Despite every attempt the Emperor made, everyone knew King Iseris. Everyone knew the story of his family, and their returned heir: Zaina Iseris.

"You want me to find you a trainer?" I asked, and Zaina looked at me surprisedly.

I cleared my throat. "I think Henri is a good fit. He's quiet, well mannered, well trained. But he-"

"-fights like a foreigner." Zaina finished, still looking deep into my eyes. "So, I'll have to train with Afis, right?"

I nodded. "He's the best. I'll go and say something to win him over, maybe smooth over his pride."

"You'll do no such thing." Zaina waved a hand and struggled with returning the sword to its scabbard. "He needs to follow my instructions, but I'll apologize." She swung the sword over her shoulder, moving to find Afis.

"Hey, Zaina, you know I lo-" I stopped myself, forcing a smile when I saw Zaina looking at me. "I believe in you, always. You know that, right?"

"Of course I do." Zaina's face broke into one of her strange, unpracticed smiles. And without any unfinished words for me, she turned and left.

The weight of the world was swung over her shoulder, and every soldier in the camp paused to watch her go.

All of us watching, waiting for her to make history. To carry on the legacy of the giants, in whose shadows she walked.