“What else was there for me?” Nara whispered. “I was lost without you.” She raised her head, looking into the Lady’s white eyes. “I love you,” she whispered. “I live for you, Lady. I always have, ever since that first night. I will never hide again. I swear it, so please, please come back to me.”
Come back? Benehime’s voice was soft as new snow. How could I come back to you now? What have you done to deserve me?
“I’ll do anything,” Nara whispered, digging her fingers into the white flesh of Benehime’s lovely shoulders.
Benehime bent down, cupping Nara’s chin in her burning fingers as she laid a kiss on Nara’s lips. Nara shuddered, her eyes slamming closed to shut out everything but the feel of the Shepherdess. It was a brief touch, barely more than a flash of heat, but it was enough to bring centuries of memories flooding back. Nara reached out desperately, clinging to the lost time when Benehime loved her best of all. But no matter how tightly she held them, the memories were flat. That time was gone, leaving her alone and forgotten, empty but for one burning desire.
When Nara opened her eyes again, she was no longer crying.
“Lady,” she promised. “I will be your favorite again, or I will die trying.”
Such talk, Nara, Benehime said, stroking her hair. Second in my heart is still beloved. Is that not enough?
“No,” Nara said, sitting up straight. “I know now, life without your attention is no better than death.” She reached out, seizing the Lady’s hand between her own. “Tell me what to do,” she whispered. “How can I make you love me best again?”
Benehime smiled and stood, taking Nara with her as though the Empress weighed nothing. She turned slightly, facing them toward the fleet that spread out across the sea. I always loved you best as a conqueror, she said. Do you remember when I first found you? The wish you made?
“To bring all the world under righteous rule,” Nara said.
Benehime smiled. It was those words that made me love you then. So audacious, so determined. If you want me to love you now as I did then, use the power I gave you to fulfill that wish. Give me the world, Nara. Be the conqueror, the righteous, perfect Empress I saw in you so long ago. Crush all who stand in your way, and maybe I will have reason to love you best again.
Nara leaned back, her hand going to the beautiful sword at her hip. “Watch me, Shepherdess,” she said, her voice firm as stone. “You will see your conqueror in all her glory and terror. I will give you a world made perfect, a world without unfairness or disobedience. A world deserving of you.”
Benehime laughed, a beautiful chime, and leaned in to drop a kiss on the Empress’s forehead.
I’ll be watching. Her whisper thrilled against Nara’s skin. Do not disappoint me, darling star.
And then she was gone, her beautiful whiteness vanishing into the air, leaving only the blinding afterimage of a white line. Nara fell to her knees as the overwhelming feel of the Lady’s presence vanished. She knelt for several moments, clutching herself and trying not to sob at the loss. When she was sure of herself again, she stood and walked to the balcony’s edge, reaching out with her spirit as she did. The war palace answered at once.
“Hail, Empress,” the stones rattled.
“Are the ships loaded?”
“Yes, Empress,” the stone said. “The docks report that the last of your legions and the man called Den are boarded.”
Nara nodded. “Time to go.”
The stone gave a final, sobbing shudder before bowing to her will. “Yes, Empress. As you command.”
As the words faded, the war palace began to shake. The bay rocked as the tremors shot through the ground. She could dimly hear the cries of her men on the ships, but Nara brushed them aside, focusing her attention on the palace around her. She stretched out her spirit, wrapping it through the stone and down to the very roots of the mountain she’d used to form the fortress hundreds of years ago, and then, one by one, she ripped those roots out. The stone screamed every time she pulled one free, yammering in pain as she severed its connection to the world’s foundations.
Nara scowled. Quiet.
The command left her with a stab of her will, and the screaming stopped. After that, the mountain bore the pain in silence as she tore the last of its roots free.
Move, she said, pouring her will into the command.
The stone obeyed. With a great crash, the war palace Istalirin, and the mountain it was attached to, fell into the sea. The stone docks crumbled with a cut-off cry as the mountain fell on top of them, and the ocean rose up in a great wave from the impact, tossing her palace ships like toy boats. Her winds moved the moment she brushed them, tearing down from the sky and forcing themselves between the ships to cushion them as they bumped against each other. Other winds pressed on the water itself, flattening the bay until the sea was as smooth as glass and the war palace floated among the fleet, a true palace ship riding atop a great stone island.