Her father was so grey and motionless that he might as well have been dead. Tigris sat in the wicker chair beside his bed, speaking to his weakening body.

"I met a whisper today," she told her silent father. His eyes stared at her blankly, blinking slowly. "He was very nice. I've learned some interesting things about what you've done to his kin. He was a good man. Undeserving of your hate."

No response. Tigris swallowed hard.

"He's dead. I'm sure you're glad to hear that." The words were harsh, bitter in her mouth. She waited patiently, watching for a flinch or wince. But her father remained perfectly still, unresponsive save for his perfectly timed blinks.

Tigris sagged forward. "Without him, the city has no chance. The griffin cannot fall to steel or skill. I know Verita has been wrong before but this time... but this time she seems so certain. The city is doomed without a whisper."

His silence chafed at her in a way it never had. She struggled to keep her voice steady.

"The whisper could have saved us all," she told her father, a pit opening up within her, "He was a good man. I could tell."

If her father had been able to speak, he probably would have scoffed. She could practically hear his scornful words now. "He is an inkblood. He is corrupt. He would see you dead. There is no good within him."

"He saved my life," Tigris argued back to the silent reprimand, "My back was turned and I was losing the fight. He saved me, even after all that you did to him and his family. And he was going to save the city."

Fire filled her veins. Her blood roared as she stared down at her father. He no longer blinked at her. He only stared, his mouth hanging open slightly. His skin was grey.

He looked dead.

Her voice trembled when she spoke again. "He was a good inkblood. Something you told me was impossible. Something you made me murder hundreds for."

He didn't blink. His icy eyes, as unyielding as ever, gazed at her. She couldn't read the emotion within him.

She sucked in a breath, gathering her composure. She leaned forward, clasping her father's limp hand in hers. She squeezed it tightly, tears tangling with her words.

"Finn wasn't lying, was he?" Tigris whispered hoarsely.

He didn't respond. He didn't need to. Tigris knew the words to be true the moment they left her mouth. Perhaps she should have felt angry, furious, ready to burn the world just like Finn had. A better ruler would have been incensed at the crimes against their people. But Tigris merely felt weary, an ache seeping into her bones.

She retracted her hand slowly, staring into the haggard face of the man who was king. He used to seem so imposing, so untouchable. But now his face was unshaven. His pale skin was washed out, even with the grey morning light playing across his hollow cheeks. He looked thin, muscle wasted away from his sorrow. He no longer looked like a king.

He no longer looked like her father.

Tigris unsheathed her sword.

"You've wronged so many people," she murmured, laying the blade across her lap, inches away from his face. "I should kill you after all that you've done."

She knew he was awake. She knew he was listening. She could see it in the faint light tucked within his eyes. Tigris wondered if after everything he'd done if he would welcome her blade. She let the length of the metal draw closer to his still neck.

"It should be so easy," she whispered, "To hate you."

The silence stretched between them. Her hand trembled.

The sword fell back against her lap.

"Yet I find that I cannot."

She held her breath. Her father didn't move. The light that had been in his eyes faded, leaving an empty shell once again. She shuddered, emotion threatening to break through the blanket of horror and weariness she'd wrapped her heart in. She had things to do. She needed to get out of here.

"I'm going to ride out with the knights tonight," Tigris informed him succinctly, rising from her seat. Her sword fell into its sheath with a metallic screech, "We'll fight the griffin and probably die trying. If you have any remorse for what you've done, you'll support Aodh. You'll wake up for him. You'll right the wrongs you've committed and help him become a better leader than you ever were. Just... don't let him fall apart."

Like you.

The words went unspoken, hanging in the air. Tigris paused, staring once more at her father. He was a shadow of his former self, yet Tigris still remembered who he'd been. Not King Romulus, but the man she'd called her father. The man who used to hoist her into the air so she could see over her mother's shoulders at tournaments. The man who used to let her nuzzle into his neck while her mother braided her hair. The man who'd held her when she wept after her mother died.

"You're all I have," he'd told her, his hand running soothingly over her fiery curls, "I'll never leave you. We'll stay together, you and I, that's what we'll do. You and your brothers will never feel this pain again."

Yet here she was, two decades later, feeling that same ache in her heart. Aodh would feel it too, once she was gone. Perhaps her father would too, even after all that had been done to tear them apart.

"Goodbye, father," Tigris said softly, lifting a hand to cup his cheek gently, "I know I shouldn't but... I still love you."

She turned then, squaring her shoulders and preparing to face the world again, to face her knights and those who would die alongside her.

A hand wrapped around her wrist, haggard and skeletal. Shock stilled her feet. She turned, finding her father struggling to rise out of bed. He clutched at her like a lifeline, his empty eyes hopeless and despairing.

"Please don't go," he begged, the words slurred, "Don't face it. You'll die." Each word seemed to sap his strength.

Tigris' control over her emotions nearly snapped them. Slowly, carefully, she extricated herself from his grasp. His fingers fell away easily, like they'd been cut off.

"I'm sorry, Father," she told him, watching him retreat back into a motionless shell, "I've failed our people already. I won't leave them to die."

He let out a pained wheeze. Tigris turned, pretending that she didn't see the tear glistening on his cheek as she left the room. She should have been in the armory, rallying the knights and lifting their spirits. But Tigris knew she wouldn't be successful at that, not when her own spirit was so beaten and bruised.

She found herself drifting to her chambers anyway to ready herself. The double doors parted with a quick struggle, the hinges groaning loudly. A thin figure jumped away from her closet, a gossamer gown fluttering to the ground. They didn't pick it up. They merely stared at Tigris, eyes shadowed and red.

"Tigris," Roche greeted, lifting a hand in a halfhearted wave.

Tigris nodded at her. They both gazed at each other, their eyes magnetic with raw pain. Roche looked away first, bending to pick up the gown. Tigris noticed that the woman was trembling as she did so, shaking with a jittery kind of energy.

"I was going to do your laundry," Roche said with forced cheer. Tigris smirked at her.

"Well, there's no point. I'll never wear that gown again," she replied jokingly. Roche didn't laugh.

"Yes you will."

"Roche, please. Be realistic," Tigris muttered, "Just get over here and dress me. The knights need one hell of a pep talk."

Roche dropped the balled up gown obediently, but her face was still twisted with obvious disagreement.

"You're not going to die," Roche whispered, her voice ghostly. She fluttered about, gathering various pieces of armour.

"Tell that to the griffin."

"I'm serious," Roche snapped, nudging Tigris aside as she bent to grab fighting leathers. Her calloused fingers brushed against Tigris' back as she lifted the hem of her shirt, tugging it over Tigris' head. The cool air made Tigris shiver. Roche turned, an uncharacteristically stern look splayed across her features. "You're an excellent fighter."

"I don't know what you've heard, Roche, but the griffin doesn't care about that sort of thing," Tigris tried to make the words sound teasing, but they came out flat. Roche's gaze pierced her.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does," Tigris said, trying to smile, trying to get Roche to do anything but look so damn serious, "It means you need to start looking for other employment opportunities."

Roche's face blanched with horror so potent that it seized Tigris' breath. Roche stepped back, shaking her head.

"Don't joke about this," Roche whispered, her voice trembling, "Please."

Tigris looked at her maid. Really looked. She noticed just how awful the woman looked at that moment. Roche's normally golden skin was washed out and waxen. Her eyes were red and puffy, cradled by heavy shadows. The maid seemed so pallid and thin, trembling as she carefully slid a shirt over Tigris' head, her knuckles brushing Tigris' side. They felt strange.

Roche looked terrible. Tigris remembered seeing her bent over the whisper's body, streaked with blood. Her gaze dropped, and she stilled.

"What the hell happened here?" she murmured, catching Roche by the wrist before she could pull away. Roche's skin was chapped and peeling, like it had been held in icy water for days.

Roche didn't meet her eyes. She pulled her hands away, quickly strapping on pieces of armour to Tigris' body. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hey, wait," Roche turned away, and Tigris bit back a curse. "Damn it, Roche, just look at me!"

And Roche did. She lifted her gaze, her eyes practically bleeding with agony and loss.

Tigris stepped forward, grabbing Roche's wrists again. Roche didn't pull away, not even when Tigris pulled her hands up to the light.

"I saw you," Tigris whispered. Goosebumps rose on Roche's golden skin, the words making her tremble.

"What?" Roche asked, her eyes rounding.

Tigris heaved a breath, meeting Roche's eyes firmly. "I saw you. With the whisper. I saw you cry."

It had been such a jarring sight that Tigris had barely noticed the dead whisper. Her eyelids were seared with the memory of Roche hunched over, sobbing huge, gut wrenching cries into her bloodied palms. Cries that she'd immediately stifled when she'd noticed Tigris.

Roche's breath hitched, but no more tears fell.

"It's my fault," Roche whispered, "He was saving me."

"He was saving all of us," Tigris told her, squeezing Roche's wrist. A pang went through her at the disbelief on Roche's face. She'd failed, once again. What leader would let her purest citizen become this despondent, grieving person before her?

Tigris wouldn't fail her again.

"You must promise me," Tigris murmured, holding up Roche's too dry hands, "That when I'm gone, you'll be alright. That you'll take care of yourself."

Roche shrugged.. Tigris tightened her grip, unsure what to say. Roche spoke first, her eyes gleaming intently. "You're not going to be gone, Tigris. I won't let you die."

Tigris nearly snorted at that. She stepped back, letting Roche fasten the last pieces of armour. "Oh really? And what are you going to do? Politely ask the griffin to stop?"

"Maybe I will," Roche heaved in a breath, squaring her shoulders as she faced Tigris, "I'm coming with you."

She might as well have slapped Tigris across the face. "What?" Tigris sputtered.

Roche lifted her chin stubbornly, daring Tigris to argue. "I'm coming with you to fight the griffin."

Tigris stammered in disbelief. "You? But... Roche, you can't fight!"

"You're not going out there without me," Roche's eyes seemed to glow fiercely, making all the words in Tigris' throat clump together. "I'm your maid. I take care of you, it's what I do."

"Roche, I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking. I'm telling." Roche replied primly, adjusting Tigris' lapels with a small, shaky smile, "I know that I'm just your maid and you've always thought I'm an idiot-"

"I don't think that," Tigris told her instantly, truth cutting through the filter she usually kept over her words. Her cheeks warmed, and she hastily added, "Well, not all the time, at least."

The words won her a small smile. Roche smoothed out a wrinkle at her shoulder. "Whatever. My point still stands. This city is my home. I've walked beside you every day for the past four years. I'm not letting you go out there without me."

"But you'll die!"

Roche lifted a brow. "What makes you so sure?"

"You sure as hell can't fight."

"I've stood beside you in battle before-"

"Cowered, more like."

Roche cut her a stern look. "I've survived. I'm not a knight, but I know who I want to stand beside when that griffin comes," she paused, locking her eyes with Tigris. "I'm coming. I'm standing beside you, just as I've always done."

Tigris wanted to argue, but the words were true. Roche had always been at her side. She'd woken her up every morning and was the last face she saw at night. She was always there with her quips and dry humour and endless stories. She made boring court meetings livelier and knew which stalls in the market that Tigris preferred. She'd stood over Tigris when she was nearly dead, and had nearly died for Tigris in return.

Roche had always been there for her.

She could tell by the steel in the quiet woman's eyes that Roche wasn't going to stop being there for her now. She found that she didn't want her to stop either.

Tigris swallowed, staring at the woman who couldn't wield a sword yet wanted to fight. She watched the light play with Roche's cheekbones, turning the burnished ends of her hair chestnut brown. Roche shifted, and her eyes twinkled, hazel and matching the warm brown of her skin.

"Princess?" Roche whispered, her voice delicate and pleading, "Tigris. Let me come with you."

Tigris worked her jaw. In that moment, watching Roche stand there with a fierce gleam in her eyes, all she could think of was how beautiful the woman looked. The thought took her aback. Beautiful, brave, stubborn Roche, who wasn't taking no for an answer.

"Okay," Tigris whispered after a moment, "But you'll stay out of the way and don't you dare try to fight!"

Roche smiled cheekily, her eyes glancing up towards the doorway. "Alright, princess. I'm going to get your sword, I left it in the library."

"My sword? But it's right here-"

Roche had already fled through the doors. Tigris was ready to chase after her when she noticed another figure in her doorway. Her heart melted at the sight of Kai, warmth filling her. She hadn't realised she'd been keeping a brave face on for Roche until it crumbled the moment she saw Kai.

"Tigris," Kai breathed, the word pained and filled with wonderment all at once. She only twitched, her hands lifting in a pathetic gesture. But he understood.

He always understood her.

Kai crossed the distance between them, sweeping her into his toned arms. The steady thump of his heart pounded against her ear as his arms folded around her. He pressed a kiss to her hair.

"It's going to be okay, Tigris," he murmured, and gods, he always knew what to say. Tears were burning her eyes, nearly leaking out. She hid her face in his chest.

"It's really not,"

"Maybe," Kai answered, pulling away. His hand cupped her chin a bit hesitantly, but his eyes were strong and sure, "But you know what you need to do."

He sounded tired. Their love had been short but sweet and all encompassing. Tigris' heart ached in her chest.

"I wish we had more time," she confessed.

Kai's eyes immediately began to tear up. He grasped her wrist gently. "Me too," he swallowed, "But I don't regret a moment of it. I love you, Tigris."

The words made her heart skip a beat. She pressed closer, her hand reaching up to stroke his jaw. A shudder ran through his body at the loving touch.

"I love you too," she breathed before surging up, pressing her lips against his. They were a tangle of desperation, of moments never had. Kai's fingers reached up, weaving through her hair as he pulled her closer. Her knees buckled, a wave of need making her weak. But Kai was there for her.

He was always there for her.

He swept her up into his arms, armour and all. They both fell back against the bed, searing heat coursing through her wherever they touched. Tigris nestled herself against him.

"Kai," she murmured.

"Tigris," he replied back, ever the gentleman, "I love you."

"I love you too."

"I'd die for you."

"I will die for you."

"Not without me."

The words were jarring. Tigris sat up, knowing her face was flushed and her hair was wild, no longer in the tight bun Roche had left it. She gaped at him.

"What?"

Kai stared at her steadily. "I'm coming with you," he said firmly. When she blinked disbelievingly, he smiled.

Tigris was going to have a heart attack. "You can't!"

"Why not?" Kai asked, shuffling closer. His eyes gleamed in earnest.

Her heart ached. "Because," she murmured, a tear slipping down her cheek before she could stop it, "I've given everything to this kingdom. I've given it my heart, mind, soul, and now my life. But you are the one thing I cannot bear to give. You are mine, Kai."

He shivered as the words rolled over him. "I am yours," he agreed quietly, tasting each word like they were honey, "And you are mine."

The words sounded like a symphony on his lips. She clasped his hands gently, the simple touch making her nerves fire with lightning.

"Roche is already coming with me," Tigris muttered. Kai's eyes widened, and she squeezed his hands, "I will already lose a friend to this monster. I cannot lose you too. I won't be in my right mind during the battle if I know you will be lost with me."

Kai's eyes drifted shut, steeped with agony. "And you must be at your best," he murmured. His eyes opened again, and a small smile twisted his lips. "Because if anyone can defeat the griffin, it's you."

"Please," Tigris' voice quavered, desperation dragging her closer to him, "I can't stand any false words-"

"Why do you assume they are false?" Kai asked, with his usual steady gravity, "You've defied worse odds, Tigris. Why is this battle so different?"

"I don't know. It just feels different."

"Well," Kai's lips curved, "This world is what we make of it. And I think you'll make something wonderful of it. Roche told me once that you're destined to be a wonderful queen. I happen to agree. And you'll live through this night to make that destiny come true, I know it."

The words melted the fog of panic in her mind. Kai embraced her once more, carefully refastening the armour he'd undone.

"I trust you," Tigris whispered, "And I love you."

Kai smiled, giving her one last kiss on the cheek. "I love you too."

They let the words hang between them, pretending that there was no other future than the one they dreamed of together.

A/N: The more I write Tigris and Kai together, the more I realise that I cannot write romance for the life of me 💀

Sorry for not updating, everyone! I swear I'm not trying to abandon this story. I decided to try a new route home and got stuck on a road with no wifi and that unleashed a domino effect of epic proportions that unfortunately only freed me from work at midnight.

Hopefully this chapter makes up for it! There is a lot to unpack here. For one thing, TIGRIS NEARLY KILLED THE KING AGAIN!!! She really needs to make up her mind LOL.

Tigris: You need to die.

Romulus: 😮

Tigris: ...ok fine you can live.

As always, happy reading!