Chapter Text
"Are we there yet?"
Evgenia's eyes fluttered open at the sound of Alina's voice, the bumpy, rocky movements of the carriage having lulled her to sleep.
"Almost," replied the Queen from her seat opposite the two girls.
Evgenia's heart skipped a beat, and she sat up, her first instinct to peer out of the latticed window. A noisy din filled her ears as she worked herself out of sleep, and her eyes now began to focus on what seemed to be swarms of people bustling around the carriage. And then she noticed the colorful robes of pedestrians and the ornate lanterns hanging from the vendor shops and realized it could only mean one thing. They were already inside Heian City--and she was already missing the sights and sounds she had longed for so much.
Why hadn't the Queen woken them up?
Suddenly a muffled noise came from the girl next to her, and Evgenia turned her gaze from the scene to glance down at Alina's stomach.
"I'm hungry," the young princess blurted out.
That's why.
"You will have your portion for the day when you get to your room," the Queen replied simply.
"I'm thirsty, too."
This time the Queen huffed in response.
"You're competing tomorrow and you're asking for water today? Have you learned nothing from what I've taught you? You must be as light as possible to keep your agility."
"Just a little water?" Alina begged, and Evgenia's heart pinched. She cast a quick glance towards the Queen, whose lips had hardened in response.
"Zhenya..." The girl looked at her, hoping for support.
Evgenia shook her head. "You know the rules," she whispered to the girl. Alina leaned back, sighing in concession. When Evgenia looked back at the Queen, she saw a look of approval in return, a small smile and a nod.
Approval... for her obedience, she knew. It was one of the reasons Evgenia had climbed the ranks in the school, she had understood for awhile now--because she always followed the Queen's rules, because she never complained. In return, the Queen had rewarded her with extra attention and the best practice matches, and now she was a shining example, to the other girls--and even to the rest of the Three Kingdoms--of what could be accomplished by submission to the Queen.
But Zhenya was hungry, too. And not just for bread... for freedom. What would it be like to eat whenever she wanted, say whatever she wanted, go wherever she wanted? Her eyes drifted back to the carriage window, to the outside world. A young girl about her age flitted through the marketplace, holding hands with her friend, laughing, eating grilled meat from a skewer. Evgenia smiled softly. Maybe... someday... someday soon...
Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw it. A flash of black. Her heart thumped in her chest. She sat up straighter, pressing her face closer to the lattice, her eyes darting through the sea of colors making up the street scene. Had she been dreaming? Had it been something else? No, she would recognize it anywhere. She only seen it from a distance at the top of a stadium, a few times before, but how could she forget the rich darkness of his cloak and its hem glittering with golden threads? Gold, for the place he always took in competitions. Gold, the place she coveted, too.
She let out a longing sigh.
Who was freer than the Phantom? He went wherever he pleased, whenever he wanted, like a ghost, like the wind. Maybe... someday... she would be free, like that.
But what was he doing here in the market, of all places? Where he could be seen by anyone?
Well, it didn't matter. What mattered was that he was here already. He was here, and tomorrow, she would see him fight.
Any hunger she had felt in her stomach was now being quickly replaced by the feeling of butterflies. What were those for? she questioned herself. Was she even more excited to see his fight than to fight herself? No, of course, it was both. It was both. She shouldn't be thinking of his competition, when she should be thinking of her own preparation, after all. And then she bit her lip, unable to stop her grin.
But the Phantom fought first.
---
Evgenia pushed her way through the crowd, straining to see over the shoulders of the people in front of her. Nervousness and a touch of panic made her skin feel hot. It was starting soon, any minute she knew, and she had just barely been able to sneak away after her training session without the Queen noticing in order to make it to the Capital Arena in time. In time to see him. And she needed to be here, um... early.
"Excuse me, sir!" Evgenia latched onto the arm of a young guard. Finally, someone official who could help her.
"I'm one of the tournament competitors--from Moskuwa, and I--"
"I know who you are, milady," the guard said with a smile.
"You do?" Evgenia blurted, and then she stood up straighter, trying to regain her composure. "I mean--very good, sir. Can you please direct me to a seat where I can observe the match?"
"Do you mean to say that you don't have a ticket?"
Evgenia blushed. "I..."
The guard grinned. "With all due respect, Princess Evgenia, you do know what fight you're at, don't you?"
Evgenia swallowed, the blush stubbornly still there. "Of course I do."
"Then you know it's nearly impossible to get a seat without a ticket to see the Phantom."
Evgenia closed her eyes. "I know."
"I said nearly."
Evgenia looked up quickly, only to see the guard winking at her. He held out his arm.
"Come with me, Princess."
It took everything in her not to roll her eyes, now aware that the guard had been toying with her, perhaps in hope of gaining even greater favor in return. But it was nearly impossible to get in the stadium, and he did seem to know of a seat somewhere for her, so she took his arm and followed him, into the stadium, through the concourse, and up the stairs to the location he had in mind.
And then her breath quickened. It was a private box, mid-level, much better than the upper seats she usually had been able to sneak into for one of his fights. Within the box, other Heian nobles milled about, a few nodding in undisturbed acknowledgement of her presence when she entered.
"I shall see that you are rewarded, sir," Evgenia whispered her dismissal of the guard, practically floating towards the front of the box. From here, she would be able to see everything well--it was right above the judges box in the center of the stadium.
But there was no time to take in any more of her surroundings. Just then the gong sounded, signaling the entrance of the competitors--and then... the roar.
Chills covered her whole body as she looked towards the tunnel as the reason for the deafening screams entered the stadium. The Phantom.
Dressed in all black, his attire at first glance seemed simple, the only hint of any sort of flair the unmistakable gold on his cloak's hem. A dark black hood covered his head, and the lower half of his face was disguised with the same black fabric--the mask he was so well known for--leaving only his eyes visible.
But... his... eyes.
From here, she could see them clearer than ever, and they were glowing... glowing with an intensity that Zhenya was sure she, and nobody else here, had ever seen from anyone else in their lives. Almond shaped, they were dark and mysterious, just as he was, but they were lit with an almost unearthly fire.
"He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," gushed a Heian woman next to Evgenia, sounding close to tears. She almost turned to look at the woman to see--but she couldn't, her eyes transfixed on the man in front of her, like everyone else. His opponent had entered the stadium, too, but Zhenya was sure not a single person in the arena was looking anywhere else but straight at the Phantom.
What was it about him? The way he walked, how confidently he held his chin? Or was it his body--Evgenia blushed to even think of it--unusually slender for a swordfighter, but visibly strong even under his dark cloak. Or was it...
Magic?
Evgenia was sure she saw an otherworldly aura around him. And that cloak--she squinted at it even more closely as it swirled around him--it was... really glittering, wasn't it? As if it held its own power? No, that was just the mid-afternoon sun, right?
Besides, the Phantom didn't wear the cloak when he fought. Right about now--yes--it was the moment everyone--or at least every woman--in the stadium had been waiting for. Evgenia watched, her heart beating involuntarily faster. It was just him taking off his cloak, she chided herself, and she'd seen it before.
But then, he reached up, unfastening the clasp with gloved fingers--and then he removed the cloak, with a flourish. And then, as if by magic, the sun caught the sparkles of gold on its edge, sending dazzling rays of light across the entire arena, so bright it was almost blinding. It was spectacular and surreal, and the thunderous reaction in the stands was so loud this time, Evgenia could feel the ground beneath her trembling. She clutched the railing of the box to steady herself, watching, mesmerized, as he cast the cloak on the side boards of the stadium, stepping out into the arena. And then he turned to the judging box, towards her, and for a moment Zhenya wondered if she could even breathe. There in front of her stood the Phantom, his full form finally visible. A black metal breastplate highlighted his well-defined chest and narrow waist, and the shine of black leather emphasized his long, muscular legs. Small gold spikes along the top line of his shoulders hinted at his tenacity and prowess, and accents on his forearm guards glinted with the same gold. But as impressive as his armor was, Evgenia couldn't help but stare a bit at his arms, completely bare above those forearm guards, long and lean and veiny with bulges in all the right places. Nobody else dressed like this. Nobody else could.
He bowed to the judges, hand on the golden hilt of his sword, calmly, regally.
Yes. Oh, yes. He was beautiful.
Evgenia turned away, unable to cope with the feelings surging through her heart in this moment. In the next moment, she scolded herself. This was ridiculous--the screams from his adoring fans around her told her she was not the only one feeling like this--and that was precisely why she shouldn't feel like this--
But wait. How could she have turned away? Now was the time for... the moment she had been waiting for.
The Phantom was routine, superstitiously so, and Evgenia had memorized his entire sequence of preparation already. First, he would hold the sword to his forehead, touching it against his helmet. Then he would pace his end of the arena, crossing his body to find his center. His eyes would then close briefly. And then... he would look up, into the stands... at something--Evgenia didn't know what--but it was always at this moment that she felt... no, that was another ridiculous feeling, too. There was no way he would actually be looking at her... but somehow, it had always felt like that. And maybe this time, it would, too. And that feeling was worth it, every time.
She bit her lip as she saw him begin his routine. Like she was checking off boxes, she nodded with each step. The sword. The pacing. The crossing. His eyes, fluttering closed.
She bit her lip harder. His eyes stayed closed longer this time. Was he nervous? Was he... praying? Just then, his eyes flashed open, sending a little shiver down her spine. His eyes stared straight ahead.
"Now," Evgenia whispered.
As if he'd heard her somehow, the Phantom looked up, scanning the crowd for only a moment. But this time... Zhenya's heart skipped. This time... this was taking longer, too. His gaze was sweeping the crowds somewhere above her, his eyes narrowed in almost a frown. Half a second later, he had shifted his vision lower in the stands--and then she felt it. His eyes, on her. A thrill shot through her, from inside her heart all the way down to her fingertips. Like a bolt of lightning.
No, it was just her imagination. He couldn't have been--
The gong sounded again, signaling the beginning of the match. Instantly the Phantom moved into his opening position, unsheathing his sword faster than seemed humanly possible and striking a strong stance against his opponent. The crowd cheered with delight as he immediately took a high attack position with his sword instead of the traditional defensive one. The two fighters began to circle each other, customary to test each other, but rather than the usual, prolonged dance, the Phantom wasted no time, lunging forward with his first jab.
The sound of their blades clashing now filled the arena, loud and fast and strong. Zhenya held her breath, hyper-aware that this was the fastest first offensive she had ever witnessed. The opponent was already struggling to block the Phantom's preliminary blows.
And then--
Contact. Zhenya's heart beat outside her own chest. His first score, literally seconds into the fight. Had he ever scored so quickly? His opponent stumbled backwards, unharmed thanks to his armor, but stunned nonetheless.
Evgenia tried to applaud with the rest of the stadium, but found her palms clammy with nervous excitement.
Calm down, she told herself, forcing herself to take a deep breath. Focus. You're here to learn.
She riveted her eyes on the Phantom's feet, watching in awe as he moved smoothly across the floor of the arena, his steps pivoting and changing directions constantly so as to never give his challenger a clue of his next move. His footwork was sharp, precise, quick--and more advanced than hers, she admitted. Her eyes narrowed in concentration--but only for a little while, because then he attacked again, and her body vibrated with excitement and pride as the crowd screamed. She lost all thoughts about his footwork, mesmerized now by the sharp movements of his blade as he launched into a quick series of forward thrusts, his sword flashing in a mind-bending sequence of angles, his opponent blocking only the first few until he ultimately succumbed to the Phantom's power. Another hit, another score.
The crowd's roar had heightened to deafening levels once again, and Evgenia stole a glance at the challenger's reaction. His face fully visible, she could see his cheeks flushed, his brows knit together, his lips pressed into a hard line, a mixture of anger and embarrassment flickering in his expression. Everyone knew the Phantom was good--very good--but all the other opponents at the Tournament of the Three Kingdoms were supposed to be at the highest level as well, and this opening attack from the Phantom was unlike anything they had seen before. He couldn't have prepared for something like this--but Zhenya knew, and he must know--even if he had known, he was still utterly deficient when matched to the skill level the Phantom now possessed.
A guttural yell rose from the fighter's throat as he suddenly drove forward, finally setting an attack of his own. But even in this, the Phantom had the upper hand.
The Phantom spun backwards, crouching down for only a second before leaping up and returning, not with a defensive block, but with a counter-attack. Evgenia's hand flew to her mouth, gasping collectively with the rest of the audience. The risk... the danger... the gutsiness of that move.
But it was worth the risk. The Phantom scored again, his sword once again making the hit on his opponent's torso--just seconds before he was touched himself. Evgenia could barely contain her screams now. An amazing hit--but the opponent's move hadn't been completely in vain. He'd scored, too, and now Zhenya could see the evidence of it. Blood trickled down the Phantom's bare arm.
"He's hurt, he's hurt," a female fan wailed, only to be hushed by the men around her.
"He's fine," they insisted.
He was fine, Zhenya agreed, knowing scratches were always part of the job, and sometimes much worse than scratches. But... but...
For some reason, she found herself leaning a little further out over the railing, squinting, trying to see just how deep the cut was, if he was grimacing in pain, or---
Yank.
A sudden absence of air.
Evgenia's hands flew up to her throat as her collar was pulled backwards with a jerk. And then, her whole body was flung around, and she gasped both for breath and with panic as she stared up into the furious face of the Queen.
Her emotions completely dismantled, Evgenia cowered in fear and humiliation as the others around her shrank back from the woman.
"How dare you come here without my permission?" the Queen bellowed. "You have a match tomorrow and you're out here wasting time and energy?"
Evgenia blushed deeply, and the awareness that she should bow her head in submission to the Queen passed through her, but a moment later, an even stronger emotion surged ahead of it--that desire for freedom again--coupled with her need to see what happened to the Phantom out there, too. The match was still going on behind her, and just then--the crowd reacted, cheering.
Zhenya wanted to know why. And it killed her that she wasn't allowed to.
"I came here to learn from the best," Evgenia heard herself say, even though her insides were trembling at her own defiant tone.
"Insolence," the Queen spat out. Wasn't she the best? Evgenia knew she was thinking. But she wasn't. She was the worst.
"You will pay for this," she said as her long, hard fingers clasped around Evgenia's arm, dragging her out of the box.
Zhenya's feet followed the Queen, but her head almost involuntarily turned over her shoulder, allowing her one last look at the Phantom, his sword gleaming in the golden rays.
"It was worth it," Evgenia whispered under her breath.
"What was that?" the Queen snapped in reply.
Evgenia looked back at the woman, meeting her eyes with a steely gaze.
"Nothing."
---
"A fantastic win, Evgenia!"
The Queen's advisor patted her on the back as she exited the floor of the Wing Arena. Zhenya looked blankly at the man, sheathing her sword with a sharp zing.
"Who's next, Engauz?"
"Next? I--I'll check the schedule," Engauz replied, a bit flustered at her quick demand.
Zhenya lowered her chin, her eyes focused straight ahead, as they walked into the stone-walled tunnel beneath the smaller stadium reserved for the ladies' fights. She had heard the celebratory cheers and seen the elated expressions of all the other girls after each hard-earned win here, but she was in no mood to celebrate, not yet. Seven wins were already under her belt in the tournament, but there was nothing to be proud of until she won all 10. Taking time to bask in the glory of a singular victory would only be a distraction. And there was no time for distractions now... except...
"The Phantom wins again!!"
Zhenya's head whipped involuntarily over her shoulder as someone called out the news in the stands above her, her heart rate increasing.
"That was the semi-final, wasn't it?" Zhenya turned to Engauz. "For the men?"
Engauz nodded. "Seems like that injury in the first match didn't slow him down at all. It's as everyone expected--the Phantom against Nemesis in the final, tonight." He left her side briefly to consult with an official.
The Phantom and Nemesis.
Evgenia felt goosebumps rise on her skin. It would be the match of the year, of course. She had dreamt of watching it--but of course, it was impossible with the ladies tournament beginning after the men--and therefore still going on while they finished.
Just then, Engauz appeared once again by her side, breaking into her distracted thoughts.
"I've got the information now," he said as they walked. "Your next opponent has not yet been decided. The match will take place in a few hours still, which means your match against the winner will be tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow morning," Evgenia repeated, rolling the words around in her head. "That means I have time to..." Her feet slowed as they emerged from the stadium out onto the street, and her eyes drifted over and up, up, up. Directly next to the smaller Wing Arena, the large, impressive Capital Arena loomed.
"To...?" Engauz had paused too, and was now looking at her quizzically. Evgenia's heart skipped again.
"To rest," she filled in quickly, smoothly. "And, I hope, to prepare a little more."
"Excellent," Engauz said, and Zhenya breathed a little easier. "You'll be in perfect condition, then."
"Yes," Zhenya said. She should have made more conversation, she knew, but she couldn't now. Her head was already spinning, crafting her master plan of how to escape the palace and find her way back to the arena tonight. She had to watch the final. She had to watch the Phantom. The timing was too good to be true, the door opening wide like this. It was like it was meant to be.
Still, the Queen's warning echoed again in her head, and her severe expression at finding Zhenya at the opening match for the Phantom still burned in her memory. She shouldn't go without permission--but if she asked it, she was sure she would be denied.
Better to ask forgiveness later than permission now, Evgenia told herself.
Besides, tonight the Queen would probably be preoccupied with Alina, who had gotten quite far in the tournament already.
Now was her best chance.
---
"I hope you'll be very pleased with the seat I have for you tonight," the guard said with a sly smile as he escorted her through the concourse of the Capital Arena. He paused at one of the entrances, extending his arm to direct her further, down into stadium. "Nothing less than the best for the Princess of Moskuwa."
Evgenia was about to correct him that she was not the only princess of Moskuwa, but she was walking into the open arena now, and the realization of exactly where this seat was located swept over her as she looked up and down, to her right and then to her left. She gasped in delight. How was it possible that it was even better than last time? She was actually in the lower level now, only two sections from the floor, directly in the middle. She had never been this low in a stadium, ever, and in this moment she couldn't imagine a better vantage point than if she had been fighting herself.
"This is amazing," she breathed. "Thank you so much."
"Glad to be of service, milady."
Evgenia barely heard his words or saw his parting bow as she took her seat in the audience. All around her, voices buzzed in excitement, as they always did, but tonight it was higher in tone, the energy and anticipation palpable.
Tonight, the king of the Tournament of the Three Kingdoms would be crowned.
The king... the Three Kingdoms.
A nervous shudder rippled through Zhenya's body. No, there was no reason to think anything else would change because of this. That feeling in her stomach--it was only because of the match itself, nothing political.
Except if there was no politics involved here, why were... they here?
Her eyes had just landed on a private box almost directly across from her, filled with high-ranking officials and members of the council. Would they really all be so interested in a sword fighting match if nothing else was at stake? Evgenia scrutinized each of their faces as she identified them all, one by one, ending with the royals themselves--Queen Seiko of Heian, King Rafaeru of Nishi, and finally, the Crystal Queen of Moskuwa.
Wait.
Evgenia's throat went dry.
The Crystal Queen? She was here? Of course... of course she was, she had to be, if all the rest were. But if Evgenia could see her... that meant... that meant... the Queen could see her as well.
Evgenia looked frantically around her, trying to spot some object she could duck behind, but here on this lower deck there was nothing. She was completely exposed. It was only a matter of time before the Queen spotted her... and what then?
Just then the gong sounded.
Zhenya's heart thumped as loudly as the gong. What should she do? Stay and risk the Queen's wrath yet again, or leave and miss the greatest match of the season and lose out on cheering the Phantom in his fight to victory?
No, she couldn't stay. Her final--if she made it--was tomorrow, and the Queen would be by her side for that. She couldn't deal with all the pressure plus that woman's seething anger. There was no way she could stay.
And then, he stepped out into the stadium. The floor shook under her feet from the noise. And she knew there was no way she could leave.
She closed her eyes, wondering at the stupidity of her decision, but when she opened them, there he was, his magnetic aura drawing her in like it always did.
Whatever happened now, it would be worth it.
She watched with rapt attention as he went through his opening routine, her pulse increasing with every moment that passed, waiting, waiting for the part where he might look her way.
But she was in the lower part of the stadium today. What if... what if he couldn't find her?
Stop it, Zhenya. He doesn't even know who you are, she scolded herself.
Until her mind fought back.
But what if he does?
She was the number one ladies fighter, after all. Surely a man as dedicated to the sport would have at least heard of her. Maybe he admired her--her fighting. Like she admired his.
She watched his eyes, hopeful, in spite of herself. He looked up, right on time, scanning the audience. Another quick pass. And then, he was done. He looking down, withdrawing his sword, getting into position.
Zhenya felt her heart pinch. He hadn't found her. Or, more likely, he had never been looking. She looked away, a blush creeping up her neck and over her cheeks. What a fool she was. How could she have let herself imagine--
And then the gong rang. The match was starting. It was no time to think about that now. Now, he would fight.
It was only now that she took notice of Nemesis, wearing a plain, black, loose fitting robe. She scoffed a little, shaking her head. Even in his appearance, it always seemed to Evgenia that Nemesis just did not care to be there. He was good, to be sure, but always a little sloppy, wanting in finesse, lacking precision. He was known for his strength--he was stockier than the Phantom--but with that strength came heaviness of foot and a more ungainly style. Still, the judges loved his powerful hits--and, being a prince himself, he was garnering a share of fans. But Zhenya would always prefer the Phantom. Even in his quietness she could feel his passion, and with every move he made she could tell the hours of training and practice he had put into perfecting his craft. And that's why he would win, she was confident. Because he wanted it more.
But halfway through the match, Zhenya's confidence was wavering. Not in the Phantom, but in the judges. How was it that the Phantom had already received multiple errors, and Nemesis none at all? She had one of the best seats in the house, and she had not seen a single misstep of the Phantom's, yet three errors were registered against him in the judging box. Nemesis had lost his grip on his sword twice, and the judges hadn't seen that at all? Something was wrong. The Phantom had landed more hits than Nemesis so far, but with those errors, their score was even. And with how fast the match was going right now, it was unlikely he even knew the score or what ground he had to make up to win.
Zhenya gripped the edge of her seat as the fight continued on. Just then, Nemesis launched into a heavy offensive attack, his blade clashing loudly against the Phantom's. One hit, then two hits landed, and Zhenya could hear pockets of his fans cheering around her. Nemesis was in the lead by two. Her nails dug into her palms. Time was ticking.
Come on, she willed the Phantom. Answer back.
And then he did. A sudden thrust forward when Nemesis least expected it, and the Phantom struck him directly in the middle of his chest. Zhenya was on her feet, roaring with the rest of the crowd, but she quickly brought herself back, as if she was in the fight herself.
Don't get caught up in the emotion. Keep your head in the game. There's only a little time left.
Only a little time left.
Zhenya inhaled sharply. The... score. The Phantom was still behind.
Without thinking, she leaned out over the railing.
"More!" she yelled. "You need more!"
There was no way the Phantom could have heard her in the crazy noise of that crowd, but somehow, he must have felt it, too, because now he was driving forward again, his sword pounding mercilessly against Nemesis' as he pushed him backwards, forcing Nemesis into uncomfortable footwork. The score might be in Nemesis' favor, but the momentum was all the Phantom's.
And then... he scored.
It was the hardest hit Zhenya had ever seen from the Phantom, as if he had summoned a strength outside his own body's capability. Nemesis' shoulder took the brunt of the hit, but then the Phantom's blade ricocheted off his armor, the tip of his blade slicing down his arm through his outer robes.
When the Phantom pulled his sword back, it dripped with Nemesis' blood.
In stunned silence, Evgenia watched in disbelief as Nemesis stumbled backwards. And then...
He fell.
Shocked gasps rose from the audience all around her, and then more as the Phantom closed in.
On a fall there were no rules. The Phantom did not have to wait for Nemesis to stand up again. He could continue attacking as soon and for long as he wanted to. Others, in the heat of the battle, had attacked to the death.
He wouldn't, Zhenya breathed her answer to the question everyone was asking.
But the Phantom's eyes were burning again, so intensely it almost scared her. He needed one more score in order to win. He would have to strike Nemesis in this vulnerable position, and a man with this level of passion, in this competition of the highest of stakes... what was he capable of?
What kind of man was the Phantom? Was he... good?
The Phantom charged, his sword in both hands, above his head. Nemesis scrambled pathetically on the ground, unable to regain his footing. And then...
Tap.
Zhenya's heart almost burst open. A light hit on Nemesis' opposite shoulder--an act of mercy but also a total power move. The Phantom was good... and he was also... badass.
And the look in his eyes said it all. A woman near Zhenya nearly swooned.
As the gong rang, the Phantom reached down, offering his opponent a hand. The stadium went wild. Zhenya swelled with even more pride.
And then suddenly it hit her. The Phantom had won. The Phantom was the new Champion of the Three Kingdoms. And not only that, he had won battling an injury and against an opponent the judges had seemed to favor. It was better than she had even dreamed. As the crowd celebrated tumultuously around her, she stood still, staring out at the Phantom, whose eyes were still glowing. But now she knew it was the glow of a man who had just accomplished a dream. A magical, miraculous dream.
She was so happy for him.
But she would have to celebrate later. The fact that she had escaped the Queen's eye was her own special miracle, but she couldn't push her luck anymore. Besides, she did need to rest. Tomorrow she would fight to win as well.
As she flitted through the crowds back to the palace, her heart beat with the same dream.
---
Steady. You've done this hundreds of times. You've always beat her.
Evgenia circled slowly, deliberately, around her opponent.
Except... that one time.
She tried to push the dark thought away. Why was she doubting herself now? She knew she was better than Alina. She'd basically helped train Alina. She had expected her to go far in the tournament. She had expected to face her along the way.
What she hadn't anticipated, though, was to see the younger girl across from her here, in the final. And she hadn't expected the flash in her eyes, her cool composure, or the confident lift of her chin.
"You seem pretty relaxed," Zhenya had commented when they'd faced each other at the start of the match.
"I'm going to win, Evgenia."
"Let's see about that," Zhenya had responded, narrowing her eyes and taking her stance.
"Yes, we shall see," Alina had retorted.
Evgenia had been sure sure as soon as the match begun, Alina's composure would falter, and her true emotions would show as they so often did. But to her surprise--they had not, and now they were in the middle of the duel, and Alina was still as confident as ever, matching score for score, and coming at her with unforeseen aggression.
Like... now.
Just then, Alina's sword struck hers with unusual strength, especially unusual when she could have taken the chance for a scoring hit instead.
Crack.
Zhenya's heart jumped. What was that?
And then her sword struck Alina's again. Suddenly, she felt it. Her worst fear. The hilt of her sword, splintering under her grip.
Instant panic shook her body. What? How? Why... now?
Her fingers wrapped tightly around the handle, willing it to stay together. But Alina's blows were coming faster now, and her concentration was completely thrown.
A hit.
Evgenia tripped from the force, and the sound of the crowd gasping seemed to crash over her like a tidal wave, threatening to push her all the way to the floor. As if in slow motion, Zhenya looked down at her sword, quivering in her hands as her body reeled backwards. Was it over? Was she going to lose, like this? After all she'd worked for? And then, her eyes landed on the thin red cord, tied around the hand that still held the cracked wood together.
No.
Instinctively, Zhenya tightened her stomach muscles, solidifying her core to protect her balance.
I won't lose. I can't lose. Not here. Not when I promised myself... not when I promised... him.
Yuzuru.
Her wobble settled, her feet firmly planting into the ground as she set again. This time, the crowd roared for her. Zhenya caught sight of Alina's eyes flickering, nerved. Yes, the crowd was on Evgenia's side. Did that... bother her?
And then Alina's eyes narrowed, and she thrust forward, her sword striking low against Evgenia's--too low--near the handle.
Evgenia jumped back, startled. Did she... know? But there had barely been a sound when the wood had broken--she'd felt it more than heard it. How could she possibly have known?
But there was no time to waste thinking about how Alina had guessed her weak point so well. Evgenia gritted her teeth to summon all her willpower, and maybe by some miracle to even channel the strength she'd gotten from watching the Phantom.
Fast, quick, sharp. In her mind's eye, she replayed the footwork the Phantom had executed, and somehow she found her feet following the pattern. Almost instantly, she could feel Alina's imbalance. They had trained so often together, the other girl was used to a certain rhythm from Evgenia, and now it was obvious she was suddenly confused by the change of pace.
Perfect.
Evgenia took advantage of the moment, attacking without warning.
She scored, sending Alina backwards in shock. But it only took her a moment to recover, and now the girl angrily rushed at her. Evgenia, still struggling with her hold on the sword's handle, just barely staved the younger princess off from slicing through her arm, the strike landing instead on her breastplate. It was a score for Alina, though, and Evgenia needed to return with her own score as soon as possible.
Alina was ready with a double-attack, though, and Evgenia didn't have time to reset before the next round would come. And then, she remembered the move the Phantom had pulled off. Could she do it? She had to try.
She crouched low, then leapt forward--just as he had done--dodging Alina's strike completely. In the same moment, she reached forward with her own attack, and Alina, her sword unable to block due to her forward thrust, was unprepared to defend herself at all. Evgenia landed a solid, resonating hit, and the crowd screamed in delight.
Alina snarled in frustration, slapping away Evgenia's sword. But it was too late.
The gong rang.
The match was done. Evgenia's heart thumped wildly. Was it really over? But... who had won? She looked at the judges, but the preliminary scores had already been lowered, and there was no call for the winner yet as they seemed to still be deliberating. Evgenia tried to count the scores in her head on her own, but the incident with the sword had blurred everything in her mind. No. She ran through the hits again. There was enough. She should win. She had won.
She looked at the judges again. Still nothing. She swallowed. What was taking them so long?
And then, the call came. A red flag was raised.
Evgenia's heart stopped. But... her flag was blue. Alina's was red.
Alina... had won.
In the stands, there was an stunned moment of silence at the sight of the raised flag, followed quickly by applause. "Alina!" someone in the crowd yelled, and finally there sounded the delayed cheers.
But on the floor, Zhenya stood frozen, her feet nailed in place, her lungs unable to draw air. I didn't win.
This can't be happening.
And then her blood rushed. This shouldn't be happening. Suddenly her body sprang forward, and the next thing she knew she was racing to the tunnel entrance, where the Crystal Queen stood. Behind her, someone was placing flowers around Alina's neck.
"Something is wrong," she blurted even before she got there. "They've counted wrong. I know the hits I had--"
"I'm sorry, my child," the Queen said, reaching forward and pulling her into her arms. "I know how much you wanted this."
"What?" Evgenia reeled back. "Didn't you hear what I said? There's been a mistake."
"There's no mistake, Evgenia."
Evgenia shook her head furiously, but without her permission tears began to fall. "No. There has to be. I--"
The Queen shook her head in return, her lips pressed together in pity. "You might have had the hits, Evgenia. But you also had an error. It's a deduction."
"An error? What... error?"
"You nearly fell, don't you remember?"
"Nearly," Zhenya shot back. "I didn't actually fall."
"It's still a deduction."
"Since when?" Zhenya was almost yelling now.
The Crystal Queen's eyes darted around, checking for onlookers. "Quiet now, Zhenya. This is not a good look."
"I don't care!" Zhenya hissed, lowering her voice anyway. "Stumbling should not be--"
"Enough!" the Queen said through gritted teeth. "It is up to the judges to decide if it breaks the rules or not. It certainly altered your rhythm."
"We can contest it," Evgenia sputtered. "We can--"
"Stop this, Zhenya. Be gracious to your teammate."
Zhenya looked at the woman briefly. And then she blurted it out.
"My sword broke. That's why I stumbled."
The Queen let out a huff. "Really, Zhenya. I can't believe your behavior. Making up excuses like this."
"Excuses?" Zhenya repeated, the tears streaming down again. She shoved her sword toward the woman, barely hearing the gasps that rose up from the audience behind them. "See for yourself. The hilt is cracked."
The Queen looked away, refusing the sword. "I've heard enough of this. You are being ridiculous."
Zhenya stared at the woman, her mouth open but silent now. And then she blinked, as if her vision had suddenly cleared. Yes. I should have known you would never help me.
She backed away, a few more tears streaking down her cheeks. She reached up, wiping them away. And then she sheathed her sword, turning back to the floor.
It was over. She had lost. Now, she must congratulate Alina.
---
A small, tentative knock sounded on the door outside her private chambers that night, so quiet that Evgenia barely heard it over the sound of her own weeping. Yes, she was still crying.
She had put her emotions aside for the winners ceremony, smiling for the crowds, standing on the podium in second place. Their cheers when her name was called had been genuine, bringing some warmth to her heart, but Evgenia had not been fighting for their cheers. She had been fighting to win, for a different reason, and now none of that could be realized.
She held it together until the moment the door to her room closed behind her, and then, the floodgates opened, and her sobbing had continued for more time that she would ever admit to anyone.
But someone was here now, and she needed to stop. She swept away a few more tears as she made her way to the door, and then she took a deep breath. She opened the door.
And then, she sucked in her breath again.
"I brought you something," said the Queen.
A gown. No. A consolation prize.
"It's beautiful," Evgenia said ruefully, reaching out and touching the shimmering green fabric, running her fingers over the black velvet embellishments and swirls. "If only I had somewhere to wear it."
"You're still invited to the banquet," the Queen replied, and Evgenia's eyes looked up.
"Really?" she said in hopeful surprise. And then she looked down again. "I didn't win. I shouldn't go. I... can't go."
"You must go," the Queen said firmly. Evgenia blinked. She was serious, wasn't she?
"Doesn't it start in a few minutes?" she still hesitated. "Look at me."
"You were invited. You cannot refuse," the Queen said severely, and then, as if something like remorse had touched her, her shoulders relaxed a little, her face softening. "You'll feel better if you go, child."
How could I possibly feel any better? Evgenia wondered.
The Queen abruptly pushed the gown into her arms.
"He will be there," she said quickly, and then, just as quickly, she disappeared down the hall.
"Who?" Zhenya asked, to no one, now. And then she caught her breath.
The Phantom.