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Fiction

Princess in a tower

They always arrive in groups at solstice. Five or more at a time. One year, the solstice brought 16. It was good for the economy. Her uncle was right on that account. She had counted 8 banners over two days. It took them two more days to get their camps established. Thousands of people. So many of them. It was a bad sign. There would be a lot of death.

Hippolyta was tired of death, but death was the choice they left her with. Is it really a choice if there is only one option? The old men would knock soon. They would make their opening statements. Present their opinions on how valuable her life was. Her worth. How many lives she could save. The cost was always the same. The cost was death. Her death or their death. Her people or their people. Her coffee was cold. She threw it back anyway. The tapestry rustled. Jane arriving with a tray.