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“lizzie.”
lizzie turns to the voice, half startled out of her thoughts. it takes a moment for her to realise that martyn is knelt at her feet, head bent, but she recognises the stance immediately—ren once knelt to her in the same way.
in a rush, she understands the situation at hand: martyn will offer his allegiance, and lizzie will accept it. martyn—and jimmy, once martyn has recruited him—will protect her from anything that seeks to harm her, and lizzie will offer him the memories he wishes to relive. at least, that’s what martyn thinks the situation is.
but lizzie has had enough of being a pawn in someone else’s fantasy. she knows far more than martyn expects, and lizzie intends to use her upper hand to hurt. after all, it’s not like she and ren never talked.
“martyn.” lizzie takes satisfaction in the iciness of her own voice.
martyn doesn’t say anything to suggest that he has been affected by her coldness, but his knuckles whiten around the sword he grasps. lizzie smiles. “it was through mine and jimmy’s actions that your untimely death took place. we know we can never give your life back, but we humbly offer you our unyielding loyalty, and ask for your forgiveness.”
lizzie doesn’t speak for a long moment, waiting for martyn to tremble against the hard floor. she always made ren get up before the stones in the fairy fort cut too deeply into his knees, but all of a sudden, lizzie finds she takes interest in the pain—obvious in the slight tremors that run through martyn’s body as he struggles to keep himself upright.
“there is something you could do.” she says at last. “you could die for me.”
martyn’s half-stifled gasp is pleasantly sharp with fear, and lizzie finds herself enjoying it. who knew? she could get used to this undying loyalty business.
“but,” lizzie continues. “that wouldn’t do me much good. other than entertainment, of course.”
still kneeling, martyn remains silent. huh. lizzie could get used to this.
“i’ll accept your offer.” lizzie decides, and some of the tension in martyn’s body drains. “on one condition.”
“yes, my- queen.” martyn’s voice is strained, hitching for barely a second. it’s almost as if he was about to say ‘my king’, lizzie muses.
how ridiculous.
“joel is not harmed.” all traces of amusement leave lizzie’s voice, and she can practically hear martyn’s face pale.
martyn pauses for a fraction of a moment. “understood, my queen.”
“rise.” lizzie says, turning so her back is all martyn can see.
lizzie can hear martyn stand, the quiet wince at the cuts he undoubtedly gained from that transaction, the following silence as he collects himself. incidentally, lizzie had turned in a way that means she is directly facing joel’s fairground. funny, how these things work out.
“is jimmy with you?” lizzie asks.
“I will tell him, my queen.” martyn says. “if he is not already, he shall be soon.” his tone suggests that this is more than a fact; it’s a threat.
lizzie smiles humourlessly. martyn was always one for the theatrics, wasn’t he? “good.” she tells him. “you may go.”
she hears martyn pause, and then turn, beginning to walk away. glancing over her shoulder, lizzie calls out to him.
“martyn.”
martyn stops abruptly and turns almost at once. lizzie almost laughs.
“you seem to be an adequate knight.” lizzie tells him. “thank you, hand.”
the reaction is immediate and immensely satisfying. martyn flinches at the name, involuntarily. his eyes meet lizzie’s, and she can see the exact moment he spots that shine of mirthful malice in her own—the exact moment he realises she has absolutely no intention of playing along with him. lizzie knows every weak spot, every chink in martyn’s armour, and she is entirely prepared to exploit them for her own benefit- for her own amusement. it’s a warning, of sorts. a warning that, if he ever crosses her, she will do something far worse than killing him.
she will break the laws of time and space to make martyn watch her kill the person he loves most right in front of him.