Chapter 10: The Phoenix Returns

My reunion with my father was unpleasant. At the family dinner, after a few rounds of bourbon, Dad wept, telling me how hard it was to guard the city, how poor the people were. I looked at the table full of steak and mashed potatoes, and suddenly tears rolled down. I pitifully said, “Dad, I’m so hungry, so bitter—I missed you so much. The White House was dark and big, I was so scared. People bullied me, I was almost killed many times. I haven’t eaten such good food in so long.”

Robert Hayes was silenced, pretending to comfort me. “We father and daughter will never be apart again.” The bearded man wiping tears looked the part.

No, we will, Dad—in life and death. How delightful.

I sobbed and agreed; Dad finally tired of coaxing, left on business.

After Robert Hayes left, he received urgent news—the Dakota tribes had invaded. The Dakota was a middling border force; many such existed on the frontier. This time, it was just routine harassment. Robert Hayes, wanting to vent his anger, called Ethan Winters to prepare trucks and troops, then left the city.

After he left, I dismissed the staff. Chewing jerky, I recalled many things.

The first time I ate venison, I was six. Mom was seeking materials for my Liberty Saber; I forged it under her guidance. We went hunting; Dad shot a deer and said it belonged to his pearl. Pearl was me. I personally killed the deer and offered it to my parents as stew.

When Ethan’s men came, I realized I was crying uncontrollably. Then I got up, looked at the darkening sky—beauty frozen in yesterday.

I went to the armory; on the top floor were the seven blades Mom had forged for me. Fearing she wouldn’t live to see me grown, she had forged them early. I drew the best one—the blade sang brightly.

At the stables, Luke Hayes was there, trying to approach my horse, holding fresh carrots. “Starlight, Starlight, let me ride you and I’ll give you this.” He saw me; Starlight neighed, wagged her tail, unusually lively.

Luke, surprised, tried to touch. Unexpectedly, he was kicked meters away, the fence shaking. He got up, blood trickling, furious. “Beast, I’ll kill you—”

Then he saw me, mouth dry, blood on his tongue, clearly reluctant to call me miss.

I sneered, “Kill who? My horse?”

By then, I was stroking Starlight, glossy and well-fed. Starlight recognized my steps, had waited long, nuzzled me affectionately—more like a dog than a horse.

I tapped her nose, then suddenly asked, “You’re Luke Hayes?”

He looked away. “Yeah.”

“Robert Hayes’s illegitimate son, right?” I approached, the light dim.

Luke, still on the ground, stiffened, panicked. He barely propped himself up, swallowed, “...Miss, you’re joking.”

I shook my head; the blade flashed. Guards tried to drag him out. I wiped the blood from my face, stopped them, gently closed his open eyes, straightened his collar. After all, siblings. I mocked, leaning close to his ear, “Go meet Robert Hayes. Your mother, brother, and sister will soon join you. Tell Robert Hayes to kneel and apologize to my mother.”

Then, mounting my horse, I shot out of the city like an arrow. Troops followed, raising dust.

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When I arrived, the battle was fierce. Robert Hayes didn’t know why the Dakota were so mad today, bringing so many and fighting so desperately. He didn’t know the Dakota were just a pawn. I had used three hundred bushels of grain and stable trade routes to buy off the largest northern tribe; the Dakota were just a lure and an expendable piece.

Foreigners eliminated his hidden danger; I killed my enemy—mutually beneficial.

He brought only a few confidants and dozens of guards, struggling to hold out. Ethan Winters, seeing me, brightened and shouted, “Boss is here! Boss came to save us!”

I glanced at the bodies—all Robert Hayes’s loyalists. Ethan, though ragged, was energetic, only suffering superficial wounds.

Robert Hayes, hearing this, shuddered and saw me galloping in, valiant and calm. He seemed to understand, forced a bitter smile. Suddenly, he slumped, struck from behind. Blood at his mouth, Ethan grabbed him and made way—the Dakota leader struck his vital point.