Free Flawless//Broken by Sara Wolf Page A

are you different?”
    “That’s none of your concern,” I snap. “The Mutus sent a horde of them after you. They nearly killed you. Will you believe me now? You must submit to the Sage Council. They’ll find you an alchemist to protect you.”
    “You protected me just fine.”
    “You cannot be my Azoth. I can’t take that risk.”
    “What risk?” She frowns. “That you’ll drain me dry?”
    “That I’ll kill you,” I hiss. “Homunculi hunger has destroyed lives.”
    “Did it destroy Amelie’s?”
    Even after centuries, her name is a stab in my chest.
    “It’s none of your business,” I snarl.
    “That’s a yes, then,” Mia says evenly. “Did you kill her?”
    “You,” My anger is hot and instant. “How dare you -”
    “How dare I? How dare you ?” She snaps. “How dare you drag me into this crap! I was fine - I was getting better. I moved here to get away from blood and shitty things like death. But you’ve brought it all back to me, and now I’ll never escape it. I’ll never be free, will I? This Sage Council will control my life and decide it for me, won’t they?”
    “You can choose. They give you options.”
    “But they won’t, not with me,” She says. “You said the really good alchemists are rich, right? They’ll bid on me, and the highest bidder will win. That’s how it always works. Money talks, even if you can make fire and kill a bunch of people in an instant.”
    Her intuition is startling, and correct. In my excitement at finding such strong Azoth, I forgot what happens to it. People like her are scooped up by the richest alchemists - not the ones who can do the most good. Not the most talented. Genevieve’s Azoth is strong, and she was bought by the Belgian Duke of Brabrant, a rich man, but an altogether lackluster alchemist. Because the Duke offered so much, the Sage Council told her she had no say in the matter. She lives a rich life, but it’s a life with little freedom. I shudder to think which horrifically spoiled alchemist will buy Mia just for the bragging rights.
    “Our society has degraded,” I agree. “You’re right. Alchemists are more concerned with status and power than doing what’s correct, and for that, I apologize.”
    “Why? You’re not one of them.” She shrugs.
    “I could have been, if not for Amelie. And now you’re entangled in it all, because of me.”
    Guilt sears me, hot and strong. I didn’t want to bring an innocent into our fold, but I did. I have. And there’s no going back. I can see it in her hazy, exhausted eyes. She knows it too. Her face is white.
    “I forgot,” I say. “You donated Azoth - you must replenish it. You need something to eat, and a warm drink -”
    “I just…I just need to rest my eyes for a second…” She trails off, eyes fluttering. She falls forward, and I barely catch her. Her body is soft, every curve pressed against me. The scar on her jaw stands out against her pale skin. Her smell of honey is subdued, mulled; like sweet mead on a summer’s night, and she’s asleep faster than I can say a word. The way her body shapes itself in my arms feels correct - like it’s meant to be here and only here. But those are foolish thoughts. She is meant to be with someone who will never harm her.
    I lay her on the divan, and cover her with my jacket.
    “Forgive me, firebird.”
     
     

     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    PART SEVEN
    SEVEN
     
    Chapter 7
    SEVEN
    1493 France - Reign of Charles the VIII
     
    Darius Montclaire reigned his horse’s gallop to a trot. The handsome red was a gift from King Charles for Darius’ work on the Queen’s birthday present; a stunning row of silver priory beads, alchemized with a ward against pox and plague. The pregnant queen needed all the health she could get - with her husband shuttling her between castles, Darius feared she would miscarry. He wasn’t fond of many women, but Queen Anne was both intelligent and a caring mother, with a fresh, direct common sense he