Once An Eve Novel

twenty-nine



THE STILLNESS OF THE SUITE WAS INTOLERABLE. LATE THAT night, I sat on the edge of the bed, the minutes passing slowly. The moonlight cast strange shapes on the floor, menacing black shadows that hovered around me, my only company. There was no more pretending. A soldier stood outside my door now. Caleb was somewhere beyond the City center, sitting in some cell, both of us waiting, each hour bringing us closer to the end.

Footsteps echoed in the hall. The knock on the door raised the fine hairs on my arms. The King came in, flicking the lights on, the brightness stinging my eyes. “They said you wanted to talk, Genevieve.” He sat down in the armchair in the corner, his hands folded together, his chin resting on his knuckles as he watched me. “Did you think about what I said? It’s a matter of safety—yours and mine.”

“I did,” I replied. Outside, the sky was flecked with stars. The sun had disappeared hours before, slipping behind the mountains. I picked at the thin skin around my fingernails, wondering if I could actually say it out loud. If I had the courage to make it real. “I can’t let you punish Caleb for something he didn’t do. I did it. I told you—I was the one who shot those soldiers.”

The King shook his head. “I’m not having this conversation again. I won’t—”

“You said I’m supposed to be with someone like Charles, that there are expectations for me as the Princess. But I can’t spend another day here knowing Caleb is dead. That he was punished for something I did.” My voice cracked as I said it. The soldiers were everywhere now, some wandering the hallways, others stationed beside my door. There was no way out. I took a deep breath, thinking of what would happen to Caleb after the Lieutenant testified, if he’d be tortured, how he’d be killed. “I’ll marry Charles if that’s what you want—if that’s what you think I’m supposed to do. But you have to let Caleb go.”

The King stared at me. “It’s not just what I want—it’s what the City wants. It’s what makes sense. You would be happy with him. I know you would.”

“So you’ll agree to it?”

The King let out a long, rattling breath. “I know you can’t see it now, but this will be the best for everyone. Charles is a good man, has been so loyal and—”

“Tell me you won’t hurt him.” My throat was tight. I couldn’t listen to any more about Charles, as if marrying him would suddenly open up something inside me, a riptide of feeling, threatening everything I’d ever known. As if love were a choice.

The King stood and came toward me. He rested his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll have the soldiers release him beyond the walls. But from now on, there will be no more talk of this boy. You’ll pursue a future with Charles.”

I nodded, knowing that tomorrow it would all feel much heavier. But right now, sitting in my suite, it was bearable. Caleb would go free. There was possibility in that—hope, even. So long as Caleb was alive, there was always hope. “I want to say good-bye,” I said. “Just one last time. Will you take me to him?”

The King stared out the window, beyond the City. I closed my eyes, listening to the air coming through the vents, waiting for him to respond. All I could see was Caleb’s face. Last night we lay awake, his head resting against my heart. The plane was silent. I almost have it, he’d said, his eyes half-closed. One more time. I slipped my hand beneath the blanket, pressing my finger into his back and dragging it along his skin, spelling the letters out one by one, slower than before. When I was finished he looked up, his nose practically touching mine, a smile curling on his lips. I know, he’d said, burying his face into my neck. I love you, too.

When I opened my eyes, the King was still standing there. He turned away from the window. Without saying a word he opened the door, his hand up, gesturing for us to go.


THE PRISON, A MASSIVE COMPLEX SURROUNDED BY A BRICK wall, was a ten-minute drive from the City center. Two of the seven watchtowers were in use, the guards stationed high above the ground, their rifles at the ready. They’d shown me into a concrete room with a table and chairs bolted to the floor. The King stood outside with a guard, both of them watching me. I sat there, my fingers rapping nervously on the metal.

A minute passed. Maybe two. Memories piled on top of one another—moments between us—the feel of the horse beneath us as we hurdled over the ravine, the dank, earthy smell of the dugout on our skin. He’d grabbed my hand that night as we walked through the cool corridor, the warmth of it sending a fiery charge up my arm. It spread out in my chest, shot down my legs, awakening feeling in every inch of me, electrifying even my toes. Until then I’d been half-alive, his touch the only thing that could wake me from that sleep.

A guard led Caleb inside. They’d ruined his face. A bloody gash stretched from his right brow to his hairline, splitting his skin. His cheek was pink and swollen. He was hunched over, still in the same wrinkled shirt he’d put on that morning, buttoned all wrong, blood dried black around the collar.

“Who did this?” I asked, barely able to get the words out. I pulled him close, hating that they hadn’t untied his hands, that he couldn’t touch my face or thread his fingers through my hair.

“All of them,” he said, his words slow. He rested his chin on my shoulder. I ran my hand along his back, wincing as I felt the welts where the baton had landed. I touched each one, wishing we could go back to the night before, wishing we could undo everything that had happened since we awoke.

“They told me they’re releasing me outside the walls,” he continued. “That I can’t come within five hundred miles of the City again. What did you say to them?”

The King was just outside the door, his profile visible in the tiny window. I looked down at the concrete. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “It was the only way I could get them to let you go.”

Caleb lowered his head. “Eve—tell me. What did you say?” he asked, his face screwed up with worry.

I leaned in, my arms wrapped around his sides. “I said I would marry Charles Harris,” I whispered. “That if they let you go I would …” I trailed off, my throat tight. Standing by the fountain that day, Charles had appeared harmless, sweet even. The moment had been a welcome respite from the Palace. But now every word he’d spoken seemed steeped in ulterior motives. I wondered how many conversations he’d had with the King—if he always knew we were both speeding inevitably toward this, a future that bound us together.

Caleb shook his head no. “You can’t, Eve,” he said. “You can’t.”

“We don’t have any other options,” I said. The guard’s eyes were on me, his stare boring into my skin.

Caleb leaned down, trying to meet my gaze. “We can find some way. Once you marry him there is no more you and me—there’s no more us. You can’t.”

“I don’t want this either,” I said, my voice threatening to break. “But what other choice do we have?”

“I just need more time.” His voice was pleading, desperate. “There has to be a way.”

The King rapped twice on the door. “Time’s up,” the guard called. He stepped forward, glancing outside at my father. I leaned in, trying to pull Caleb to me one last time, holding the back of his head to bring his chin to my shoulder. I kissed his cheek, felt the tender skin around the gash, let my fingers stroke his temple.

“You have to stay away from here. Promise me you will,” I said, my eyes watering. I knew that if he had any chance he’d use the tunnels to come find me. “We can’t do this again.”

The guard approached him, yanking his arm. Caleb leaned in, his lips right against my ear. He spoke so low I could barely make out what he said. “You’re not the only one in the paper, Eve.”

I looked at him, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words, but the guard was already taking him away. As he dragged him by the arm, Caleb shuffled backward, trying to keep his balance, his eyes searching my face for understanding.