“Why now?” I ask, my eyes traveling over him.
Three days ago, this man admitted to me how he stayed ageless and how the war came to be. I still can’t wrap my mind around how he can look at himself in the mirror every day, or why my heart hasn’t stopped aching for him.
Montes turns to look back at the screen. “We’ve destroyed numerous cells over the last several days.”
The cells I’d told the king about. So this was a direct result of my efforts.
“How bad is it?”
That vein in Montes’s temple pulses.
“You haven’t been able to completely stop the leak, have you?” I say. He’d been so sure.
That’s how kings fall. Hubris.
Montes glances away from the screen, piercing me with his gaze. It’s an explosive look, one full of vicious protectiveness. For all his wicked deeds, he doesn’t just care about himself. No, he cares fiercely about me too.
“It’ll be taken care of,” the king says. The edge in his voice makes me think more people will die.
I back out of the room and leave the king to his collusions. This isn’t my battle. It once was, but no longer. I’ve already surrendered.
Over the next week, Bedlam breaks out across the globe. The king isn’t able to suppress the footage of me, and it’s done exactly what the Resistance intended: sparked rebellion.
Uprisings pop up across continents, some more organized than others. The Resistance spearheads many of them, and they’re the most destructive. Provincial governments are demolished, the king’s research labs burned, armories ambushed. Reports suggest the group’s numbers have nearly doubled since the video leaked, and membership was already in the hundreds of thousands.
I rub my forehead, trying to focus on the files Nigel gave me a week ago. I sit out in front of the palace soaking up the morning sun as I flip through them.
I’ve never been more unsure of myself than I am now. A year ago, I knew exactly who I was and what I stood for. The king was the enemy. He was evil and he wreaked death and destruction.
Now I’m married to that very man, and he’s no longer so easily compartmentalized. The Resistance, whom I’d sided with for so long, is now the one perpetuating violence when the world’s finally found peace. Right and wrong are lovers; I can’t have one without the other.
I lean back against my chair and try to discern fact from fiction in these reports. I could be sifting through this inside, in the fancy new office I’ve been given, but I haven’t had the luxury of lingering out in the sun for some time, and feeling the warm rays on my skin is better than even the king’s most luxurious rooms.
I glance up from the report when I hear the distant sound of a car coming up the drive.
I squint my eyes. Not one car. A battalion of them. And not just cars. Armored vehicles.
I stand, dropping the file on the stone bench beside me.
I hear a familiar whine; my mind sharpens at the sound. That ransacked warehouse, those missing weapons. I’m now facing them down.
The whine turns into a hiss as a rocket arcs across the sky from the bed of one of the cars. It’s headed straight for the palace.
So today’s the day I die.
Chapter 28
The King
My men get the call while I’m setting up provincial governments in South America. I see their fingers go to their earpieces one moment, and in the next, they’re surrounding me.
“Your Majesty,” one says, “we need to get you out of the palace. Now.”
“What’s going on?”
The explosion knocks me over the desk, the sound a roar in my ears. The walls shake as dust and plaster rain down on me.
Someone bombed my palace. Someone bombed my palace. Anger and incredulity war for dominance.
“Security breach! Front gate!” a guard yells, and then my soldiers are pulling me to my feet and dragging me out of the room.
The front gate? Serenity’s out there. A bolt of panic flares through my veins.
I yank the hands off of me. “I’m not leaving without the queen.” I need to see her now.
“Our men are already on it.”
I hesitate, forcing my guards to drag me out of my room and propel me towards the map room, where escape waits.
Oh God, what if something already happened to her?
Serenity
The missile slams into the west wing of the palace, and the building erupts in a plume of fire and stone. I barely have time to cover my face before the wave of heat slams into me.
After all their years of planning, the Resistance is finally making their big move, and now I’m on the wrong side of the fight.
Go figure.
“Your Majesty!” The guards who’ve shadowed me all morning now sprint towards me as I rise to my feet.
When they reach me, I don’t think. I grab the gun from one of the guard’s holsters.
For a split second he looks at me like I’ve betrayed them. No, I have something much stupider in mind. “We need to cut them off.”
The words are barely out of my mouth when one of my guards lays a hand on my shoulder. “We need to get you out of here. Now.”
Perhaps if I’d grown up in a world without violence, I would’ve readily agreed to this. Instead I duck under the guard’s arms and begin running for the front gate. I pump my arms; I can hear the king’s men behind me.
I fall to one knee and line up the gun’s sights, and then I fire, aiming at the leading car’s front window.
A miss.
I correct my aim and try again.
Another miss.
I can see the line of vehicles a little better. Someone’s reloading the rocket launcher in the bed of that truck. I bite my lip and pull the trigger. I miss my target—I am too far away for much accuracy—but my bullet punctures the driver’s side window.
That’s all it takes for the car to swerve, sending some of the men in the back over the tailgate.