My legs shook as I walked.
Darren might have given up on himself, but I hadn’t.
21
The final day before the execution came and went. Priscilla was crowned Queen of Jerar. All of the great rulers of the Western Realm—King Horrace, King Joren, and Emperor Liang—as well as their guards, were present and watched the ceremony with discerning eyes.
For my part, I did my best not to scream.
Duke Cassius tried to approach me after the ceremony, but he stopped after he read the expression on my face. I was tired of scheming rulers and pacts made behind closed doors. Pythus was not my friend. What had our alliance even bought? Certainly not peace, and I wasn’t going to offer him Jerar.
Priscilla was the right choice for the throne. I could see it as she went around the room. Darren and I had trained our entire lives for war, but the raven-haired beauty? Her father had prepared her to serve alongside a prince. She was calculating and shrewd, but she also knew the court like the back of her hand.
The queen couldn’t save the boy I loved, but she would find a way to appease the Caltothians after we were gone. The declaration that Jerar was cutting down its infantry, and that the study of magic would no longer be restricted to the best, was met with apprehension, but also respect. Priscilla, with the help of Marius, her chief advisor, renounced the individual factions and the Candidacy. Magic was now opened up to the study of all pursuits.
War would no longer be the focus of Jerar.
I hadn’t expected Priscilla to embrace my idea, but perhaps she had been listening after all.
Jerar would be a new land, one that I would never get to know.
Did you ever imagine that despicable girl from the Academy would become a respectable queen? That the boy you loved would bring a country to its knees? That you and your friends would commit treason against the Crown?
I hadn’t. If I’d known…
I found myself at the dungeon doors for the second time that day.
Darren looked up at me as I approached, but he didn’t push me away.
To him, this was our last night, and I had failed.
I wanted to tell him I hadn’t. That I wouldn’t. That Ian had hidden weapons, and all of our plans were set for the morning. That we knew the guards’ positions and we were going to succeed.
But there were guards listening, and for the first time, Darren wasn’t looking away.
He took my hand as I sat down next to him in the corner of his cell.
For awhile, I just listened to the steady beat of his heart. It was so loud. Or maybe it was my own. I couldn’t tell.
“Darren—”
“Please…” His fingers tightened against my own. “No… words.”
He had already accepted his fate.
Minutes slipped past and the shadows pressed in. Those minutes turned into hours and the sun was pushing past stars. I watched it all from the corner of our cell.
My hand never left his.
I was drifting to sleep, the back of my head against the cold stone wall, when his lips brushed my hair.
Darren must have thought I was dreaming.
“Gods.” Darren’s voice was hoarse. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
No. I jerked out of my trance and snapped awake. “Darren—”
And then there was the creaking of the cell bars as heavy boots approached from the outside.
Darren’s eyes were locked on me as the guard slipped a key inside his manacles’ lock.
“I love you,” he whispered.
And then the guards dragged him away.
*
I hadn’t seen the gallows until that morning. Somehow, in all of our plans for the week, I had avoided stepping foot outside of the keep. Perhaps it had been a conscious decision.
Standing here now, taking it all in, I could see why I’d been unable to make the approach.
The sky was too lovely for such a terrible day. Spring air—a mixture of pollen and pine—wafted across the field as a crowd gathered fifty yards from the fortress’s entrance, lured in by the promise of blood and a looming gallows just beyond.
There were so many faces. Young and old, highborn and lowborn, all gathered around the square. The queen’s court dressed in an array of colors, vibrant gold, and their finest Borean silks, instead of the mourning black.
A king was to die today, and I was faced with a rainbow instead.
People were shouting, mouths open and wide, but all I could hear was my pulse. I pushed through the crowd, my eyes taking in every inch of my surroundings. It killed me to be so far away from the front, but a strict sense of control kept me back. Every rebel guard was watching the grounds.
I couldn’t afford any more risks.
My back was hunched, and I wore a tattered gray cloak. The guards had been given orders to look for a girl dressed like a soldier. No one looked twice at a pock-marked woman with a cane and a limp.
Itchy red hives covered my arms and face. I’d had a hearty serving of mutton just before my approach. It was the first time I’d been grateful for a childhood reaction to sheep.