Queen of Ruin (Grace and Fury)

by Tracy Banghart

  He held out a hand. After a brief pause, Nomi shook it, biting back a gasp as his large warm palm enveloped hers. His grip was strong, stronger than she’d expected for a man recovering from a murder attempt.

  Then Malachi turned to Serina and shook her hand as well.

  “I’ll write it all down,” Nomi said suddenly, with the sense that somehow this would make it more official. That the words, written by own her hand, might quiet her unquiet fears of betrayal.

  “There’s paper and ink in the Commander’s room,” Val offered, the first thing he’d said since they’d entered the infirmary. Nomi had forgotten him almost entirely, in fact. She glanced his way, surprised he hadn’t inserted himself into the negotiations.

  Serina said, “We’ll get the paper, and Nomi will write down our agreement. Then it will be up to the women of Mount Ruin to decide.”

  “What do you mean?” Malachi asked, his brows drawing together. “I thought we had just decided.”

  Serina lifted her chin. “I am not Commander Ricci. I will not force these women to fight. This isn’t just about your future, Your Eminence. It’s about theirs too. I’ll put it to them, and they’ll vote.”

  Malachi’s jaw clenched. “Fine.”

  It wasn’t as if he could argue. Here, Serina held the power. It was afterward, if they won, that Nomi worried about.

  Serina squeezed Nomi’s shoulder again. “I’ll get some food for you too.”

  With a last thoughtful look at Nomi, Serina turned and headed for the bright rectangle of light at the other end of the room. Val followed.

  Nomi sat down beside Malachi and leaned against the wall. Not too close. Her mind still whirled. Would it happen? If the women of Mount Ruin took the palazzo, took back Malachi’s throne, would he really change the laws? What would it be like for women to have the freedom to learn to read, to choose their own employment, their own husbands? To choose their own futures?

  And Renzo… with this plan, they were counting on him hiding, keeping himself safe, for as long as it took the ship to come and for them to attack the palazzo. Was that too long?

  It didn’t matter, not really. Even if they knew exactly where Renzo was, how could she and Serina leave now in their little boat, when Malachi had promised the women of Viridia a new world?

  “Damn.” Malachi swore, but with more fatigue than anger. He shifted uncomfortably, disrupting her line of thought.

  “Are you in pain?” she asked.

  “Of course I’m in pain!” he snapped.

  Nomi moved to stand up.

  He put out a hand toward her. “I’m sorry,” he said more calmly. “Don’t go. Please. I am… frustrated by my own weakness.”

  “Your body will heal. Already you’re so much stronger,” she said, her guilt slithering back to choke her.

  “It’s not just my injuries,” he admitted. “I was not prepared for that conversation, for your demands. You have a talent for negotiation.”

  “And my sister for threats,” Nomi returned.

  The corner of Malachi’s lip quirked. “True. Mount Ruin has changed her.”

  “How could it not?” Nomi thought she heard disapproval in his voice, but she was in awe. Serina had spoken to Malachi as if they were equals. No, as if she held the power. Serina, Nomi’s sweet, submissive sister.

  Nomi had never been more proud.

  For a while, they sat in silence. But it wasn’t long before Nomi’s questions bubbled up.

  “Why did you try to give me my freedom? Back at the ball, I mean.” She didn’t know what to think of Malachi. One moment he was volatile, just as Asa had described him. And other times, he seemed thoughtful, considerate even. She couldn’t puzzle him out, and that made her nervous. For this plan to work, he had to be deserving of her trust. And she just wasn’t sure if he was. In truth, he was probably wondering the same about her. She’d already betrayed him once.

  He stared down at his hands, still as marble in his lap. Through the ripped sleeve of his shirt, she could see the ridge of stitches along his forearm. “The more time we spent together, the more it pained me, thinking of how I chose you without warning, without your knowledge or consent. It became untenable, knowing you hadn’t prepared for the life of a Grace. That I was forcing you.”

  “So why did you choose me? Was it a mistake? You meant to choose Serina?” She’d always wondered. He’d seemed so unhappy with Nomi at first.

  When he didn’t answer, she added, “Back in the palazzo, you said I was defiant and different from the others. But you never said why that appealed to you.”

  She glanced at him. To her surprise, his cheeks had reddened. He focused all his attention on the cracked marble floor between them, picking at it with a finger.

  He cleared his throat. “Well. The truth is, it didn’t appeal at first. But you, um, served a purpose.”

  “A purpose?” What a callous way to regard a human life.

  “When I met you the first time in the hallway, do you remember?” When she nodded, he continued. “I was angry. I’d just left a meeting with my father and his magistrates. I’d assumed I was the one to pick my Graces, and I was prepared to do my duty. But I’d been informed in that meeting that the magistrates choose. Well, they lobby. It’s an honor for them, a way to curry favor. If their girls are chosen, it often means increased access to the Superior. It can be very good for a province. That night, Father decreed I would select the prospects from Lanos, Golden Isle, and Sola.”

  “Serina, Maris, and Cassia,” Nomi said softly. She’d had no idea the magistrates had so much power. That Signor Pietro, Lanos’s representative, could prevail upon the Superior to choose her sister.

  Malachi nodded. “I was furious. I thought it was this sacred duty or something… at the least I thought it was my life. I hated being told what to do.”

  Nomi rolled her eyes at the irony, but he was staring at the floor and didn’t see.

  “When I met you, I had this brilliant flash of inspiration.… I thought I could choose you to spite my father. It wouldn’t interfere with the politics of it all—you were still from Lanos—but I’d be my own man, making my own decision. I just, well… I didn’t consider what you’d think.”

  This was the least surprising bit of the entire story. Of course he hadn’t considered what she thought. She was a woman, after all.

  “I wondered why you’d chosen two girls who obviously didn’t want to be there,” Nomi said, thinking of how angry she’d been and how hopeless Maris had seemed. “Asa said it was because you wanted to break us. The Superior said it too. I think… I think he liked the unwilling ones.”

  Malachi skimmed a hand along the row of stitches on his arm. “I thought I was being rebellious. I didn’t want to break you.… I didn’t want anything to do with you, at first. You were only there to annoy my father. But then your sister was accused of reading and I was intrigued. I wanted to know if you could read too. I wanted to know all about you. You didn’t simper like Cassia or brood like Maris. And you were, well, you were mine. The only girl I actually chose. And while I did it for the wrong reasons, I found myself glad. I started feeling, caring—”

  “But you told me that I could go,” Nomi broke in, an unexpected restlessness filling her. “You released me from my position as your Grace.”

  Nomi didn’t know what to think. She’d come to suspect he cared for her, but to have it laid out like that, and to know he’d been rebellious in his own way…

  If I’d trusted him, if I’d let myself care for him, would he have found a way to help Serina? She thought back to all their interactions and how much of those were influenced by what Asa had told her about him.

  Malachi looked up at last, his mouth quirking sadly. “I told you you could go. But if you’ll recall, I also asked you to stay. I wanted you, Nomi. I was hoping you might want me back.”

  For a moment, she was caught in his eyes, and he held her captive, just as he had in the hallway that first night. Except this time, ang
er and fear weren’t the emotions that drew color to her cheeks.

  Malachi turned his attention back to the marble. “But you wanted my brother.”

  It was on the tip of Nomi’s tongue to say I don’t anymore, but she couldn’t. She didn’t know if Malachi still cared for her after everything she’d done, but she couldn’t risk her own heart. It was still broken.

  She was still broken.

  SEVEN

  SERINA

  SERINA SAT WITH her back against the bars of an empty cell, legs stretched out in front of her, and ignored Diego’s vitriol.

  “You’re going to die here, just like all the rest,” he said, spitting the words. A vein pulsed along the side of his bald head.

  “I am going to slit you open.” Carlo stuck his narrow, pimpled face through the bars and leered.

  “I’m going to bury you,” Hector growled. He was the largest of the guards, as big as Commander Ricci, with close-set eyes and rotting, broken teeth.

  Serina knew the names of five of the seven guards now, from them egging each other on. One, down at the end, kept his mouth shut. But he watched her and the other girls, his eyes gleaming, and she knew he was no less a threat.

  Not a single guard begged for his life or tried to weasel his way into their good opinion. They didn’t pretend to feel as Val did, or admit to a single regret. They didn’t care one bit that they’d been responsible for hundreds of women dying. They reveled in it.

  Beside her, Mirror crossed her arms over her chest. “I wish they’d be quiet,” she murmured.

  “That’s why they do it,” Serina replied.

  Every shift watching the prisoners was more draining than the last. But it seemed more dangerous to leave them unsupervised. Val had been taking more than his fair share, just to give the women a break, but Anika always insisted on standing watch with him. She didn’t trust that he wouldn’t betray them.

  It had been four days since Nomi had arrived. Serina had given the women time to heal, and Malachi time as well. She’d made sure every woman knew the options—escape to Azura or stage a coup—and what each would mean. Malachi had broken down for all of them how they could take the palazzo—the hidden passages they would use to breach the canal so they could attack without warning, the number of guards and soldiers they would have to face. He made the gambit sound reasonable.

  Val had started training the women how to shoot the guards’ firearms. He’d also answered what questions he could about Azura.

  Nomi had explained the concessions Malachi had made, what he’d promised to change if they were successful and he became Superior. She’d shown them the pages where she’d written the terms and where he’d signed it. One of the girls had asked Nomi to write out a promise that they would not be persecuted if they returned to Viridia, and Malachi had signed that as well.

  It was all the women spoke of, whether to flee to Azura or return to Bellaqua and fight.

  The vote was today.

  The prison ship would be here in a week, maybe even less. It was time to commit to a plan. The more Serina thought about it, the harder her heart pounded. This was the best chance to protect Renzo. And she wanted to fight. She’d promised herself she would try to change Viridia. This was her chance.

  She just hoped the others felt the same way.

  Serina tapped on Mirror’s arm. “Let’s go. We need to be in the amphitheater soon.”

  “Going back to your baser natures, are you?” Hector said, with a grotesque, gap-toothed grin. “Can’t live without the fights. Without the blood.”

  The other guards cackled.

  “I could live without you just fine,” Serina muttered.

  No women arrived to relieve them—the guards would have to insult each other for a while. Everyone deserved a vote.

  “I’ve never voted for anything in my life,” Mirror said as if she were reading Serina’s mind, as they hiked down the path.

  “Me neither,” Serina said. The only votes anyone cast in Viridia were in province-wide elections of minor government administrators, and only the men did that. Every other position, like the magistrates—and the Graces—the Superior decided.

  “I wish I could go back to Viridia, to be with my sister,” Mirror said. She’d told Serina once her sister was her mirror image, down to her many freckles. It was how she’d earned her name. “But that’s what got me put here to begin with. I ran away to be with her and her new husband, thought I could be her maid or something, but he turned me in because my father had not given me leave to go. The authorities didn’t even bother sending me home. They just sent me here. If I go back now, he’ll just do it again.”

  “No, he won’t,” Serina replied. “The Heir will put an end to all of that. You’ll be able to choose where you want to go, what you want to do.”

  “I’m voting to go to Azura,” Mirror said, her voice hardening. “Why would the Heir actually change the laws? Once he has what he wants, his promises are worth nothing.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Serina said firmly. But deep in her heart, she had her own doubts. Still, she trusted Nomi. And she would never choose to leave her family behind.

  By the time they reached the amphitheater, most of the women had already gathered. Val waited on the dais with Malachi and Nomi.

  Serina studied the crowd as she headed down to meet them. The women weren’t divided by crew anymore. Cliff and Ember sat together where Serina and the other Cave freshies had, but a couple of girls from the Beach sat next to them. Maris and Helena sat with them too. Helena was from Jungle Camp. Everyone called her Serpent; even Serina had heard the story of how she’d caught and cooked a large snake when Jungle Camp had gone weeks without rations.

  Val said both Maris and Helena were doing well with firearms training. Serina wondered if they imagined their targets as the men who’d forced them apart.

  When Serina reached the dais and turned to face her audience, her pulse leapt. She hadn’t been to the amphitheater since the morning after the uprising.

  Everything suddenly felt too familiar, and the memories, the horrors, rose to choke her.

  She wiped her sweaty hands on her pants. Fought with every breath not to look behind her at the guard’s booth. There were no men training firearms at her back. The Commander wasn’t standing on the edge of the balcony, preparing to throw a box of spiders or bricks to the ground. This was a safe place now.

  This is our place.

  And Nomi was standing with her. Nomi, and Val, and Malachi. They stood together. Serina held up her hands. “Quiet, please,” she said. Voices faded to silence. Everyone turned to her.

  Val sidled a little closer and Serina channeled his support as she addressed the crowd of nearly a hundred fifty women.

  “I know we’re all still adjusting to our new reality,” she began. “This place is ours for the first time. But soon the next prison boat will come and with it, more guards and men who wish to harm us. We will take that boat. We will defend our freedom.” She glanced at Malachi. Even in his hand-me-down guard uniform, he held his head high. He still looked like the Heir. “Tonight we decide what we’ll do afterward. Seek asylum in Azura, or go back to Bellaqua and fight.”

  She nodded to Val, who repeated all he knew about Azura. “I believe we will be safe there,” he concluded. “But it will mean leaving friends and family in Viridia behind.”

  “Or we fight back,” Serina said, taking a step closer to the edge of the stage. She gestured to Malachi. “We have the true Superior here on this island. As you all know, he has agreed that if we help him attack the palazzo, he will enact change in Viridia. He will give women more rights. He will help us reunite with our families. If we help him take back Viridia, we can change it forever.” As she spoke, Serina saw the battle unfold in her mind… female warriors swarming the golden beaches of the Superior’s palazzo, the roar of gunfire echoing down its delicate halls.

  Asa would fall, and the women of Viridia would rise.

  “Asa canno
t be allowed to rule,” Nomi added, her voice shaking. “He is even worse than his father, even more capricious. He has no qualms about destroying all those in his way. He killed his own father, tried to kill his brother… but his real danger is in his smile. He will convince the magistrates, his generals, and courtiers that he is kind and thoughtful, that he has the country’s best interests at heart.” Her voice hardened. “But he only cares for himself. He is a danger to everyone.”

  “But how can we trust him?” Fox shouted, pointing to Malachi. “What stops him from using us to get what he wants and then running this country just like his father did?”

  Malachi cleared his throat. “You have my word, here and in writing. I know this may be difficult to believe, but I also want change for Viridia. I’ve come to see how cruel it is to deny women—you—the right to choose your own path.” He cut a glance to Nomi.

  Serina tried to read the emotion that flitted across his face.

  “So fight or run. Those are the only options we’ve been talking about,” Blaze said from a spot near the stage. “But what about staying here? To some of us, this island is home.”

  “We could try,” Serina said. She’d heard similar rumblings over the past couple of days. “But we have limited resources and only one guard to preserve the illusion of the island running as usual. The prison boats will come, and it will be increasingly difficult not to arouse suspicion. Still, it is an option. We’ll add it to the vote.”

  “What if we just want to return to our families? Without fighting?” someone yelled.

  “What if our families are the ones who turned us in?” someone else countered.

  The rumble of voices built as the women discussed among themselves.

  Serina held up her hands, but before she could say anything, Anika’s voice rang out. “No solution is perfect. Some of us have family we are desperate to return to. Some of us want to take down the men who put us here. Some of us want to run. But we can’t do it all. We can’t split our focus. No matter what we do, we’ll have to deal with the prison boat. We’ll have to survive here until it comes. If we don’t find common ground, if we don’t work toward a unified goal, none of us will make it.”