"They don't know war," Bayard said with a sigh. "They know nothing of daily bombings and the struggles of this nation."
I could've argued that many of the people in Veres were the same, but that wouldn't have gone over very well. "But they've been enlightened to Mael. They're closing it. The whole country is in an uproar."
"Not as much as you'd think."
"But enough that maybe we could start treaty negotiations," I replied. "I'd love to be involved—"
"I'm sure you would," Bayard said, reaching into his desk and pulling out a chocolate. I now assumed this was a sign for me to shut up and agree with him. "And I love this new Theo I'm seeing. Unfortunately, I don't think we could use you to help relations with Kylae. You did escape their prison, even if it is now closed, and I'd hate to send you back there just to find yourself in danger."
I chewed on the chocolate instead of arguing with him. I might not be able to do much in Kylae by myself, but with Galian, we might be able to change some minds. But now probably wasn't the best time to inform Bayard of my relationship with him.
"Instead, I'd like you to return to your appearances. You did so well boosting morale at the bases, and I'd like to see us capitalize on that." I didn't bother to hide my distaste at that idea, and Bayard chuckled. "We need a new story for you, though. One that will sell as well as Mael did. Have you given any thought to marriage?"
I blinked at him. "Excuse me?"
"You're twenty, in the prime of your life. What better way to show your Raven pride by taking a husband and having more Raven citizens?"
I barked a laugh. "I...don't think that's how I want to be marketed."
"Cannon might make a suitable match," Bayard said. "Both of you are becoming stale. A wedding might be just the thing to reinvigorate your brand. Then, of course, you can continue—"
"With all due respect, sir, I'm not going to get married just so I can be a media spectacle," I replied harshly. "I am a major in the Raven air forces. I've survived seven years in the front lines and two months...in Mael. I'm not here to chase down the 'next big thing' for my brand. If I'm going to be used, I want to be used to help people—and not to give them something to gossip about."
Almost immediately, I regretted my outburst. But to my surprise, Bayard's smile hadn't faded a bit; in fact, it grew.
"I do love this new, passionate Theo. Tell you what, how about we make a deal, hm? If you'll do me the honor of attending a few more ceremonies and helping bolster our Raven morale, Emilie and I will knock our heads together and see where we can stick you that would make the most sense."
Having to go back to ceremonies was disconcerting, but I nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Buck up, Theo. I have a feeling we're not quite finished with you yet."
Galian
"I think you'll be fine after a few days, but please lay off the hot peppers," I said to the young man who'd come in complaining of stomach pains. He nodded to me and groaned as I wrote him a prescription for some heavy-duty antacids.
It was my first day back at the hospital since leaving to close down the prison, and it had taken me a few hours to get into the swing of things. After tending to prisoners who could barely stand on their feet, wealthy Kylaens who complained of small ailments and self-inflicted wounds were a bit hard to stomach. I was also a bit moody; I couldn't keep the smell of barethium out of my nose, no matter how many showers I took.
But it was hard to be too upset. Rhys had kept his word, and most of the prisoners were in the process of being released. I'd witnessed more than my fair share of tearful reunions as parents were reunited with their kids, most of which my father had kept out of the press. The sooner the story died, Rhys had said, the sooner he could reclaim his popularity in the polls. From what I saw on the news and what I heard at the hospital, not many people believed that he'd been completely unaware of conditions there.
I left the patient room with Mr. I-ate-too-many-hot-peppers-on-a-dare and padded over to the nurses' station. "I'm discharging room twenty. Can you take care of him for me?"
The nurse snorted and took the folder from me.
"What's wrong?" I asked. It wasn't that I expected everyone to be nice to me, but I didn't think I'd done something to offend this particular nurse before.
"Did you really think it was a good idea to release hundreds of prisoners into the streets?" she asked.
"Because all those poor kids are such a danger to society," I replied lazily. I suppose I should've expected this, but the sentiment took me by surprise.
"They were in jail in the first place. Obviously they belonged there."
"Do you honestly believe that?"
"If they followed the law, they wouldn't have been in jail."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "That's not..."
"Excuse me, Doctor." She stood and left, with a disgusted look on her face.
"Thanks...for nothing," I said.
"Dr. Helmuth, are you annoying my nurses?" Hebendon asked, appearing behind me.
I swallowed a comment about how they weren't exactly his nurses, they were Maitland's, but I didn't think that would help my case.
"Just asking her to help me discharge a patient," I said, not wanting to have a long, drawn-out conversation with him. He might schedule me for another night shift, and I was so happy to be working a day shift for once.
"I just wanted to let you know that I appreciated what you did last week," Hebendon said. "I thought it took a lot of courage."
That surprised me. I thought Hebendon worked for my father. "Are you serious?"
His face darkened. "Of course I'm serious. I'm a doctor, and that place...the human toll is not worth it, whatever your leadership—excuse me, your father, might say." His sallow skin grew redder. "I do hope that won't get back to him."
"You tell me. You're the one working for him."
It was his turn to look surprised. "W-work for him? The endowment comes from the royal treasury, but the hospital is run by the board of directors."
"You know what I mean," I replied. "When Maitland left—"
"Dr. Maitland and I go back forty years, to when we were in medical school together," Hebendon said. "He wanted a break from Norose and offered to let me bolster my resume as the temporary Chief of Medicine here."
I glanced around for anyone who might be listening. "And my father hasn't been telling you to give me all the shitty shifts?"
"Dr. Helmuth, you're a resident. It's the nature of the beast that you receive the worst shifts." He patted me on the shoulder. "Rite of passage."
"Huh," I said, rocking back on my heels.
"But perhaps I gave you a nicer schedule this week after all of your work last week," Hebendon said with a sparkle in his eye. "Speaking of which, I'd like to do a quick examination and make sure there's no adverse effects from all the barethium you inhaled."
"I'm sure I'm fine," I said, waving him off. "The smoke stacks weren't on."
"Yes, but I've got a direct request from Dr. Maitland to make sure I at least do a chest x-ray on you," Hebendon said.
I found myself smiling. "Maitland asked you to? What else did he say? And what was Maitland like in medical school?"
"Let's have that x-ray and we'll talk all about it."
Now that I didn't think Hebendon was a dirty spy for my father, I accepted that he was a fairly decent physician, and an excellent teacher. He talked me through his review of my x-ray, which had come back clear, and quizzed me on whether I thought I should be prescribed medicine for the wheezing in my chest (he and I both agreed we'd monitor it).
When we'd finished, it was about time for my shift to be over, and since I didn't have any patients, Hebendon and I went to the cafeteria and swapped stories about our own medical school training. I think he was surprised to hear how dedicated I was, and that most of the stories he'd heard about me and partying had been false.
"I confess, I thought perhaps it was your time on the island that changed you," he said. "The nurses said y
ou came back different."
"I was different," I said, looking at the dregs at the bottom of my paper cup. "Wish I'd gone to Mael sooner, though. How many more lives could I have saved?"
"But I thought you were inspired by that Raven girl's speech?"
I smiled. "I was. But it shouldn't have taken her speech to get me to do something." I glanced at the clock on the wall. "Oh shit, I have to get going. My ride's here. Thanks for the coffee."
"I'm just sorry it took us this long to have it," he said. "But don't get any ideas. Next week, it's back to impactions and night shifts."
I laughed, and although I knew he was dead serious thanks to all the crap he'd been put through as a resident, I didn't mind the torture anymore. Hebendon was in my corner, and I could handle whatever shitty cases he threw my way. Pun intended.
I left him in the cafeteria and strolled around to the back parking lot of the hospital. There, at least, I could stand outside without the threat of having my picture taken. I inhaled the moist, cool air that seemed, if possible, a little warmer than usual. Perhaps spring wasn't too far off.
I heard my car before I saw it, turning the corner around the back and parking right in front of me. Martin rolled down the window, flashing a smile at me. "Are we headed back to Mael today?"
I glanced at the sky and shook my head. "Let's take a night off."
"Good, because that place depresses me. Why don't we get shitfaced tonight?"
I reached for the car door, but a knock behind me drew my attention. A red-haired nurse popped her head out. "Dr. Helmuth, room twenty has a question for you before you go."
I groaned and closed the door, turning to the nurse to answer her. But the blow from the explosion behind me was the last thing I heard before everything went black.
FIFTEEN
Theo
"...Prince Galian assassination...car bomb..."
The pen dropped from my hand. I couldn't even remember what I'd been reading. I flew out of my dining room into the living room and grasped my radio, turning it up in horrified panic.
He couldn't be.
I must've misheard.
There was no way my amichai was...
"...Yesterday morning, a car bomb was detonated in downtown Kylae near the Royal Kylaen Hospital. The intended target was Prince Galian, although he was not in the car at the time—"
"Fuck," I cried, sinking to my knees.
I lay on the floor of my apartment, breathing in the scent of the carpet and breathing out the heart attack I'd nearly had. I wasn't sure how long I stayed prostrate against the ground, calming myself down, but when my heartbeat had almost returned to normal, I lifted my head.
Someone had tried to assassinate Galian.
I flipped onto my back and finally began to listen to the white noise of the radio. The Raven news had moved onto something else, but they would circle back around. In the space between listening to Bayard's appearances to a story about a squadron on the southern coast of the country, I began to speculate the details of an attack until I was beside myself with worry.
"In case you missed it, breaking news out of Norose. Yesterday afternoon, a car bomb intended for Prince Galian detonated near the Royal Kylaen Hospital. The royal family is not releasing details, citing a need to conduct a full investigation. While the prince suffered minor injuries, one of his guards, David Martin, perished in the blast."
Martin, he was the young man I'd seen with Galian in Jervan. The one who'd been flirting with the girls around the pool. Galian had moved in with him, and said that they'd become close friends. He was young too, around my age.
I closed my eyes and said a small prayer for him, and another for Galian, that he might find some peace amongst all this tragedy.
Galian
Martin was dead and it was my fault.
If only I'd listened to Rhys and my mother. They'd been warning me that testing my father was a bad idea, but stupidly I'd thought he'd only go after me. Never in my wildest dreams did I think he'd kill Martin.
I vaguely remembered my mother coming to visit me in the hospital, where Hebendon was treating me for a mild concussion and shock. She'd said it wasn't safe in my apartment anymore, and that I needed to come home where she could better protect me. I almost told her she had nothing to fear from me anymore, that my days of risking lives that weren't my own were over. Instead, I told her I would return to the castle, but on my own terms and in my own time. I needed time to grieve in private, and the only place I wanted to do that was Rosie's couch.
I lay there for two days, staring at the ceiling fan and wondering if I'd ever have the guts to cross the hall into our old apartment. I found myself recalling every single moment of my short time with Martin, wondering if I'd been kind enough to him, if I'd been a good friend. If I'd known that his time was limited to twenty years, I might've spent less time moping over Theo and more having beers with him.
One morning, I overheard Kader telling Rosie that Martin's family was having a private funeral, and that woke me from my stupor. Martin had been dishonorably discharged after I'd helped Theo escape, and was therefore not allowed the full rights of a military funeral. But since he'd died in the line of duty, protecting me, I thought he deserved better.
So I peeled myself off the couch and went to see my brother at the castle. He hadn't been surprised to see me, but he had agreed to pull some strings to give Martin the honor he deserved.
The day of the funeral was so cold and bitter. Kader, Rosie, and I drove to the military cemetery where the most esteemed Kylaen military heroes had been buried—including my ancestors and my brother, Digory. I felt a bit guilty that I hadn't come to see Dig since his funeral. He'd been an asshole, but he was still my brother. I promised myself that I'd start regular visits to him and Martin...
Martin.
Martin was dead, and it was my fault.
"You all right back there, son?" Kader asked.
"Yeah," I said hoarsely.
Rosie turned around to look at me, but I couldn't meet her gaze. I didn't want to start blubbering in front of Kader.
When we arrived at the gravesite, a crowd was already assembled around the coffin. Thankfully, there were no tabloid photographers around. I didn't want Martin's funeral to turn into another propaganda event for my father.
Kader and Rosie made their way to two empty seats, but I stayed apart from the rest of the crowd and stared at the photo of Martin next to the dark wooden casket. A few flurries had begun to fall, which seemed fitting.
I'd never met Martin's parents, but they were easy to spot, as was his younger sister. She looked just like him, with dark black hair that disappeared onto the black coat she wore. But the most telling were the distraught looks on their pale faces. They'd expected their nineteen-year-old son to outlive them. Yet now they were burying him. Because of a decision that I'd made.
I heard footsteps approaching. Kader had left Rosie's side to stand next to me, his hands behind his back at attention.
"You should say something to them," he said softly. "They want to meet you."
"I don't know if I should," I replied, wishing I sounded a little less emotional.
"Steady, son," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I thought he was offering support, until I heard the excited whispers from the funeral attendees.
A cadre of ten cars had pulled up in the center of the road, and my father and brother had stepped out of one of them. They'd brought their top generals, a few ministers, and, of course, photographers and reporters to capture every scene.
My somber mood turned furious in an instant. "What is he—"
"Steady, Galian," Kader said, his hand tightening on my shoulder. "Just get through this. It will be over soon."
I couldn't believe my eyes as my father, the man who'd ordered Martin's death, strolled up to Martin's father and shook his hand then grasped his mother's in solidarity. Rhys caught my eye and gave me a small shake of his head as he followed behind my father to offer his c
ondolences.
"You would do better to honor Martin's memory by not defiling his funeral with a temper tantrum," Kader whispered, his hand still on my shoulder. "There are other ways to achieve your goals. Keep that in mind."
"This isn't about goals," I said, wrenching my eyes away from the scene. "He shouldn't be here. He has no right—"
"Martin was killed while protecting his son. It would look stranger if he weren't here."
My father remained next to Martin's mother, holding her hand and looking for all the world like a man in mourning. My brother broke away from the group, joining me and Martin.
"When I asked for your help, this is not what I expected," I said through clenched teeth.
"Galian, you know as well as I do that I couldn't have stopped him if I'd wanted to," Rhys replied, standing at military attention beside me.
"Could you have stopped the assassination attempt?" I asked. "Because we all know who gave the order."
Rhys and Kader were silent for a moment. Then Rhys spoke, "I don't know who gave the order. But it wasn't him."
"As if he'd tell you."
"He wouldn't, but I have my sources," Rhys replied. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him lean behind me to look at Kader. "Anything on your end?"
"So far, nothing," Kader replied, not breaking eye contact with the funeral, which had begun. "But what I'm hearing is that Rave—"
"Do you really expect me to believe the Ravens did this?" I said, feeling the warning glare from Kader on the other side of me. "I go to Mael, and suddenly there's an assassination attempt. Pardon me if I'm skeptical. Especially considering His Highness' track record."
Silence descended between the three of us and we watched the funeral. The priest stepped aside and my father took the podium. I was too far away to hear his words (a good thing), but I caught wisps of talk about Kylaen pride and service to country. It sounded the same as the speech he'd given at Dig's funeral, and probably had been repeated at countless others'.
The Complete Madion War Trilogy Page 36