by Nina Walker
“Just tell me.”
“It’s selfish,” he muttered.
“I don’t care.” And I didn’t. I would do anything for Tristan.
“Can I ask you to do something for me?” He stepped back, only slightly, so we were inches apart. My gaze flicked to his lips and then back to his eyes. They were dark pools. Unreadable. Dangerous.
“You can ask me to do anything and I’ll do it.”
He cleared his throat, like he was afraid to ask. And that was weird because Tristan wasn’t afraid of anything. “Don’t date Mastin,” he said. “I know there’s something between you, but I also know there’s something between us.”
I stilled, my chest icy hot.
His thumb trailed up the side of my arm until his palm cradled my face. “I want my chance. I know it’s not the right time, and I might not get to see you for a while. It’s not your fault that you’re spending every day with him.” He had started to ramble and a smile tugged at my lips. He let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t want to lose you, Frankie. Please, wait for me.”
I blinked rapidly, trying to process everything. Was Tristan confessing feelings for me? For years, I’d dreamed of this moment, fantasized about it, wanting nothing more than to hear those words come from that perfect mouth, directed at me. And now it was here—I didn’t know what to do or say.
And I hated it. I hated that my heart was unsettled. But I couldn’t turn him down. I just couldn’t, because I did love Tristan. And I wanted him, too. I just wasn’t one hundred percent sure in what way. To lose our friendship would destroy me.
When I looked him in the eye and nodded, he smiled. Then he tugged my hand into his. We wrapped our fingers together and everything felt good again.
11
Lucas
A crashing thud slammed through my sleep, followed by a sickening roar. The very foundation of the palace rattled, shaking my bed and waking me with a start. I ran to my window, threw open the curtains, and peered out into the inky darkness. A billowing cloud of fire raged just off the horizon, glowing so wildly it was almost mesmerizing.
Two guards rushed in, shouting orders. They pulled me from the window and ushered me to the entrance to our family’s safe room. It was hidden behind a nondescript paneled door off our main living area. I stumbled into the tight space, my shoulders brushing either side. It had been years since I’d been down here, and then, only for drills.
“Lock it from the inside,” one of the guards said, throwing the door shut in my face.
Hands shaking, I gripped the metal bar that clicked into place, securing me inside. A few steps and I began to descend the narrow, winding staircase. With each step, the adrenaline only rose in me.
Below, I heard Richard muttering to someone. They were already heading down the stairs that led into the underground bunker. I hurried to follow close behind, trying to ignore the cold air. At the bottom was a concrete room, no more than fifteen feet by fifteen feet, fortified with food cans, water jugs, and three sets of bunk beds. Along one of the walls gleamed black guns, rested on several racks. The sight was unsettling and reassuring at the same time. I knew how to use one if it came down to it, but I’d rather not. At the far end of the crammed space was another door. It was solid metal, the huge lever locked in place. Behind it was an underground tunnel. It led out of the palace to a secret exit almost a mile away. I’d never used it before. Never had to. War was new for me.
And yet one thing I can count on is everything changes, and this has, too. I’m not safe as long as this war continues.
I shook out the nerves and then sat on one of the bunks. The adrenaline that was coursing through my body threatened to make me sick. I glanced at the only other door down here, knowing it led to a bathroom. Resting my head against my hands, I breathed slowly. Someone sat next to me and I glanced up at my father. I stiffened. Did he think I was weak?
“Where’s Jessa?” I asked. “She should be down here.”
Richard rubbed at his temples, ruffling his messy sleep-rumpled hair. It always caught me off guard to see him out of his normal formal dress, instead donning black silk pajamas. He was clearly out of his element.
“Well?” I prodded.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I am guessing she’s fine. They didn’t make it to the palace.”
I frowned, unsatisfied.
“Look, son,” he continued. “When you’re married, she’ll be with you, so this won’t happen.”
I huffed. He tugged at his hair, trying to straighten it out. It was one more thing changing lately. He’d lost so much color in the last few months. It used to be lightly streaked with gray, but now it was succumbing to the color. The lines that marked his face were carved especially deep in the dim light. When he exhaled, I could feel the exhaustion. But all this was his own doing. He hadn’t protected Mom. He’d started the war. Lied about so many things. No wonder he was exhausted.
“How did they get through our men?” Richard asked, looking up at the three men who’d somehow been prioritized over Jessa because they were with us in this stupid hidey-hole. And where, exactly, was she?
“Only one of their bombers made it past our fighters but we were able to stop him before he made his target,” the man replied, an officer, one of Faulk’s best.
“I’m guessing the palace was his target?” I interjected.
Everyone looked at me, like I’d said something obvious, before continuing on with their conversation. Okay fine, the palace had been their target—it didn’t take a genius to realize that. They wanted to murder me in my sleep. Me, and so many others, so many innocents, would have died with me. Nerves rolled through my body again, uncoiling like a snake.
I locked eyes with one of the other men who’d been granted access down here. Mark, Celia’s father, and the man who I’d suspected was up to something for a while. Clearly, he was working for my father in more than just some kind of agricultural capacity. He was a war advisor, or he wouldn’t be in this room.
The man regarded me as if I were of little consequence, focusing on my father.
“We were coming to wake both of you and move you down here when the plane crashed,” Mark said. My eyes adjusted as I took in the frustrated set of his shoulders and the hard line of his jaw. “But our bomber was able to drop them before they got to the palace,” he continued.
“They got too close,” I huffed, thinking about how large that ball of fire had been, and probably still was.
“We should have been woken at the instant our territory was breached!” Richard yelled, standing up and breaking out of his exhaustion in a moment of fury. The group of men staggered back and cowered, but the challenge in Mark’s eyes stayed put. He wasn’t openly defiant, but it was there, just the same. Was he Resistance? Was it something else? My curious mind buzzed.
“We had it all under control,” Mark said slowly. “Your Royal Highness.” He bowed to Richard. “We didn’t want to wake you with these trivial details.”
“I don’t think a West American bomber crashing into our capitol city qualifies as having it under control,” Richard snapped.
I have to agree with that!
I thought back to what I’d heard and seen, and it clicked. It wasn’t a bomb exploding but a plane being taken down. Which neighborhood had been hit? How many were now dead, injured, or without a home because of this?
“We have patrols on it and Faulk is already on her way,” Mark continued. “They’ll clean up and get a body count within a few hours. The bomber crashed in a field, so we don’t expect the casualty count to be too high. Still, some of the neighboring homes caught fire pretty quickly, unfortunately. We’re waiting to get word about the damage done there.”
“Faulk,” Richard huffed. “She and I are going to have to have a little chat. I have a feeling she’s not going to like it.”
A long pause followed; Richard’s anger settled in. I noticed Mark’s small smile. Was he gunning for Faulk’s job? I wouldn’t be surprised if
he had it by the end of the day.
Dad stood and marched from one side of the bunker to the other.
“All right, we’ll have to use this for our own benefit,” he said, continuing to pace. His eyes filled with his trademark spark of excitement and my heart sank. What was he up to now? “We will let the people know what kind of savages we’re dealing with, targeting innocent homes like that. I’ll make a statement about it to the press first thing in the morning,” Richard said. “Is it safe for us to go upstairs?”
I clenched my hands into fists and fought the urge to roll my eyes at his immediate plan to spin yet another problem toward his own favor. But nobody seemed to notice me, nor care. Did it not matter that the plane had been taken down by us? That they hadn’t been targeting random people but the leaders of this kingdom? Of course it didn’t matter. This was politics.
Mark slid a slatebook from his suit jacket and called one of his men on the outside. After a moment, he nodded the go ahead to leave the bunker.
“And one more thing,” Richard said as we made for the stairs. “We’re not postponing or canceling the exhibition. We’re leaving this afternoon.”
“Wise choice,” Mark replied.
“Wait, what?” I sputtered on the question as I followed the men up the staircase. “Am I going? Is Jessa? Why didn’t anyone tell me about this? It’s today?”
“Always so full of questions, Lucas, but it’s not my fault you missed the meeting on this,” Richard said, not turning back to look at me. “You need to pay attention, and show up. If you had, you’d know we decided to keep this one quiet. We’ll all go, do the alchemy exhibition for a few hand-selected families, and then air the segment after we’ve returned home. It will be a quick trip. Less than twenty-four hours.”
“Why so secretive?”
“I’m not risking any more chances for someone to catch wind of our absence from the palace,” he replied. “The less people who know, the better. The palace is the safest place for us, and being away puts us at risk.”
I wasn’t sure that was true, considering the circumstances, but I bit back the remark. He never listened to me anyway, not when he’d already made up his mind.
“Well then,” I said sarcastically. “Sign me up.”
“Don’t worry, Lucas. I already did.”
The hunting lodge loomed ahead as we shuffled from the cars. Immediately, we were assaulted by freezing wind, the kind that clawed angrily at any exposed skin. I tucked my scarf tighter around my face and neck, wrapped my arm around Jessa, and hurried us toward the building. It was a massive log cabin, with wide gleaming windows and several wraparound porches. I’d been here a number of times; this was one of Dad’s favorite places to schmooze his court. Still, the initial sight always sent a shiver of anticipation up my spine. I loved this place.
Tall pine trees surrounded the lodge on all sides, except for the front where we’d driven in our procession of armored cars. Now the cars were quickly emptied, hordes of wide-eyed alchemists, officers, guards, media crew, and even military men ambling around the drive.
The northern province wasn’t very populated, and besides the lodge and forest, there wasn’t much to see up here. But still, the crew filmed it all because Richard said it was a great opportunity to show off different parts of the kingdom. All of this was meant to build popularity among the people. Popularity was the lifeblood of the royal family, and now, the alchemists needed it as well. I hoped it didn’t backfire but I could easily count a million ways why and how it eventually would—starting with the fact that these alchemists being televised used to have families. What would happen when parents recognized their stolen children from long ago?
I shook my head. Not my problem.
I tugged Jessa in closer as we stumbled into the entrance of the lodge, a tail of security close behind us. The warmth of the space was welcoming, and I relaxed into it. Jessa stepped away, rubbing at her ears and jaw, her cheeks and nose bright red. Her smile faltered when she saw me watching her, but then she wrapped her hand in mine and smiled, dropping a small kiss on my cheek. I ignored the cameras in our faces, documenting the royal love story. I also ignored the cool doubt that was chillier than the air outside.
Seeing the way she fought against me with every passing day was killing me. Betrayal and anger clawed at my confidence like puncturing wounds.
Her hand was icy cold in mine. She peered up at me with a coy smile. “Show me around? You said you know this place pretty well, didn’t you?” Her eyes flicked to the camera as it zoomed in closer.
I froze, anger burning me up. I wanted this to be real.
An overwhelming need overtook me to either warm her small hand against my lips or push it away. Instead, I left it tucked in mine and led her out of the crowded foyer.
I gave her a quick tour, starting with the game room, then on to the various living rooms stacked with comfortable chairs, leather couches, and pillows. We passed the dining area briefly—we’d be eating in there soon enough. We finished in what would be her room for the night. A burly cameraman, who’d kept his equipment trained on us up until this point, stepped back and saluted me.
I smiled conspiratorially as I closed the door.
“I’ll just go out here for a few minutes to give the illusion that we’re as happy as ever and then I’ll get out of your way,” I said. I dropped her hand and pointed to the balcony off the back of the bedroom. Nobody would see me up there since it was at the top of the lodge and tucked back against the tall pines.
“Are you sure?” Jessa asked. “It’s really cold outside and your coat is still downstairs.”
“I’ll be fine. We only have to put on this show at dinner tonight and at the exhibition tomorrow. The rest of your time here is all yours. Don’t worry about me.”
“Okay,” she said softly, her lip pouting. Did she actually have the nerve to be hurt by this?
“You can’t have it both ways,” I snapped, stepping through the balcony door and closing it behind me before she could respond.
She’d made it aggressively clear that she had no interest in forgiving me, let alone actually trying to make our relationship work. And I was done. With the camera following us around, the fact that she was acting had become excruciatingly clear. I had to let her go. It killed me, but it hurt worse to force it with her. My feelings were real, which only made her fake ones stand out in contrast.
I need to get her out of New Colony. That’s what you want for her now, I told myself, forcing myself to believe it.
I breathed in the cold air, no longer affected by it. My body had settled into the bitterness. The pine scent washed over me, giving me a moment of tainted joy. I leaned against the wooden railing. This place only proved to bring back memories of Mom. This was another one of our vacation spots when I was a kid. I always knew I’d have this lodge to visit. It would be mine, too. And someday, I planned to bring my own wife and kids here to enjoy the stillness of the forest.
The way things were going, my future looked a lot like my parents’ past. I closed my eyes and tried to picture it being any other way.
Tired of self-loathing, I pushed off the railing and let myself back through the bedroom door. Jessa startled, sitting on the bed with a slatebook in her lap. I didn’t even look at her. Didn’t say a word. I continued out into the hallway and down two sets of stairs. I found my coat on the rack, and bursting through the main doors, I let myself outside. I didn’t mind the wind smacking my cheeks or the bright sun glaring in my eyes. I just needed to get away. When my bodyguards followed, I turned on them.
“Give me five minutes,” I barked, and they faltered.
I strode into the thick set of trees, my feet carrying me down a hidden path I knew like the lines on my own palm. Dad had always said it was a deer path since it wasn’t made by humans. Instead, it was barely visible to the eye, just a line of dirt to follow between the trees. As a kid I’d spent many summer afternoons walking it until I’d get scared and turn back. Then I�
�d go again the next day, always pushing a little further each time I ventured out.
In the winter, however, it was much harder to follow. That didn’t surprise me. Even though it was more overgrown than I’d remembered and there weren’t any leaves to block the way, there was snow. Mostly it was pines, and hibernating bushes and trees lined the path. The snow was muddied from where the deer and other animals had come through, so I found it and followed as best as I could, driving deeper into the forest.
Think. It’s time to think.
I need a better plan. So far, all I have are a couple of addresses. Those won’t be enough, will they?
A twig snapped. Boots crunched against the icy snow. Stillness descended upon the forest like a blanket.
I crouched against a tree and waited. It was most likely a bodyguard. I’d snapped at them, but this was their job. They probably followed anyway. But what if it wasn’t a guard? The image of fire flashed through my mind. The planes. First the family jet. Then the bomber plane. Not to mention the gunman at Mom’s funeral, the way the bullets had pinged off the pavement.
Coming out here alone was reckless. What was I thinking?
“Lucas? Is that you?” a soft, feminine voice called out.
The crimson red of Celia’s hair appeared between a couple of trees, and I exhaled my breath.
I relaxed, and I slid out from behind the tree.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I said, approaching Celia. “You shouldn’t be out here. You could get lost. It’s going to be dark soon.”
“I could say the same thing to you,” she said. “Anyway, I was just heading back. You want to walk with me?”
“No,” I replied.
Her mouth clenched. Was she surprised? Offended? Not that I blamed the girl. I was surprised with myself, but I was tired of the games, and Celia was certainly one to play puppet-master whenever she could. I wasn’t dealing with that today.
“Well, then,” she huffed, “so much for chivalry.”