That’s it. Lead them to the water . . . but don’t push them in . . . Mackiel’s voice was in her head. He nodded infinitesimally at her.
“You are right, my queen,” Jenri replied. “We cannot wait a moment longer. The people will not be pleased to hear we’ve concealed the truth. Rumors have begun to spread that something awful has happened. We must announce the deaths of the queens, and your rise to the Torian throne, to keep the peace.”
“Yes, yes.” Arebella nodded a little too enthusiastically. “It must be done.”
Jenri motioned to one of his staff. “Record a special Queenly Report detailing the murders to follow Queen Arebella’s coronation announcement.”
Arebella sat straighter in her throne. Waiting . . . Waiting . . .
When he did not say any more, Arebella rose.
“My queen?” he asked. “Is there something else you wish to speak of today?”
Were they all fools? What were they waiting for?
“A decision must be made,” she replied, her voice filling the cavernous chamber.
“A decision?” he asked, the bags underneath his eyes seeming to swell. “About what, my queen?”
Fools it was, then.
“For the other quadrants.” She eased the frustration from her voice. “Toria is protected, but what about the others?”
“I’m sorry, my queen. But as I said, we could not find any living relatives. We will continue to search for other female descendants, those not directly related to the queens, but we’ll have to run genetic testing on the entire population of Quadara. It could take years to find someone with royal blood.”
“Years?” Arebella pressed her lips together for a moment. “We can’t leave the other quadrants without a queen for that long, can we?”
“No,” he said uncertainly, glancing to the other advisors, who shook their heads in agreement. “I suppose not.”
“Then another system needs to be put in place. We have no choice.” Her patience was wearing thin. Surely, he could see they were out of options. When he didn’t speak, she added, “Temporarily, of course.”
Jenri turned to the other advisors, and they began speaking heatedly. After what seemed like hours, he turned back to Arebella.
“You are the only surviving Quadarian with royal blood,” he said. Arebella lowered her head sagely. “We could place you in charge of the other quadrants, however—”
“If that’s what must be done,” she interrupted. “Then I will endure the extra burden.”
“But, my queen.” Jenri’s eyes were wide. “If you were to take their thrones, there is no undoing it. It would not be temporary.”
Arebella knew all of this, but she forced her face to scrunch in confusion. “Why?”
“It is part of Queenly Law, something we must uphold. For if anyone with royal blood is to take the throne, then they absorb the power of that quadrant until their dying day.”
“But that law was written for the queen’s quadrant only,” one of the advisors said. She was a tall woman with white hair. Alissa. Arebella remembered her from one of the many introductions over the last few days. She was married to Queen Corra’s former handmaiden. “When a queen takes her throne, she is bound to that throne till her death.”
“It is not stipulated that she can only hold one throne,” Jenri said.
Yes. Yes. Finally, they are getting it.
“Jenri,” Arebella said, bowing her head slightly, “I will do whatever my quadrant or quadrants want of me. Whatever is best for Quadara.” She pinned him with her gaze. “It’s what my mother would have wanted.”
That’s it. Play upon his weakness. Mackiel’s voice was clear in her head.
Jenri addressed the other advisors. “We were planning to wait till we found a distant descendant, but Arebella proposes a quicker solution. If the choice is between the quadrants being notified their queen is dead and no one has yet to take the throne, or the quadrants being notified their queen is dead and the last royal will rule all the quadrants, then we have no choice but to place Queen Arebella in charge of all of Quadara.”
“For all time?” Ketor, the old, stoic Eonist advisor, asked. “That is too much to ask.”
“Until her dying day,” Jenri clarified. “As Queenly Law states. We cannot read around the laws at such an unstable time.”
This is it. This is it. Arebella bunched her skirts in her hands to stop from shaking.
“No,” said another advisor. He had red hair, and it was clear from his bloodshot eyes that he’d been crying. Lyker. It had to be. She’d heard the palace staff whispering about his scandalous relationship with Queen Stessa. “That’s not what Stess—that’s not what Queen Stessa would’ve wanted. She wanted to protect Ludia and keep it separate from the other quadrants. What would this—” He looked at Arebella. “I mean, what would the queen know of the other quadrants’ wishes? She just arrived here. She didn’t even know she was a royal until six days ago. And she’s so young!”
How dare he! He was barely older than her.
“I agree,” Ketor said. “Queen Corra would also have been against this.”
But she’s dead. They’re all dead. Arebella bit her tongue to stop from replying. Mackiel subtly held a hand up, palm facing her. Take deep breaths. Don’t let them know what you want. She knew what he was trying to say.
“Then you teach Queen Arebella everything you know,” Jenri said. “Ensure she rules wisely.
“What other choice do we have?” he asked when the other advisors didn’t reply. “Queen Arebella is correct. We cannot wait years to find someone suitable. It is too risky.”
“But Queenly Law . . .” Alissa lamented. She glanced at the walls around her, but the etched words were still unclear due to the little sunlight filtering in from above.
“These are desperate times,” Jenri said. “We must do what is right for Quadara. The queens would all have agreed to that.”
Alissa lowered her head. “Yes, Queen Iris would do anything for her quadrant. I suppose even if it meant sitting a Torian upon her throne.”
Ketor nodded solemnly, while Lyker stayed quiet. Clearly, he did not agree with the other advisors.
“Queen Arebella?” Jenri’s sullen eyes were back upon hers. “The choice is yours.”
Yes. Yes. Yes.
“Of course,” she replied. “I will do what is right for Quadara, for my people. And I will respect the memory of the passed queens.”
Don’t look at Mackiel. Don’t look at Mackiel, she warned herself, for she knew she would be unable to hide her grin.
“Good,” Jenri said. “You are already a queen; all that must be done now is to sit upon each throne and declare your loyalty to that quadrant.”
Arebella rose. “I’m ready.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Keralie
I waited thirty minutes before enacting my plan. I had to ensure Mackiel had left, and I needed the extra time to collect my thoughts, and myself, from the floor.
I’d killed the queens. I couldn’t hide from the truth any longer. Not if I wanted to get out of here. And everything finally made sense. Why I was always close to each queen’s death, but too late to save her. How could I have saved the queens from myself?
I’d thought my timing had been off since I entered the palace, unable to save the queens, but I’d been right on schedule. Exactly as Mackiel had planned it. Me, his windup doll. The ticking-time-clock assassin.
But this wouldn’t break me. All my other faults were on me. My parents’ boat, my father’s injury, my years of thieving and running away. But not this. Yes, I’d delivered death to each queen, but I wasn’t culpable. I’d come to the palace to save the queens, not hurt them. My hand might’ve struck them down, but Mackiel controlled the blade. He was the guilty one.
I couldn’t let him get away with this.
> I was halfway up the prison stairs, ready to fight the guards outside, when soft footsteps padded from the adjoining corridor. I darted to the top and pressed against the door, waiting for the guard to round the corner and meet my raised fist. I wasn’t willing to use Mackiel’s blade on anyone but a locked door.
The guard opened the door; my first punch met his stomach, sending him to the ground. I launched on top of him, my second punch aimed for his temple.
“Stop,” the guard said. “It’s me!”
“Varin?” I paused, my fist hovering above his face. “What are you doing here?”
He rolled over and held up his hands. At first, I thought in surrender, but he was holding up a butter knife and fork.
“I thought you could use these,” he said. “To escape.”
“You came back to help? But you said—”
“I believe you,” he interrupted. “I believe you didn’t kill the queens. I don’t know what I saw, but I know it wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been you.” His pale eyes cut into me, sending my heart and head into a spin. “I was wrong. And I’ll make it up to you. First, we need to get out of here.”
“Well . . . I . . .” How could I explain everything that had happened? He had no reason to question what he saw—he’d been right about me—about all of it.
“Can I get up?” he asked.
I was still straddling him, my fist clenched. “Sure.” I blushed and scrambled off him. “Sorry.”
We stared at one another. Before I could say anything more, he grabbed me, his arms encircling my waist.
“I’m so, so sorry.” His words were whispered into my greasy hair. “Can you forgive me?”
I pushed him back, although I wanted to lose myself in the feeling of him. I’d thought I was never going to see him again, and now he wanted my forgiveness? Here he was, pushing logic and everything Eonist away and trusting his heart instead. Trusting in me. Against everything.
I couldn’t find the words, my throat thick with emotion. I nodded instead.
“Let’s get out of here, then.” He grabbed my hand. “They’re coming for you in less than an hour.” But I couldn’t let him do this without knowing the truth. If he was caught helping me flee the palace, then his life would be forfeit.
Could he forgive me?
“What?” he said. “What is it?”
I shook my head, tears threatening to fall. I didn’t want him to stop looking at me the way he was looking at me. Like I was everything to him. His heart and his future. The girl in that drawing. I didn’t want to destroy that. Destroy us.
“Keralie,” he whispered, his gloved fingers on either side of my face. “We’ll get out of here. Together. Don’t worry.”
“It’s not that. You need to know the truth before you leave with me.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I—I did kill the queens . . .” Saying it still felt wrong, even knowing the truth.
His posture changed immediately, his shoulders drooping, arms falling to his sides. His face blanked, as if he’d slammed a door on his emotions.
“Stop,” I said quickly, reaching for him. “Let me explain.”
I told him about the new Eonist technology and how Mackiel had used the chips to control me. Varin was quiet the entire time, only a flicker of emotion passing behind his eyes when I mentioned how I’d been controlled.
“Will you forgive me?” I asked, pain pinching my insides. I wasn’t sure I could leave this place if he couldn’t. It was one thing to help me believing I’d been framed. Now he knew the truth. I had murdered the queens. Perhaps that was too much to ask. He was Eonist. He believed in goodness and justice. He only knew how to see and judge what was in front of him. And yet he was still here. Still looking into my eyes.
“Yes,” he said, though his voice was rough and cautious.
“I’ll understand if you don’t want to escape with me anymore.” Would he push me down the stairs and back inside the cell? Would he want to see me hanged?
He pulled my face toward his and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. I tangled my hands in his hair, feeling anchored to the world once more, and feeling more myself than I had in days. In years.
He pulled away. “Of course I want to be with you. You weren’t in control of your actions. It’s not your fault. It could’ve been anyone under Mackiel’s control . . .” But his stoic mask was back in place.
I traced my hand across his rough jaw. “What are you thinking?” I wanted to pull the mask off and burn it.
“I was thinking we’ve wasted too much time.” He grabbed my hand once more. “And that I’m going to kill Mackiel if I ever see him again.”
* * *
—
“WHERE ARE ALL the guards?” I asked as we left the prison. It was odd, considering I was to meet my executioner in under an hour.
“I may have told them they were needed by the inspector,” he said with a shrug, “to prepare for the hanging.”
I shot him a surprised look. “And they believed you?”
He turned away, his voice barely audible when he replied, “I’m Eonist. Plus, I turned you in. They trust me not to help you.”
I gave his hand a squeeze. “I forgive you, remember that.”
He glanced at me briefly, hope lighting his eyes, and opened his mouth to say more.
I chuckled. “We can talk about it later.”
We hurried down the corridor toward the Archian section of the palace. Before I could push them away, images of Queen Iris flashed through my mind.
“Why are we going this way?” I asked, digging in my heels. Even if I was willing to accept I hadn’t been in control when I’d slit Queen Iris’s throat, that didn’t mean I wanted to return to where the deed had been done.
“The Archian garden is the only access to the outside world, aside from the processing room, and there’s no way we can get through the barred door. Not even you can.” He grinned. “We’ll have to scale down the cliff and find passage in a boat and go where no one will find us.”
He’d put a lot of thought into this. A life and future planned for both of us. A life on the run. I’d never see my family again—or what was left of my family.
He tugged on my hand. “Come on.”
“No.”
“No?”
“I’m not going.”
His brow furrowed. “But this is the only way out.”
“I’m not leaving the palace.” His eyes narrowed. “I want to be free, but not until the inspector and the rest of the palace know the truth. I can’t let Mackiel and Arebella get away with this. She killed her own mother! She can’t remain the Torian queen.”
“You’re willing to risk your life for this?”
I was used to putting myself above everyone else. Stealing what I wanted, doing what came naturally. Looking for quick and easy wealth. Thinking that my wants and desires were more important than everyone else’s. But now I had the opportunity to be someone different. Someone worth my parents’ love. The girl they’d raised me to be.
Arebella couldn’t be left to rule Toria. If she was willing to kill her own mother, what else was she capable of? And with Mackiel by her side, the darkness would spread from the Jetée to the Skim and even to the palace itself. While I couldn’t bring the queens back, I could do this. It didn’t matter what might happen to me. The queens deserved retribution.
“Let’s find the inspector,” I said, pulling Varin along. “We have one final date in court.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Arebella
Queen of Toria
Rule fourteen: It is the queens’ duty to ensure peace among the quadrants.
Arebella sat upon the Archian throne first. It was only fitting, as Queen Iris had been the first to die. Mackiel beamed from the crowd, his gold top hat askew. There would be much to celebrate tonight.
Alissa stood in the crowd beside her Archian wife. She gave her a resigned look before stepping up to the dais. “Queen Arebella.” She sounded uncertain, her voice barely filling the vast room. “Please raise your right hand.”
Arebella did as instructed. She could not hide the tremble of anticipation. Jenri gave her a reassuring smile, misreading her shaking. Too soft, Arebella thought. She might need to replace him, in time.
“Repeat after me,” Alissa said. “I, Queen Arebella.”
“I, Queen Arebella.”
“Promise to uphold all that my quadrant”—she shook her head for a moment before continuing—“Archia believes in.”
Arebella repeated the words while smiling at her new Archian advisor. Time stretched out before her with an open hand. She’d win her over, eventually.
“And with this Queenly Pledge,” Alissa finished, “my life is Archia’s, and Archia is my life. Until my dying day.”
Arebella swallowed. This is really happening. Archia was hers.
“And with this Queenly Pledge,” she said clearly, her voice filling the grand golden room. A ray of light warmed her back as the sun attempted to break through the clouds. A new dawn. “My life is Archia’s, and Archia is my life. Until my—”
The Archian door to court flew open. The inspector entered flanked by two people. Before she could see who they were, they were swarmed by guards.
“That’s not necessary,” the inspector said calmly. “They are here on my authority.”
“Who is it?” Arebella rose from her throne.
The guards pulled the two intruders forward.
“Keralie,” Arebella said, taken aback. Next to her stood her Eonist accomplice, his face set, shoulders squared.
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