Broken Crowns

by Lauren DeStefano

“My father is trying to protect me,” Celeste says. “He has always treated me as a sort of . . . well, a pet. Azure is the one who will inherit the throne, and I’m just a spare of sorts. So when I returned from the ground with talk of uniting Internment with Havalais, he didn’t want to take me seriously. I told him that King Ingram wasn’t to be trusted, but that I had a plan. Nim and I had a plan to unite our kingdoms, in a way that couldn’t be disputed or overturned.”

  “A plan?” I say. “Nimble hasn’t told us anything.”

  “I was rushed back home in such a hurry, we couldn’t be sure that it would take. And it’s too dangerous for me to send word with one of the guards. If the wrong person knows about it, I’ll be killed and it will all be for nothing. All I can hope for now is that my brother will find a way to tell Nim for me. He deserves to know.”

  “I’m confused,” I say. “What is this plan? What does Nim deserve to know?”

  Celeste looks to the guard in gray, who does a sweeping glance of the perimeter. Then he nods at her.

  Daintily, Celeste walks the length of the brush until she has found a clearing. She meets my eyes and for once she seems uncertain, nervous.

  And then she steps out into the plum court, and I see her pregnant stomach.

  My breath catches in my throat, and for an instant I think it’s some sort of trick—a costume. But her worried stare as she gnaws on her lip tells me that this is quite real. I must sway a bit on my feet, because Basil puts his hand against my back to steady me.

  “You and Nimble planned this?” I get out.

  Her eyes brighten. “Don’t you see? Whether it’s a secret in his world or not, Nim is a prince. The king is his grandfather. And I’m a princess. Our child is going to be born of two worlds. The first ever! Just think of it.”

  “I . . .” There are so many questions, I scarcely know where to begin. “What does your betrothed have to say about all this?”

  She waves her hand. “I told you, he doesn’t care about me. My only worth to him is all for political gain. He came by to see me once, when I first returned, and I suspect my father arranged the entire thing for show, just so the kingdom would believe he was worried about me. But he doesn’t know about this.”

  I’m trying not to stare. It’s just that I’ve never seen anyone pregnant as young as she is. And out of the queue, at that. “But your father didn’t arrange for you to have a termination procedure?” The words are sour on my tongue. That’s what would have happened to anyone else.

  “I have a good understanding of how these things go,” Celeste says, seeming quite proud of herself. “I kept it a secret for as long as I could. Months. By the time he caught on, it was too late to do anything about it. Around the fourth month or so, there are too many risks. He was livid, of course, but he doesn’t want me to be killed. Oh, Morgan, you look so pensive.”

  “I’m surprised,” I amend. Though, really, should I be? This is exactly the sort of reckless plan she would come up with. I’m only shocked that Nim—cool, practical, levelheaded Nim—would agree to it.

  She reaches forward and grabs my hand. She’s still holding Nim’s envelope, and something about it seems to have energized her anew. “There will be more. You should go back to the party before anyone knows you’re missing, but I’ll visit you as soon as I can—tonight if I can manage it. I’m so glad you’re the one King Ingram sent back.”

  She’s gone before I can think of anything else to say to her.

  The guard in gray brings us back to the party. He leans between Basil and me. “There are those of us who are on your side,” he says. And then he’s gone.

  10

  I wish Pen were here. Undoubtedly she would say the wrong thing about Celeste’s situation. The unkind thing. She would fill this silence with words, easily. That’s just one of her many talents.

  But she isn’t here, and I’m left to face my own thoughts about it, and they frighten me. My anger frightens me.

  The party is over and the door has been closed behind us. Basil lights the oil lamp and sits on the edge of the window and watches me.

  I pace.

  “Are you all right?” he says.

  “Yes,” I say. “No.”

  “Tell me,” he says.

  If Pen were here, she’d speak for me. I wouldn’t have to say it. “I have no right to be angry,” I confess. “It isn’t my decision. Maybe she’s got a coherent plan this time.”

  “But you are angry,” Basil says.

  I drop onto the edge of the bed. “Alice didn’t get to keep her baby,” I say, and I keep my voice low in case anyone might overhear. We’ve surely got guards keeping watch over us somewhere. “I saw what that did to her, and to Lex. It ruined their lives, and the king knew it would, but he didn’t care. But Celeste can do as she pleases because she’s a princess?”

  My hands are shaking. I lock my fingers together and press them into my lap.

  “Would you feel better if the king had forced her to terminate it?” Basil asks, and he knows me well enough to already know my answer. He just wants me to admit it.

  “No, that isn’t it. I just think it’s unfair is all.” I think back on what Celeste told me about the attraction camps, how scared she was that her brother might end up there if the king found out. I thought that being prince and princess didn’t immunize them to our world’s rules. But Celeste, cleverly and foolishly, slipped through somehow. Just this one time. I hate the unfairness of it, and I hate that, in spite of everything, it gives me hope. “I don’t want her to terminate it,” I say. “But I didn’t want Alice to have to, either. And she’s hardly the only one. My brother told me that there were lots of procedures when he was a medical student. Lots of people who didn’t want to.”

  Basil is quiet for a long while, and then he gets up and he makes his way over to the bed. He sits beside me, stares down at my hands that are so tightly clinging to each other that my knuckles are white.

  “Lots of people would find it unfair that she’s having a baby out of queue,” he says. “Some might be as angry as you are, but others might be less understanding. Don’t you think there are even some out there who might want to terminate it themselves?”

  I wince. I know he’s right. “The whole point of the queue is to keep things fair,” I say, repeating something I’ve heard countless times in class. “To abate jealousy. I do think there are people who would want to kill it—kill her if they had to. And with things being what they are, people are more likely to snap.”

  “Which is why the king is hiding her from the city,” Basil says.

  I nod. “The prince told me to find her when I returned home. Whatever her plan is, she needs my help. And I will help. For Internment, and to make sure she’s safe. It’s just . . . unfair.”

  “I know,” Basil says. He puts his arm around me, and I lean against him. “Prince Azure knew what he was doing when he convinced King Ingram to send you back home. He knew you’d be just the one to help.”

  “What a foolish idea,” I say. “Pen is the genius. Why me?”

  “Pen is a logical thinker and a problem solver,” he agrees. “But you’ve got a cooler head. You care about people.”

  “I’ve been told I’m diplomatic,” I say, mockingly.

  “You are,” he says. “It’s one of my favorite things about you. Don’t undersell yourself. You’re here to do something important.”

  “Oh yeah?” I look at him, and I’m startled by the sincerity in his eyes. “And just what is that?”

  He tucks a bit of stray hair behind my ear. “I don’t know,” he says. “We’ll see.” There’s a bit of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. He’s worn this expression since we were children, whenever he had something kind to say to me.

  “I don’t understand you,” I say, my voice nearly a whisper. “I cause you nothing but trouble, but still, you just—love me. Why?”

  He tucks my hair back again, and this time he keeps his hand at my cheek. “Don’t know,” he says.
“I’m out of my mind, I guess.”

  I lean closer. “Me too,” I say, and I see his eyes close an instant before mine, and then I’m kissing him.

  I can feel the rumble of the jet in my bones, and smell the fresh cut grass that spluttered from the blades on the ground, and I can hear the songstresses chirping outside the open window. He’s everywhere and nowhere, his fingers moving down the length of my arm.

  I forget about Princess Celeste and Prince Azure and the painfully desperate eyes of the people at that party. I forget about untrustworthy kings and spinning round planets, and I know that of all the places, and of all the people in this world and the one below, I am right where I’m meant to be.

  Somehow, one of his hands has made it to my thigh, and I feel the fabric of my dress moving up and up as he knots the fabric in his fist.

  “Basil?”

  He kisses my jaw, and then right under my ear. “What?”

  “I want to be honest with you.” My dress has reached my hip and I roll my head back. He kisses my neck, and I wrap my arms around his neck to draw him nearer still. And suddenly I’m afraid to speak, afraid to ruin whatever has brought us to this moment. We have both lost so much and stand to lose so much more, but we still have each other, and maybe that’s the only thing left that’s certain.

  “Honest about what?” He draws back just enough to look at my face. “Is this too much? Do you want to stop?”

  “No,” I say. “No, I want this. But you might not, after you know what I’ve done.”

  His hand is still on my thigh, and I’m sorry that I’ve said anything, that I may have put a halt to things. But no, he should know the truth. “I kissed Judas,” I say. “Or—he kissed me, but I didn’t stop it.”

  It’s as though he has just absorbed a punch. His eyes are dark. “When?”

  “Months ago, on the ground, right before the jet took off for the first time.” My skin feels cold where he was kissing me.

  “Do you love him?” Basil asks.

  “No.” I shake my head. “And he doesn’t love me. That’s not what it was.”

  He sits back, away from me. “What was it, then?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “It isn’t about love on the ground. People our age just don’t think that way. It’s all about—about just being in the moment.”

  “Yes, I’ve been to the ground,” he says. “I know that they all live without consequences down there. I’ve seen how that kingdom is run. But I assumed we were different.”

  “Better, you mean.”

  “Yes, better. I thought our way was better. I thought you agreed.”

  “We aren’t better than anyone, Basil. Look at our king. He’s no better than theirs.”

  “I’m not talking about kings,” he says, and his voice is frighteningly low. He’s never been so angry with me. “I’m talking about you and me.”

  “You asked me if I wanted to take off my ring,” I remind him. “You said, ‘You can call what we have a betrothal, or not, but I’ll still be here.’ ”

  I know he remembers. It was after the bombing at the harbor, and I’d just said I loved him as we walked past the charred remains of Nim’s car at the fire altar.

  “You said it,” I tell him, desperate to wipe that look of pain from his face. “You said you’d still be here.”

  He stands and paces to the window. Maybe he’d walk away if he thought he could get out the door without being accosted by guards. “You didn’t tell me for months. Part of you must have wanted him. Even if it was just one kiss, he’s lived on in your mind, in secret, for all these months. You must have been replaying it over and over.”

  He knows me better than anyone else could. Better than even Judas could. And he’s right. My knees are shaking. “You’re right,” I confess. “All my life I’ve known what to expect. Lex couldn’t take it. He went too close to the edge, and even after I saw what happened to him, even after all that pain he suffered, I was jealous, because he did something brave. He broke an important rule that our world had laid out for him. Not a lot of people do that. I wanted to do that, and I was afraid. Even after we left Internment, I told Pen over and over that I was going to marry you, and I tried to keep her from drinking too much, and I was polite, and I was still living my life according to these rules.”

  My voice cracks. “And then Judas kissed me. That was the one thing I never expected to happen; I never saw myself kissing someone other than you. I didn’t think I was capable of something like that. It surprised me that I was. And yes, I wanted it for myself. Not Judas, not even the kiss, but the bravery of it.”

  “Well, I’m truly glad you got to experience your rebel moment,” Basil says bitterly.

  “I wanted to share it with you,” I say. “Basil, please. I want you to understand.”

  “You can’t share it with me,” he cries, turning to face me. “That’s the whole point!”

  I look at my lap. Tears are blurring my vision. “I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “I can’t undo it.”

  “Would you even want to?” he asks.

  After a long pause, I whisper, “No.”

  “Well, at least you’re still being honest.”

  He turns back to face the window, and the silence between us is so painful, I can’t stand it. I know that he’s right to be angry, but I can’t undo that kiss with Judas. I can’t even bring myself to regret it.

  I stare at the door and I contemplate using it. I know I can’t go far. But maybe I could just sit on the other side of it, put some distance between us.

  Ultimately I’m not brave enough to move. I only sit on the edge of the bed, tears blurring my view of the floor, as the silence goes on.

  I don’t know how long it is before a soft knock at the door jars me from my thoughts. “Morgan?” Celeste whispers. The door creaks open and she peers into the room. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re still awake. I saw the light under the door.”

  She has no idea what sort of tension she’s walking into. Basil doesn’t move from the window as she comes in and sits on the bed. She sinks back against her arms with a groan. “I’ve never realized what a chore all these stairs are, all my life running up and down them. Some of the newer buildings have lifts, but Papa refuses to install one here. He says it will ruin the structural integrity or some such.”

  She’s barefoot, and with a glance I can see how purpled and swollen her feet are.

  “Where do you sleep?” I ask.

  “Our apartment is up one more flight, on the top floor,” she says. “It’s quite nice, actually. Mother has been too ill to leave for a year now, but she’s got everything she needs up there. I’ve hardly been able to come down myself. I can’t tell you what an ordeal it was coming back up after I met you in the plum court.” She waves her hand over her head. “But I didn’t come here to complain.” She grabs my hands. “You’ve seen my brother, yes? How is he?”

  “Travel agrees with him,” I say.

  “He wasn’t happy about being made to go to the ground,” Celeste says. “He’s convinced that being down there so long has caused me to go mad. But as I’m sure you gathered, King Ingram forced my father’s hand. He needs a prisoner. That’s how he works.”

  “Isn’t your father worried about your brother?” I say.

  “Well—yes,” Celeste says. “But the way he sees it, Azure is next in line to be king. And it’s a king’s duty to protect his kingdom. He should be willing to put himself in a bit of peril if that’s what Internment needs.” She squeezes my hand. “But Az and I aren’t planning to do things our father’s way. We’ve got a plan that we know he’d never go for.”

  “The baby, you mean,” I say.

  She pats her stomach. “The baby is more of a long term plan. It’ll be born of two worlds and inherit both thrones, but not anytime soon. No. In the short term, before he left, my brother and I spoke with several of the guards and patrolmen. We learned which ones were to be trusted. We’ve been gathering intelligence about King Ingram an
d the ground. In fact, that letter from Nimble was stuffed with information about King Ingram’s failed attempts to refine the phosane.”

  “I thought it would be all love letters,” I say.

  “Well, yes.” She grins. “There was a bit of that, too. But that’s neither here nor there.” She turns her head to Basil, who has been listening in silence. “This isn’t all girl talk, you know. Come over and join us.”

  Without a word he pulls up the footstool and sits across from us. He doesn’t meet my eyes.

  “You’ve come at just the right time,” Celeste tells us. “As much as I can trust a few of the patrolmen and guards, I can’t exactly go broadcasting my condition to the city. When my condition became . . . well, more obvious, my brother began doing all the speaking with the engineers. But in his absence, it’ll be your turn.”

  “You want Basil and me to speak to engineers?” I say.

  “Yes. Well, one engineer. He’s head honcho over at the glasslands and you’ll want to update him about what’s going on with the ground. My father will send you there on some frivolous pretense of giving them a morale boost. He doesn’t expect you to accomplish anything—it’s all so the guards will have something positive to report back to King Ingram. But really, I’ve already arranged for you to speak to the head engineer. He’ll tell you his plans, and then you’ll report back to me.” She bounces in her seat, and I wish I had the optimism to mimic her enthusiasm. “It’s all very covert.”

  There’s a sick feeling in my stomach, and I know the answer even before I ask. “Who is the head engineer?” There are several engineers, but there’s one in particular who seems to be in charge of things, and whom I know to be brilliant, the way that his daughter is brilliant.

  “That’s the best part,” Celeste says. “You’ve been acquainted. The head engineer is Nolan Atmus—Pen’s father. He’s a genius, of course. Several years ago he played a key role in the refining system that Internment uses to this day. He found a way to mine our soil more efficiently, so that we no longer need steam power. I can see now where that girl gets her brains, but I wish some of his diplomacy had rubbed off on her.”