The Betrayed

by Kiera Cass

  Etan whispered as we walked. “I can’t say this to them, but I can to you: I’m terrified.”

  “You needn’t be. They adore you.”

  He nodded absently, like he was trying to convince himself. “Stay with me? Even though you hate crowns, don’t run off. Not yet.”

  He reached a trembling hand over as we got to the bottom of the stairway. I quickly reached back to give him a reassuring squeeze. “Sorry. If you’re wearing a crown, that’s the end of our friendship. I’ll be in the back throwing rotten food at you.”

  He chuckled a little, and, as we reached the main doors, he let my hand go. The crowd was already making a shocking amount of noise, but I refrained from covering my ears. Etan jumped up on one of the cylindrical stones that lined the entryway, raising a hand to quiet the army before him. I found Mother and Scarlet nearby, and I immediately took Scarlet’s hand, watching to see how the moment we’d been working toward finally played out.

  “Good people, by our laws, I come to you today with proof of our king’s treasonous acts against our fellow Isoltens.” Etan held a fistful of letters high. “In these, we have undeniable evidence that our king has ordered the murder of scores of his citizens. We have proof of the devious methods he’s employed to hold on to his throne. His actions preclude him from ever wearing the crown again. Queen Valentina has renounced her crown and fled the country,” he called, and Quinten looked up to him in shock. “And it has been brought to my attention that Prince Hadrian died this morning.”

  There was a murmuring through the crowd.

  “As a descendant of Jedreck the Great, I stand before you today to claim my right to the throne of Isolte, and to ask your blessing as I take it from this unjust man.” Etan pointed to Quinten. I supposed he was a king no more.

  The crowd cheered, ready to be done with the years of absolute terror. When they had all but quieted down, one brave soul shouted out above the crowd, “Justice for the Eastoffes!” and the cry went up again.

  At this, Quinten, whose head had been low under the blows of losing his wife, his son, and his throne in one fell swoop, stood up straight, raising a hand. “I will admit that I have done plenty of things over the years some might call criminal. I’m sure that, very soon, I will be forced to tell a committee all about them. But the Eastoffes’ blood is not on my hands.”

  I felt the tension in Scarlet’s body change completely through the touch of her hand, and Mother staggered a breath before calling out, “Liar!”

  “No, no,” Quinten insisted. “Did I have Valentina’s family killed? Yes. It had to happen. Lord Erstwhell, Lord Swithins . . . a whole family on the coast . . . I’ve had so many people killed in the name of my own peace, I can’t count them. But Sir Eastoffe? That upstart Silas?” He shook his head. “I can’t take credit for that.”

  We stood silently. I clutched the rings at my throat. He admitted to his crimes so easily. Why would he deny this one . . . unless he was telling the truth?

  “If you didn’t, then who did?” Scarlet demanded.

  “Took me a while to figure it out myself,” Quinten said. For the multitudes standing before us, we might have been able to hear a pin fall to the ground for how quietly and intently we were all listening to find the truth behind their deaths. “But it all makes sense now. If you want to know, you should ask her.”

  And I froze in horror as Quinten tipped his chin at me.

  Thirty

  “HOW DARE YOU?” I SHOUTED, nearly dizzy with anger. “I loved Silas! I have nothing to do with his death!”

  “Oh, but you do, dear girl. You have everything to do with it.” Quinten spoke so calmly. “Don’t mistake me. I was relieved to find out the Eastoffe line was all but dead, but I didn’t know it had happened until you walked into my palace and told me about it.”

  “I still don’t understand,” I rasped, hysterical tears threatening to take over in the midst of such a wild accusation. “I didn’t kill Silas.”

  He smiled at me cruelly. “Can you not think of anyone in this world who would want that boy dead more than I would?”

  The edges of my vision went blurry as my body started shaking. Yes. Yes, I could think of someone who would want Silas Eastoffe dead.

  “Jameson,” I whispered.

  After I uttered the word aloud, the people in the crowd picked it up, whispering to one another, carrying it until everyone knew.

  Of course it was Jameson. It explained so much. Why no one in Isolte had heard about the Eastoffes’ dying in the first place. Why he knew to send my widow’s fund so quickly.

  “Oh,” Scarlet mumbled, covering her mouth and shaking her head. “Oh, Hollis. He had a ring.” She looked at me, another piece of her picture coming into perfect clarity. “The man who grabbed me back at Abicrest. He had one of those rings, like your father had. The Coroan rings. I didn’t remember it until now. And, and! He let me go.” She gripped at her hair, looking ready to pull it out.

  “So?”

  “He thought I was you!” she said, finally bringing sense to the moment. “You were supposed to be the only one who made it out alive.”

  So, this was Jameson’s plan. He found out about Silas and eliminated him—eliminated everyone—hoping my desperation would drive me back to the palace. Instead it drove me to Isolte.

  “So, now you know,” Quinten said, looking so pleased with himself. He smirked, looking smug even in his downfall. “And, interestingly enough, if the Eastoffes were truly Coroan citizens, it would seem Jameson is just as guilty as I am. Do you intend to take his crown as well? Throw him in a dungeon?”

  My blood was turning to ice, making my body go numb as it traveled. Jameson. All this time, it was him.

  “Silence!” Etan ordered. “If King Jameson has crimes to atone for, we will address that in the future.” He looked to me, clearly pained to see what this did to me, to be so deceived by someone who claimed to love me. “Today we are here to discuss your crimes and your crown. You just freely admitted to killing Her Majesty’s family and several other courtiers by name. You will kneel and relinquish your crown. Now!”

  Some restless soul called out, “Off with his head!” and a second later, most of the crowd had joined in.

  Quinten looked sideways at Etan, reaching up to remove the coronet. He handed it over to Uncle Reid wordlessly, standing there and awaiting his fate.

  The people were thirsty for blood, and I couldn’t blame them. Quinten had listed their friends and neighbors by name, admitted there was much more. But I wondered what would become of so much violence.

  The fear in Etan’s eyes had returned. What was he to do now? The crown was hanging between his head and Quinten’s, and his new people were making demands. I watched as he drew Jedreck’s sword from its sheath, holding it in his hand with perfect control. I waited for him to come down from his perch, to kill Quinten in one clean stroke. I had no doubt he could do it.

  Instead, he turned and faced the massive army, holding the sword in the air, demanding silence.

  “By law, this man must have a trial. None of us here are fit to stand jury, so we will assemble one from nobles in neighboring countries to offer the fairest treatment we can. Furthermore, he has given the command in many of these murders, but they were done at the hands of the group you and I know as the Darkest Knights. We need names, and only he can provide them. We will not act in anger now; not when we know we can do better. When people speak of this moment, they will speak of how we acted justly, and nothing more.” He turned to a handful of guards. “Escort him to the dungeon; we’ll deal with him in due course.”

  He spoke with such authority that if he told me the law required anything, I’d have believed him. And he looked so regal, so princely atop that stone, sword in his hand, that no one dared to question him.

  “Son?” Uncle Reid said quietly. Etan turned to him. “It’s time.”

  Etan nodded, swallowing hard before jumping off the stone. He looked at me, his eyes still nervous. I gave him
a quick smile and nodded, trying to tell him to just get on with it. He knelt to the ground, the sword still in his hand, driving the tip into the ground like a crutch.

  Etan looked up to his father and then bowed his head.

  “Etan Northcott, son of Reid Northcott, descendant of Jedreck the Great, do you give your word that you will serve and protect the people of Isolte as its king?”

  “All of them. Even unto death,” Etan vowed.

  Uncle Reid placed the crown upon Etan’s head. “Arise, King Etan.”

  He stood, looking somehow even taller, and the crowd exploded into jubilant cheers. Taking deep breaths, Etan climbed back up on the rock to see out into the crowd, and the cheers grew even louder as everyone in the back could now see he wore the crown.

  “My p—” Etan started, but he had to stagger out a breath. He put his hand to his heart and looked near tears when he spoke again. “My people. I thank you for your support. I cannot express my joy in the knowledge that good was done today, and not a single drop of your blood was spilled to attain it. We have much to celebrate!

  “I invite as many of you who would like to please stay. We will open the palace stores and commemorate the day. To any who are unable to stay, I pray that as you travel home, you share the news of what has happened here, and pass on my blessings to every subject in Isolte.”

  There was more cheering as people moved into the palace and spread across the lawn. Etan was enveloped by people, and I watched as he smiled in disbelief as person after person congratulated him.

  King Etan. It suited him.

  In the rush, it was all too easy to take his horse and march quietly through the sea of people, moving against the flow. It wasn’t until I was well outside the palace walls that the crowds somewhat dispersed and I could climb atop Etan’s horse.

  When I’d thought Quinten had killed my husband, I’d only wanted one thing: to look into his eyes as he confessed his sins. And now, I would have that from Jameson.

  I dug my heels into the horse, and we bolted.

  Thirty-One

  I HOPED I WAS HEADING in the right direction. There was one large road out of the city, and once it branched off, I assumed the one heading west would veer north and take me up to Coroa. I was too blinded by my heartache to think of anything but getting to Keresken Castle.

  When I’d left, Jameson had said that I’d come back to him. Did he know even then about Silas? Did he at least suspect? I felt certain that Silas was a well-kept secret until after we were gone. Was he simply prepared to set fire to any other path my life might lead me down so long as the one back to him was clear?

  I thought of all the others who’d died in this farce. Jameson knew about the Darkest Knights and wanted to mimic them to hide his own monstrous deeds. Because he wanted Silas to die, so did everyone at our wedding. Mother was spared because we were in the garden, and Scarlet was only alive because my hair was a little too close to Isolten blonde.

  Tears blurred my vision as I pressed on. I didn’t know what lay before me. I didn’t have a plan. If I accused Jameson, what exactly did I expect to happen? He wouldn’t admit to it, but I had no doubts now that all of the pieces were in place. But, even if he confessed to me, nothing was going to happen to him. Unlike Quinten, he hadn’t wronged most of his countrymen. Jameson was young, charming, beloved. Furthermore, he had no one to challenge him for his throne, so even if he was to lose it, it would make things worse for Coroa. . . .

  What was I doing? I was powerless. I had no army, no proof. I had the word of a deposed king and a stolen horse.

  But, in the depths of myself, I knew I’d never know peace again until I went to Jameson, looked in his eyes, and demanded the truth. For better or worse, I had to keep going.

  I rode on, noting how quickly the sun was moving and thinking of the carriage ride to the palace a week ago. I’d had a similar feeling in my gut, like I was moving closer and closer to the thing that might kill me. The difference then was that Mother and Scarlet were riding ahead of me. And Etan was beside me.

  Oh, Etan. How I wanted to kick him in his shins every time I saw him. The thought brought a smile to my lips. I just wanted to one-up him at everything. Little chance of that now. Hard to get better than being king.

  He was going to do so well. He had good parents to guide him, a purpose to direct his passion toward. He had the skill to curb anger and enough wit to disarm anyone daring enough to get close to him.

  He was going to absolutely flourish.

  I thought of that string in my chest, the one that pulled me to Silas, the one that pulled me to Mother and Scarlet. That thread was now fully unspooled at the feet of Etan Northcott, and I imagined nothing would tug at my heart ever again.

  In a way, I wanted to mourn—certainly this was the end of so many things for me. But I was also so grateful. I’d finally gone somewhere. I’d built a family. Even if I failed in Coroa, I’d helped bring justice for those in Isolte. I’d loved, and I’d been loved. It was all more than I’d imagined myself capable of. So I rode into the unknown with doubt in my heart, but my head held high.

  What was that?

  I heard something that sounded like a rumbling storm. The sky around me still looked clear, and even when I surveyed the fields in front of me, nothing was there. Where was that noise coming from? What was that sound?

  “Hollis!”

  I pulled the horse to a dead stop, turning in disbelief.

  On the horizon, Etan was coming, full speed, coronet on his head, and his army behind him.

  My eyes welled.

  He’d come for me.

  “Hollis!”

  I waved back to him, telling him I was waiting. He raised his hand, and the mass of men on horses behind him came to a stop as he carried on, coming to meet me.

  He stopped as we faced one another atop our horses, staring at each other.

  “Hello,” he finally said.

  And I laughed. “Etan Northcott, you idiot—”

  “King Idiot to you, thank you.”

  “—what are you doing here?”

  He sighed, looking at me as if it were obvious. “My dearest friend, who usually, mind you, is very bright, decided to ride off—alone—and confront a king for something he undoubtedly did, but for which she has no proof. Alone. And my guess is she actually has no idea how to proceed once she gets there. And did I mention she was alone?”

  “You did.”

  “Ah, well. Then you see why I had to come.”

  I shook my head. “You can’t go with me to Coroa. You’ve been king for, what, a few hours? Go home.”

  “And you cannot run off to face Jameson on your own,” he replied. “I knew you were a bit ridiculous, but this is too much, even for you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “This is how we’re doing this? You’re just going to insult me?”

  “It seems if I do it enough, you see reason. So, yes. Also, your hair looks terrible.”

  “What?” I asked, reaching up to touch it.

  He smirked. “I’m joking. You look like a goddess riding into battle. You’re glorious.”

  I put my hand down, shaking my head and smiling against my wishes. I looked over his shoulder to the army behind him.

  “I can’t ask you to come with me. I can’t ask them to come with me. This isn’t their fight.”

  “You’re not asking,” he said. “I didn’t even ask them. I announced where I was going, and . . .” He gestured to the throngs of men behind him.

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “Besides, as the widow of an Isolten citizen, and in a sense an extended member of the royal family—”

  “Barely. Not even by blood.”

  “No, not by blood. By an hour of marriage. Yes, I understand the terms of your arrival. Still, you are under my rule. And you are under my protection. You’re an Isolten, Hollis. And I won’t let you face your enemy alone. I won’t let you do anything alone.”

  I batted back the tears. My heart was allo
wing me to make too much of those words, and I wanted to hate it for that. Instead, I did what I always did with Etan. I argued.

  “I remember someone saying I would never be Isolten.”

  He shrugged. “It was easier than admitting you already were.”

  We stayed there a moment, horses shifting beneath us, watching each other’s eyes.

  “I’m going whether you like it or not. In the same way you have been both Coroan and Isolten, so was my uncle, so were my cousins. Killing one’s own subjects is evil, and Jameson ought to be held responsible.”

  I swallowed. “We may not walk out alive.”

  “If that’s the case, then I’ll fall beside you. And Scarlet will be queen. And I will be happier in my death than I ever thought I could be.”

  I let out a shaky breath.

  “Good luck keeping up. This horse is fast.” I pulled the reins and started moving.

  “That’s because he’s mine!” he protested, lifting his hand to move the army.

  We rode wordlessly, Etan right beside me and his army not far behind. I didn’t mind that we said nothing; there was a great comfort in being silent with Etan. It allowed my mind room to wander, to test out courses of action. I kept thinking of how I needed to address Jameson. If he was as desperate to see me as Quinten claimed, then he’d surely take me somewhere alone, away from the eyes of court to greet me properly. I could ask him about the attack then, maybe even lie and say I was flattered he’d do something so grand for my sake. If I could just get him to confess to me, that was enough to bring a case against him. As a fellow monarch, Etan could do that.

  I just had to get that far.

  But the first hitch in my plan showed up at the border: a Coroan patrol, with wide barricades that stretched down into the tree lines, making it impossible to pass through unseen.

  “I have an idea,” I said to Etan. He merely nodded as we pulled up to a halt.

  One of the men crossed in front of the barricade, his flat palm telling me to stop, though I already had.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, motioning to the wave of people behind us.