He laughed, but the sound was distorted by the connection. Surely it would have been a warm, comforting sound, had he been standing in front of me. “I’ll marry you, Charlotte Turner, for whatever good it will do us. Of course I will.”
I pressed up, toward the big door to the Guardian Level, and ducked into the first room in the hallway, maybe ten feet from the door to the stairwell. It was the commissary, where a young girl had rung the alarm half my lifetime ago. It was also where I’d brought Adam during our raid on Central Command.
Eren was waiting for me.
I rushed toward him, and he grabbed both my hands in his. His grip was light, but there was no softness in his eyes.
Good. I didn’t need this to be any more confusing than it already was.
“Here,” he said, “take this.” He fished around in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a small metal thing.
It was pressed between his fingers, and my mind understood it in pieces: a row of three tiny blue stones. A silver band.
It was a ring.
“Eren,” I started.
He met my eyes. “This has to be believable, Charlotte.”
The ring slid across my finger without difficulty, as though it were meant for me. I found myself staring at it, a perfect, lovely, delicate thing, barely as thick as the head of a pin.
Eren’s eyes followed the ring. I held out my hand, showing him, and his face was masked in an emotion I couldn’t place immediately. Not sorrow, or happiness, but something that combined the two, like he was thinking of something he had loved that was gone forever.
“It’s not that I didn’t want to marry you, Eren. I did. It’s just—we’re so young, and there are too many things you don’t know about me. I thought you deserved…” I looked at him, frowning, unable or unwilling to explain myself. “It’s beautiful.”
There was a long pause—too long—before he spoke. “My mother’s.”
“Eren!” I held the k-band away from my mouth, wishing desperately we could be rid of An, and spoke in a near-whisper. “I can’t take this. Come on. You know I don’t—”
He lay a hand on each of my shoulders, then slid them down until he was cradling my elbows, barely grazing my waist. My skin lit up beneath my sleeves. “Please, Charlotte. For me. It’s the last thing I’ll ask of you. Just wear it. And let’s be done with this.”
“Yeah,” I swallowed. “Okay.”
His gaze shifted from the ring to my eyes. “Thank you.”
“So, where should we do this?” I asked, still catching my breath.
“InterArk Comm Con. Let’s go.”
I nodded, hiding my surprise at his bluntness. “Lead the way.”
Thirty-two
I was escorted to my wedding by enemy guards.
In a way, it was fitting. I had a lifelong habit of attracting police escorts to legal proceedings. Didn’t mean I had to like it, though.
Eren turned the corners sharply. He probably no longer noticed the lavish wallpaper on this hallway, or the endless rows of crystal chandeliers. He’d gotten used to it a long time ago. He didn’t hold my hand along the way.
I guessed that was fitting, too.
So neither of us wanted to be here, then. There was a subtle change in his demeanor when we reached the door to Comm Con. He didn’t touch me, exactly, but he angled his body between me and the door and bent his arm around my elbow. He let a guard punch us into the room.
It was a protective gesture, which made me nervous.
I had no idea why he was acting so distant. It was unlike the forced distance he’d placed between us at the party on Ark Three, easily cast aside the moment we were alone.
The reason for his protectiveness hit me like a volt from a stunner as soon as the door opened. Under a halo of tiny lights, right in the middle of the sunken amphitheater of the communications room, stood the Commander.
He looked about as ecstatic as his son.
I took a moment to collect my wits. This might have been the only move I had, but that didn’t mean I had to go in blind.
I scanned the room. The main desk displayed its default screensaver: a flat smattering of pin-like stars. Under the fluorescent circle of ceiling lights, an oversized hologram matched the display on the main desk. Dots of light rotated slowly through the room, with tiny pinpricks darting among the larger dots. They were meant to look like stars, but I had my suspicions about that. Ever since my first visit to this room, I’d thought the large ones looked more like Arks, and the smaller ones had to represent communications flying among them.
This was where he’d first kissed me. Everything felt familiar, but the room was so different in the light.
Or maybe we were different. I couldn’t tell.
“Eren, I—”
“Yes?”
He looked at me, an open expression on his face, but I choked on my words. Again, I wasn’t going in blind. Marrying Eren was the smart move. The Remnant would be legitimized. The treaty would go into effect. A burst of pressure welled up in my throat, and I pressed it right back down again. Instead of reaching for Eren, I wiped my palms against my hips. I had to get a grip on myself.
This “wedding” would save a hundred thousand lives. Nothing else mattered. Not Eren, not me. Not the strange bubble of hope that enveloped my chest whenever I stood next to him. Not An and not the Commander, who were both planning to kill me, with varying degrees of fervor. Eren stood so straight beside me, making me feel stronger than I was. That didn’t matter, either.
This isn’t real.
None of it means anything.
We descended into the center of the amphitheater, where a skeleton crew of cameras aimed a few shiny lenses in our direction.
Eren took one look at the cameras and turned to his father. “Should she wear anything else? A dress?”
“Unnecessary.” The Commander stood, black robe replaced by his black uniform. The brass medals reflected the lights of the holo. He was impressive.
Eren turned to face me in front of his father. The sight of him threatened my very last molecule of strength. I couldn’t think about the cut of his uniform, the blue of his eyes.
So instead, I thought about An, and the ice in her gaze as she announced her decision. She had meant every word.
“Where is Isaiah?” Eren half-whispered, out of hearing of the cameras.
“I have no idea,” I lied, holding my k-band against my back. “Does he have to be here?”
“The point is to promote unity, Miss Turner,” said the Commander. “Even I am surprised he couldn’t see that.”
The Commander raised his voice, and it echoed through the room. In response, the cameras activated, transmitting their view to every Ark. Above us, a single point of light sent stars darting to every other point, large and small, creating a luminous spider-web of dewy light.
“We are gathered here so that the citizens of every Ark may stand witness to this, the declaration of ceasefire among the people of the North American Ark. The ceremony of commitment on which we are about to embark shall stand as a testament to the commitment of all our people to peace and cooperation.”
At his signal, the lights were lowered, and I stood facing Eren underneath the twinkling canopy.
He took my hands, and my nerves returned in full force. I swallowed. He squeezed, and I saw a flash of concern cross his eyes. He’d only ever tried to protect me, from the moment we met, when I’d believed I would drown in an icy harbor, and he’d guided me past the throng of the walking dead to the safety of the OPT.
But I’d learned a long time ago that safety was a lie that made people soft. That was a lie I could not afford, least of all now, as I prepared to pledge myself to my enemy’s son.
I felt sorry for Eren. After everything we’d been through, he still couldn’t imagine how broken I was. How broken everything around us had become.
This isn’t real.
His hands went limp, having received no encouragement from mine, and he glan
ced at his father, signaling our readiness.
The Commander wasn’t much given to sentimentality, especially in this case, so he cut right to the chase.
“Do you, Eren Everest, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love her and to keep her, forsaking all others, as long as you both shall live?”
Eren spoke without pause. His voice was firm, and the words came easily. His eyes never left mine. “I do,” he said simply.
His father continued without inflection. “And do you, Charlotte Turner, take this man to be your husband? Do you promise to love—” he cut himself off, and looked at his son.
Eren returned the look. There was steel in his eyes.
A deep red flush splashed across the Commander’s face, and he locked his gaze on me. My feet burned, and my knees felt weak. My hands squeezed Eren’s as though my life depended on it, and the ring twisted in our grip.
The ring. The Commander had seen the ring.
I knew then that I had never truly understood him. But in this gaze, he opened his soul to me, daring me to look, to grasp his true self. In that moment, it held one thing, and one thing only: pure hate.
And then, the moment was over. It passed so completely that I had to wonder if I’d imagined it. But I felt the cold chill of sweat between my shoulder blades, and I knew that the Commander’s message was as real as the ring on my finger.
“Ahem,” he said, pretending to suppress a cough, “Do you promise to love and keep him, forsaking all others, as long as you both shall live?”
My throat closed up. I felt my eyes widen under Eren’s steady gaze. All those people were watching me. Every Ark. I bet my dad was watching, too. Was Isaiah? I had to speak, or all was lost, but I simply couldn’t.
Eren’s grip on my hands grew tight, and an instant passed before I realized that I was clutching him, fingers aching, betraying my nerves. I didn’t know how long I’d been doing that, but his grip held me steady.
I took a deep breath, breaking eye contact at the last second. “I do.”
“Then by the power vested in me as High Commander of the North American Ark, I pronounce you man and wife.”
Did I have to kiss Eren, in front of the cameras and the Commander? I steeled myself for the possibility, not wanting to screw everything up at the last second, but it wasn’t an issue.
The Commander looked to one of the guardians. “Does the Imperial of the Asian Ark recognize the parties as lawfully married?” he asked. The guardian touched a device secured around his ear, then gave a firm nod to the Commander.
The lights flicked on, and the Commander strode immediately out of the room, followed by half a dozen aides and as many guards. I held my breath as I watched him leave.
Was—was that it?
Eren and I were left standing in a near-empty room, still surrounded by the unflinching gaze of the cameras.
“Kiss me, Charlotte.”
I leaned in robotically, and his lips met mine for an instant. They were warm and dry and purposeful. I found myself breathing again.
Eren was as eager to leave as his father. “Let’s go.”
We reached his room in minutes, before I’d fully processed where he was leading me, and he released me from his grip the instant we were through the door.
We stared at each other for half a second, then we both spoke at once.
“Are you okay?” he said.
At the same time, I blurted out, “I have to leave.”
He rubbed his face. “Listen, Charlotte. There are things we haven’t said.”
“It’s not the time, Eren. And isn’t this room bugged?”
“No,” he said, a little too strongly. “I took care of that as soon as I got back. I give you my word that we’re completely alone.”
I should have been able to relax, if only for a moment, but there was too much between us. I was completely unnerved by the Commander and seconds away from literally shaking.
“I don’t expect anything, of course, but we have to be able to pass as married. You have to stay here a little while,” he said. The lights flickered, barely enough to be noticed.
“I can’t. The—the Remnant is under attack. I need to go.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” He gave me a strange look, his mind far away. I couldn’t fathom what was going on in his head. “I’m not going to make you stay. But at least—we should talk.”
I nodded mutely.
He crossed the room to the little linoleum kitchen. “Would you like some water?”
I shook my head. “Don’t. It’s not safe.”
“You really think my father would try to drug the water?” When I didn’t answer, he gave a defeated sigh and took a seat on the bed. “Fine.”
“What did you want to talk about?”
“You. Me. I feel like I owe you an explanation for what happened at the party.”
“It’s—it’s not a big deal, Eren. You wanted to save the Ark, and this was the best way to do it. I understand.”
“No, you don’t,” he said angrily.
His tone was disconcerting, and I felt my own anger rising up. It was familiar, comforting even. “Why are you so upset right now? It’s not like I had a choice about any of this!”
“You think you’re the only one who doesn’t have a say here?”
“You set this whole thing up with Isaiah. You—of course you had a say!” I picked up a little gray pillow from the couch and sat down, hard, crushing it onto my lap.
He shifted on the bed. “I did want this, Charlotte. I wanted it so much. I thought we could fix everything, if we could be together. I tried to ask you. On the balcony. I was going to propose, before my father showed up.”
We would never be free of him.
The lights flickered again. Eren continued. “I thought if you said yes, then I could tell you the plan for the agreement. And then, no matter what happened, we’d have always had that. A real engagement. Everything else would have worked out.”
I crossed my arms and glared at him. His sincerity was infuriating. “And now?”
“And now… I don’t know. You’re right. It’s not the same.”
I raised an eyebrow. “No kidding.”
“This isn’t how I wanted it to go.”
“Everything is going to be messed up now. We’ll never have a choice.”
He lowered his voice. “Not that it matters at this point, Charlotte, but I made my choice a long time ago.”
I pressed my lips together, forcing a mountain of silence into the room. It made no sense for us to be tangled up like this. Better to use our heads. People were depending on it.
I had to find my own strength, or I’d never survive this.
When I did speak, several minutes had passed. I was calm. I had thought about what needed to be said and what it would do to Eren. I regretted that, because I understood by then that it would hurt him in some way, but again, I didn’t have a choice.
Neither did he. It was a momentary illusion, exactly like the one he’d tried to create when he’d proposed to me. As though we’d ever had a choice about any of this. “Eren. This isn’t real.”
He didn’t respond.
“None of it is real. We were forced to do this, and now it’s done. And there are other things we have to deal with right now. It’s just that the timing’s all wrong. Of course I care about you. I care so much that I have to—I have to—” the lights flickered, stronger this time, and I stopped talking.
He waved a hand. “Look, Charlotte. I actually do understand. I think you know that I love you. And I know what I saw. I know what’s happened between us in the past. But you’re right. We can’t deal with this right now.”
“The lights, Eren. They mean something. That’s what—”
“Yes!” He jumped up from the bed. His feet shuffled back, and he sat down again. I frowned as he continued. “I knew it! I knew you’d seen them.” He gave me a crooked grin, and I felt myself slipping a little further down the rabbit
hole. Focus, Char.
At that moment, the room went dark.
The lights sputtered, then popped on again.
I stared at Eren, but he didn’t seem to have noticed.
“Green. Bright green,” he said. His words lost their crispness, and his grin became sloppy. “Like yours, Charlotte. Just like—”
“Hang on! Did you see that?”
“See what?” He leaned back against a pillow, eyes unfocused.
“The lights just went out. Where’s your gun? I didn’t bring one. Wasn’t sure if they’d search me.” I threw open his wardrobe and tossed a giant pile of rumpled uniforms out onto the bed, then bent to open the wooden drawer at the foot. His pistol wasn’t there.
The lights went out again.
Thirty-three
By the time the lights were back on an instant later, I’d gone through half the drawers in the kitchen. I still couldn’t find a knife. Eren was still sitting on the bed like a frog in a pot about to boil. Happy. Peaceful. What was wrong with him?
No knives. No gun. I needed something else.
The door opened, and a hooded figure swept in. My lungs squeezed in, and I ducked behind the wardrobe, forcibly suppressing a scream.
“Char, you in here? Don’t shoot,” said the figure, pulling back his hood.
“Isaiah! What on earth are you doing here?” I fought back a deep desire to throw something at him. A fork, maybe, since I was pretty sure at this point that there were no knives in the kitchen.
“I’m here to rescue you.”
“Rescue me? Ise, I don’t need rescuing.”
At that moment, Eren slumped from the bed to the ground, unconscious, hitting the floor with all the finesse of a sack of apples. I rushed to his side and cradled his head in my lap.
I looked up at Isaiah, wide-eyed. “Okay. Maybe a little rescuing.”
Isaiah nodded and reached behind himself to lock the door. “Is he okay?”
The weight of Eren’s head pressed into my lap. It was heavier than I expected, and I felt the overwhelming urge to shield him with my body. Instead, I touched his cheeks with both hands. I had to make him safe. I had to wake him up.
I had to tell him a thousand things.
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