Titus will come to the meeting willingly, he will tell Congress he can’t lead anymore, and he will announce me as the new chief. A few documents will be signed, and the politicians will witness it. And if I can get Congress on my side, according to Krin and Walker, then getting the rest of the Patricians’ support should be no problem. Once I take the leadership, I’ll have the authority to distribute the antitoxin, and everything will flow smoothly from there.
I just hope Titus complies. Because even if he doesn’t, and even if he is shot in the head, those two things alone will make Congress and the Patricians turn against me. And I desperately need the heart of Ky on my side.
I stare at the politicians as they talk among themselves. Most of them are older. All but Forest were here when Father was chief. Titus kept Congress as it was and added Forest.
Forest, his right-hand man and best friend.
Forest, who he shot in the head without a second thought.
Though there are plenty of women politicians like Krin and Olivia Doss, no women are a part of Congress. That fact alone makes me feel small and out of place.
I look around the table at the familiar faces. Ten men make up Congress. Thomas Turner—Rain’s and Forests’s father—sits at the far end of the table. He leans back in his chair and stares blankly at the table. Forest’s death hit him hard, though he has no idea it was Titus who killed him. I guess that’s leverage I could use if Titus turns against me in this meeting.
Across the table from me is Congressman Sanchez. His dark hair is specked with gray, his glasses thick, his waist robust. He whispers something to an even older man beside him, with contrasting white hair and skin that almost looks pink. Congressman Schuster. All these old men cast glances at me, clearly wondering why I’m still here since they assume Titus is resuming his duties.
It’s the dress. This shoddy bright red, bold dress. This dress accentuates the fact that I’m a woman and that I cannot lead in their eyes. I’ve never liked dresses. I never liked how they made me feel exposed and confined me from fighting efficiently. Titus made me dress up every day that I played his game of pretending to be Ember. I was wearing a dress the day Ember kidnapped me.
I know Krin was only trying to help by suggesting I wear a dress. Krin loves to dress up in elaborate gowns. But this isn’t me. I silently make the final decision that if this meeting is successful, I’ll never wear a dress again. I will be chief, and will be able to wear whatever the shoddy rot I want.
Finally, the doors open and Titus strides in. He has his usual brilliant smile plastered on his arrogant face, and fear slithers up my spine. He looks at me, his eyes mocking, and I know.
I know he’s not going to comply.
Walker takes his place on my right, and Mcallister stands along the wall behind Titus, his gun in its holster, locked and loaded.
I’m not sure I’m ready for Titus to be killed: I still don’t know where Gideon is.
“Good morning, gentlemen.” Titus nods at the council as he takes his seat. They all mumble, “Good morning.”
“So glad you’re feeling better,” Sanchez says. “The country continued running smoothly, but honestly, Ky is lost without its captain at the helm.”
Titus snorts, then casts a glance at me, puckers his lip out in false pity. I grit my teeth. His pity-lip disappears in a knowing grin, and he looks back at the council.
Holy rot, this is it. He knows the control he has over me. He knows he can tell these jackals the truth, and he knows I’m not going to allow Mcallister to kill him because Titus is the only person in this country who knows where Gideon is.
Holy rot.
I should have known he would take his chances.
“Well, men. Today is the day you’ve all been waiting for.” They all lean forward in their chairs. I squeeze my hands into fists, blink back my tears, try to seriously consider whether to let Mcallister shoot Titus or not. But if not, Titus will only lock me up again and never tell me where Gideon is, anyway.
I need to let him go.
“Today, is the day we lose the Whitcomb who is completely unqualified to lead—”
Mcallister places his hand on his gun and slowly begins drawing it out. I hold my breath, close my eyes, brace myself for the deafening gunshot.
“And raise another Whitcomb in his place.”
Wait, what? I open my eyes and stare at him in shock. The council begins stirring, questions mumbled, as they try to get what Titus is saying out of each other without rudely interrupting their chief. Titus grins at me before looking back at the council.
“I am officially handing the reins of leadership to Aurora.”
The mumbles rise to groans of protest, but Titus lifts a hand to silence them.
“I had a mental break down five days ago,” he lies, then shrugs. “For five days, anxiety and depression weighed me down to the point that I wanted to end my life. And where would this country be if I did so? I’m incompetent. The reality of our country’s struggles, mixed in with the constant threat of the Resurgence hanging over our heads is too much for me to handle, and I refuse to do it. So I am handing the reins of leadership to the next person in line to take it.” He looks at me, and I don’t know whether to cry in relief or build stronger walls, because if Titus is being this compliant, then what terrible plans does he have to get back at me later?
“Sister?” he asks. “Would you be willing to lead this country as the official chief?”
Those were the words I was expecting. This was the plan we had made. Yet, I can’t knock the shocked breath out of my lungs.
He lifts a brow expectantly. “That is,” he continues. “If you think you can handle it…”
I blink, then nod. “Y-yes. Of course. I would love to.”
His grin returns. “Excellent. Mcallister, please bring forward the necessary paperwork.”
Mcallister releases the gun in its holster, then takes the paperwork from Walker and places it in front of Titus. His eyes are bright when his gaze meets mine. I don’t think he was any more excited about killing Titus than I was, honestly.
Titus begins signing, and the entire council blows up with concerns.
“You won’t even give us a vote?”
“She’s unqualified to lead!”
“This country is going to sink without you.”
“You’re putting us beneath the leadership of a woman?”
I flinch. Funny, how my being a girl is a bigger issue than my being sixteen. Our country acts all progressive, like leaving naïve things such as religion behind has made us suddenly modern, but they still have a problem with a woman as a leader.
Finally Thomas Turner manages to calm the room down while Titus continues signing papers, literally ignoring the cries of his people. He finishes signing, then hands the stack to me. Still shocked, I pull the papers back and begin signing while listening to the uncertainty around me.
“Titus,” Thomas says, his voice ever diplomatic. “This decision comes as a shock to us all, honestly. You’ve given us no preparation, and traditionally, this sort of decision requires up to six months to implicate.”
“Yes?” Titus says. “But I’m the chief, and I can do whatever I want. That is, until Rory finishes signing the papers. Then she’s in charge.”
“Understood.” Thomas nods. “But, can you at least enlighten us on why you came to this decision?”
The knots in my stomach tighten. Is he going to tell them the truth—that he was forced at gun point? Has he been compliant thus far, only to reveal the truth when his people asked for his reasons? I start signing the papers faster, hoping Titus won’t turn on me now. Once these papers are signed, it’s a done deal and nothing he can say will be able to change the fact that I am the new chief.
“I’ll tell you everything,” Titus says, leaning back in his chair. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mcallister’s hand slowly lift to his gun. I shove the paper aside and quickly sign the next.
“When we attacked Louisville,” Titus is saying, “We were able to take down a couple busses of Resurgencies. But a good thirty people still got away. They headed to the Indy Tribe, and, as we all know, the Indy Tribe does not agree with my leading tactics. They’ve been gracious enough to keep their noses out of our business thus far, but I’m afraid that when they find out what went down in Louisville, they will want to put a stop to me, to my line, to my leadership, and to Ky.” He spreads his hands and offers a tired smile. “I’m done. The Resurgence was painful enough to deal with. I don’t really want to deal with a country that is larger and much more advanced than us. I don’t want to lead a war against Indy.”
“And you’ll let this wench lead us into battle?” Schuster says.
Well. I know the first person I’m eliminating from this council.
Titus's smile vanishes. “This wench is my sister and your future chief. She’s been in the mansion with me all along, studying every day for this role, learning from one of our country’s best mentors and politicians, Krin Turner.”
Whispers of surprise ripple through the crowd, and some of the men turn to look at Thomas, whose face has reddened to a shade of crimson. I hope Krin doesn’t get too much grief for this very big secret. And if she does, Thomas will answer to me. Although, Krin has always been able to hold her own and has taught me to do the same. I’m not nearly as courageous as her.
“Aurora’s leadership will stall the inevitable war for awhile,” Titus is saying, “because she sided with the Resurgence and they have reason to believe she might be working with them. Trust me when I say, they will give her the chance they would have never given me.” His words shock me even more. That he believes in me. That he seems to almost care for his country enough to willingly comply with my leadership. It’s baffling. It’s a side of Titus I haven’t seen since Father passed away. It’s also probably a show to save his shoddy life. He looks at the others. “Anyone who does not want to work below Chief Aurora is welcome to walk out those doors right now.” He gestures dramatically to the exit. No one makes a move.
I sign the last paper, relieved that the deed is done, terrified of what Congress is going to do to me. I look at Sanchez and Schuster, but they’re staring at the table, like the rest of the council. Except Thomas Turner. He leans back and drags his hand across his jaw the way I’ve seen Forest do so many times, and my heart squeezes. He pins me with those blue eyes. “My son respected you,” he says. “I would even go so far as to say he loved you.”
The heat of shame creeps up my neck. It’s because of me Forest died. He laid his life down for me. As did Ember.
“I accept your leadership,” Turner says. “Just tell me one thing, please, for a father’s ease of mind. I know Rain was working with the Resurgence, and deserves to die on the Rebels Circle.” He looks down, and I’m surprised by the emotion in his eyes. The way Krin talked about him made him seem coldhearted and careless, but now I realize he did care for his sons. And he thinks he lost both of them in one week. “Where is Rain now? May I—may I have one more word with him…before his execution?”
I swallow the lump in my throat, my heart aching for a man I never had any respect for. “He’s not going to be executed. I have reason to believe the Resurgence only wants to help Ky, not burn it down.”
A few men chuckle in disbelief.
“Rain is our only key to the Resurgence,” I continue. “And the Resurgence is our key to Indy Tribe. If we want to keep our peace with them, then I will keep Rain alive.”
Turner’s lips tip up in a diplomatic smile, but also relief. Those are my obvious reasons for keeping Rain alive. But another deeper reason is, I couldn’t take another son from the woman who was like a mother to me.
“Unfortunately,” I continue. “Rain must stay locked up because he is reckless.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Turner says, his voice thick. “That boy doesn’t think before he acts, and for his actions he should stay locked away until he submits to your rule.”
Glad we agree on one thing.
After another hour of questions and Titus constantly defending me and validating my authority and me wondering when, exactly, he’s going to slip the rug from beneath my feet, the meeting ends, and Congress members file out, some appearing enthusiastic about this new change, but most looking like this country is going to hell in a hand basket. Titus, Walker, Mcallister, and I are the only ones left.
I look at Walker and Mcallister. “Can you guys wait outside the door for a moment?”
They nod and step out, closing the door behind them. They’re still close enough to hear me scream if Titus comes at me.
I turn to look at Titus, unsure. Titus and I used to be close before Father passed away. I confided in him; he confided in me. We laughed together. But since he became chief, that all went away, and I’m not sure who this Titus is now. If he’s the carefree boy I grew up with or the controlling man who ruined my life.
“Thank you,” I finally manage to say. “For being so compliant.”
He stares at me, then laughs. “Thank you.”
I jerk my head back in shock. “What?”
“You’ve freed me of a job I never wanted.”
I narrow my eyes. “You loved being chief. You couldn’t stop talking about how wonderful it was.”
He lifts up a finger. “I loved the control of being chief. But all the problems of this pathetic country? They seriously ruined the job for me. All the complaints from needy Patricians were almost too much. And I was being honest about the Indy Tribe. I am so tired of dealing with shoddy rebels.”
“Then why didn’t you hand the leadership over to me sooner?”
“Because it would crush you. It will crush you, Rory.” He laughs and shakes his head. “You have no idea what you’re getting into. You think it’s going to be easy to free the country of mind compulsion? How do you think the Patricians will feel about your distribution of their food among Proletariats? How do you think the Proletariats will feel when they realize you and your family have been manipulating them their whole lives? And just wait, Rory.” He’s smiling so big now, his eyes like emeralds flashing in the sunlight. “Just wait until you see the laundry list of problems you’re going to want to fix. You think I’m cruel, but cruelty is the only way to keep things functioning smoothly. There are going to be issues you’ll want to fix, and in fixing them, you’ll create ten more problems.” He steps closer, searches my eyes with the hunger of an insatiable spectator. “You’re going to fail so miserably, Rory, that you’ll wish you were back in the sanctuary of your little room where nobody even knew your name.”
CHAPTER FIVE
AURORA
Mcallister and Walker blindfold Titus and take him back to his quarters in the basement. I head to the chief’s office on the second floor, Titus’s words still echoing in my mind. The leadership will crush you. You’re going to fail so miserably.
I’ve never hoped Titus was more wrong than he is now.
But after finishing some paperwork in my office—after the reality of my new position begins taking root—the fear from his words dims, and a new freedom takes its place. A strange, unfamiliar feeling—like happiness building upon itself ten times over—bubbles up, threatening to make me explode. I leap out of my chair, cover my mouth to stop the scream of joy from escaping and alarming the guards. I need to walk, to release some of this excited energy. Opening the doors, I leap down the stairs and head outside. The sun is shining, smiling down at me for this new day, this new life. Birds sing their congratulations in a nearby tree. A gentle breeze rustles the palm branches and fills up my lungs.
Breathe it all in.
Closing my eyes, I soak in the warmth of the sun. Drink in the air. Release all lingering negative thoughts and energies and allow hope to fill me up. Freedom. It’s in my hands. I can do what I want, when I want. I’m free. I’m free! I never thought freedom could taste this good.
I op
en my eyes and head for the mansion so I can bask in the beauty of this moment in the privacy of my new bedroom—but I stop at the door. Why trap myself within the mansion walls that have held me captive for sixteen years? I can do what I want.
I step back, turn, and jog to the royal gardens. Another gush of wind urges me forward until I’m sprinting, racing, bolting. I feel like a caged bird that finally has the freedom to spread its wings. I run and run and run and fill my lungs with wonderful oxygen and fill my mind with beautiful thoughts. When I reach the grassy pathway, I kick off my shoes and race through the gardens, through carefully tended flowers, beneath the shade of the palms.
Funny how Titus took so much care of his gardens, but did little help the rest of Ky. The Royal Garden was Grandmother’s passion, Titus told me once. She took what was already there and elaborated, but she never allowed access to the public. It’s been shut off to the people since. Only Titus and the host of gardeners and the occasional Defender were allowed here. But he never let me set foot in it.
The only time he would allow me out of my room was once a week, on Sunday evenings, in the privacy of his tiny patio. He never wanted to risk anyone seeing me. He knew there were Resurgence spies, and he was afraid Walker would see me and try to kidnap me. I thought Jonah Walker was dangerous at the time. I gladly agreed to stay cooped up in my room, so I could stay protected from those who wanted to kill me.
But apparently they only wanted to help me.
Walker wouldn’t let anyone lay a finger on me. He’s more trustworthy than Titus ever was. He’s safer than Father. While I had a mentor and mother figure in Krin, Walker is the guardian I wish I’d had my whole life. He makes me wonder what Mother was like, since they were siblings. I used to imagine Mother much like Father: careless, proud, selfish. But I’m beginning to realize she was more like a female version of Walker: willing to give up her life to save her people.
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