The driver twitched away from Weston’s furious questions. The man gestured at the throng of people blocking the road. “Governor Bentley is back, sir, and looks to be making an example in the City Circle. Probably the Monomi,” he added in an afterthought.
Weston’s breath seized in his lungs. “Follow me!” he snapped at his guards. He kicked the door and it whined open, the driver’s protests dying behind him as he jumped out. He pushed into the crowd, ducking and weaving as Andre had taught him once, long ago. Someone shifted up ahead, creating a window of opportunity that Weston took without hesitation.
He stumbled forward, and an Aerugan guard snapped up a hand to block him. Weston straightened, letting the golden bar on his jacket shine in the sun. The guard’s eyes widened, and he stepped back and bowed. Weston waved him off as he took in the scene.
A young man and a woman—presumably the boy’s mother—were bound and gagged on the cobblestone. Bentley stood with a dagger held to the lad’s throat. Zak knelt on the ground, a guard holding a blade to his neck. An older man, maybe Zak’s father, stood next to him, under similar guard. A small contingent of guards in Doldran red and gold were surrounded by what looked like a band of thugs. Jade, held back by two Aerugan guards with daggers, tips pointed to her chest, struggled. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Silence reigned for an eternal moment, broken only by the youth’s ragged breathing. The mother’s muffled crying.
Goosebumps broke out over Weston’s arms, and icy horror washed through him as Bentley’s words echoed off the tall buildings: “These Monomi will be an example.”
“No! Stop!” The words left Weston’s mouth before he had any idea of what he was doing. What was he doing? What was Bentley doing?
Bentley paused, the dagger slacking in his hand. “Prince Weston?”
Weston’s feet wouldn’t move. He dragged his attention away the hostages on the ground and stared at Jade, who shook like a leaf in the grips of the guards. “What the bleeding Void are you doing?”
Bentley’s chin lifted, and he straightened his coat with a smug grin. “I’m remedying a problem. The Monomi broke the treaty, and I’m reminding them of the consequences of disobeying a document of law.”
“And what are you doing to Jade?” Weston swallowed hard and layered steel in his words, lifting his chin in imitation of his father. “Release her. This instant.”
Bentley’s eyes narrowed as he regarded Weston, and Weston squared his shoulders in response. “Fine.” Bentley waved a hand without looking back at Jade. “Unhand her. But don’t release her guards.”
The daggers held against Jade returned to their sheaths as the men stepped back from her. She stumbled forward, and Bentley raised his hand again. “Any closer, and I will kill Zebediah and your friend this moment as well, girl.” A cruel grin stretched across Bentley’s face as he returned his attention to the woman and boy on the ground. “These two will get their punishment, regardless.”
“Stop this madness.” Weston couldn’t keep the slight tremor out of his voice. “The boy is not responsible for what adults have done.”
“No, you’re right.” Bentley nodded as he stroked his goatee. “But your father ordered me to take care of this problem, and I shall.” His voice dropped and he stepped closer to Weston. “And then I shall take care of the princess problem here. Just say the word. Do you want me to save her for you? I know you favored her once.”
Revulsion rocked Weston to his core. He had once harbored the idea of such things despite her wishes, but he wouldn’t dream of taking her against her will now. Andre had opened his eyes to the utter monstrosity of such a thing. “No.”
And his father had ordered Bentley to do this?
Bentley shrugged and twirled the dagger in his hand. “That makes things easier, actually.”
“Stand down.”
Bentley looked up. “Excuse me?”
Weston strove to calm his shaking hands and keep his voice steady. “I order you to release them.”
Weston could hear his own ragged breathing in the quiet, punctuated by the quiet sobbing of the two Monomi. He didn’t dare look away from Bentley and his knife. Didn’t dare look at Jade, where she stood so close, and yet so far. Didn’t dare look at the teenage boy whose frightened face reminded Weston of his own at that age—right before a beating.
Bentley’s eyes tightened. “You are not your father. A true leader knows when killing is necessary.” He pivoted on his heel, stalking toward the youth.
Weston yanked the steam pistol out of its holster, gripping it with trembling hands. “Stop!” His stomach churned, and his vision blackened at the edges. Please, stop.
“Allow me to show you what I mean.” Bentley passed the sobbing woman and yanked the boy’s hair back. He yelped in pain, his bound hands jerking against the bindings on his hands. The woman cried out against the gag, tears soaking the blindfold.
Bentley touched the knife to the teenager’s throat, looking at Weston. Bentley turned, looking over at Jade. “This is the price to be paid by all who broke the treaty, when there is no one to speak for them.” He braced a knee against the boy’s back and sawed the blade against his throat.
The boy’s shriek turned to a gargle almost instantly. Blood ran down Bentley’s dagger and hand, and he pulled them free. Gore sprayed on the woman.
Nausea pulled at Weston as the crowd spun around him. He collapsed on his knees, unable to look away. Black dots warped his vision.
Jade’s scream ripped through the haze in his mind. He tore his eyes away from the fallen body to see Jade rushing forward. Guards blocking Zebediah and Zak. Bentley, knife lifted to the weeping woman.
No.
Weston’s eyes narrowed. He raised the steam pistol with steady hands. Aimed through the haze. Breathed out. Pulled the trigger.
A spray of blood.
A smattering of gray and crimson.
Bentley’s body dropped.
Silence lasted a heartbeat before mayhem broke loose.
Weston’s hands tingled. He dropped the steam pistol.
Bentley’s guards pulled back as Monomi and Doldran citizens pushed against them.
Weston stared at the bloodied boy. A blonde woman dressed in black skidded to a halt by the bound woman. She ripped off the blindfold and gag. The freed woman gathered her dead son in her arms, soul-shattering sobs wracking her body as she curled over him.
There was no way to save the boy. I was too slow.
If only he hadn’t frozen. If only he’d gotten there sooner.
This was what his father had ordered?
His ears rang as he shook his head. He’d never be a ruler. He’d never risk turning into Everett. Bloodshed like this could never become normal.
The crowd jostled around him, but Weston didn’t move. Niles’s hand pressed into his back. His guards stood in a ring where he knelt, the backs of their legs providing him a small sanctuary from the mob. Unwilling, but unable to look away, Weston stared in the direction of Bentley’s body. Mercifully, he couldn’t see him, as townspeople ranted and raved against the corpse. Weston heaved.
What have I done?
Chapter Twelve
Jade
Zaborah sprinted past Jade, kicking a distracted guard’s groin, and slid on her knees before Zandra. Zebediah and Zak turned on their guards as chaos erupted between the citizens, the Monomi that had gathered, the Doldran guards, and the Aerugan guards.
Zak worked his way to Jade and gripped her wrist, hustling toward the palace. “We have to get out of here. Now.”
It took several moments before Jade’s brain kicked in enough to understand they were leaving. Zak kept his arm around Jade, and Samantha grabbed her free hand. The two of them propelled her toward the palace. Jade glanced over her shoulder.
Weston knelt, barely visible through the hedge of his guards, his face pale in the bright sunlight as he dry heaved. Bloody tears ran down Zandra’s face as she cradled her firstborn in her arms. Zebediah he
ld his massive arms around his daughter and grandson, lines of grief etched in his face. Tears poured down his craggy cheeks.
Jade turned away. Bitter sorrow clumped in her throat.
What have I done?
***
Jade hugged her pillow to her chest, eyes closed. The pillow gave comfort, but the color of it made her sick. Red only made her think of Zander. Of the red gown she wore at her father’s funeral. Two deaths striking too close to her heart.
Zander had died because of her. Because she wouldn’t step up as queen.
She could have saved his life, and she hadn’t.
“Each citizen needs to do his or her part to fulfill their role, or everyone suffers. Wait until you’re ready, but don’t let that be too long.”
She’d waited too long.
Zak had lost his nephew, Zane’s namesake, because of her.
Tears seeped from her eyes, and she buried her face in the soft squish of the pillow. Maybe she’d be lucky and it’d suffocate her. It was what she deserved at this point.
She’d kicked her mother and Garnet out of her room. Their tears only heaped coals on the guilt burning in Jade’s heart. But she let Krista stay. Krista’s grief didn’t add to Jade’s shame.
Krista leaned into Jade and pressed a fresh handkerchief against Jade’s hand. Jade sniffled and opened her fingers enough to accept it. Krista gently touched Jade’s shoulder.
Jade didn’t have the strength to kick out Krista. Zak was with his family right now, and Jade didn’t want to be alone.
“I have to do it,” Jade whispered.
Krista stopped rubbing Jade’s back. “What?”
Jade pushed herself upright and shoved her hair out of her face. “I need to do it. I need to become queen.” She took in a ragged breath and coughed to get the phlegm out of her throat. “My people need me. I can’t have more deaths like this on my hands.”
Krista’s hand pressed into Jade’s spine. “No. Zander’s death is not on your hands.” Her voice heated. “His death is on Bentley’s hands.”
“Bentley. Who is now dead.”
Krista nodded. “As much as I don’t like that princely prick Weston, he did something right.”
Jade tucked herself into a ball and let herself fall against Krista. Krista leaned against her. Jade rested her chin against her knees, staring blankly across the spacious sleeping quarters of her room. “I need to protect the Monomi. I won’t let anyone else die because of me.”
She heard the door to the sitting room attached to her quarters open and close, and she closed her eyes. Who would it be? Her mother? Garnet? Footsteps paused at the doorway of her bedroom, then crossed in front of her, and metal tapped against wood as someone sat in the lone chair.
Jade cracked her eyes open, then widened them. Zak. He wore the traditional white clothes of a Monomi in mourning, but kept his black belts and sword holster. He leaned forward in the chair, elbows braced against his knees, fingers knit, eyes rimmed in red.
Words failed her at the sight of his naked sorrow. What could she say? Did he blame her? If he never wanted to see her again, she’d understand.
Krista broke the silence, her tone soft. “How did Bentley get them?”
Jade’s heart ached as she internally echoed the question. And where were Zander’s siblings? How were they spared this tragedy?
Zak rubbed at his forehead. “They were at the market together. Zandra was teaching him how to tail people. Zedd was with my mother, the other two at their jobs.” He dropped his hands, and a bitter smile crossed his lips. “Apparently Bentley was right, and Zander did take out two of his men, and she took out two of his goons when they jumped them. But Bentley’s men outnumbered them, and once they subdued Zander, she had to give up.” His head dropped, and his hair covered his eyes. “We’ll have his funeral tomorrow.”
Bile rose in Jade’s throat, and she swallowed hard. Another funeral. Author, did she hate funerals. She squeezed her hands together to keep them from shaking. “Weston saved Zandra,” she said, her voice small. “Why was he even there?”
Zak shook his head. “I have no idea. But I’d say it’s safe to bet he’ll show up here sometime soon.”
The image of Zander’s lifeless, bloodied body blurred with the memory of Zak’s limp form, blood streaming from lashes on his back. Nausea churned in Jade’s stomach, and she held her hand up to her mouth as she tried to take shallow breaths. “I don’t know if I could even look at him right now.”
Zak stood, everything in his posture screaming weariness—from the slant of his shoulders to his slow steps and down-turned head. He walked over to Jade, stopping only when his boots bumped into hers. He knelt there, and tugged her hands into his, pressing them all together. “We’ll deal with him when it comes to it. For now, I’m staying with you two.”
Tears spilled down Jade’s cheeks, and Zak reached up, wiping them away. He cleared his throat as he looked up at her. “Some of Bentley’s guards got away, and we don’t know if they’ll be looking to finish what he started, or if they have orders against you.” His ghost of a grin didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re stuck with me by day and Zaborah by night. No matter what happens, we’re with you.”
Guilt wracked Jade. He just lost his nephew, and he was comforting her? No. She had to be protecting him. She hiccupped on her sob. It was all too clear now. She needed power. And the only way for her to have the power to protect those she loved, would be if she was queen.
There was no better way to honor Zander.
Chapter Thirteen
Weston
Weston stared at the glossy black Doldran palace gates as if they were the doors to shehalla. The setting sun glinted off them, and it doused the Doldran palace in a blood-red hue. He didn’t know what would happen once he entered. Would Jade hear him out? Turn him away? His stomach roiled. She’d seen him kill Bentley. He must disgust her even more than before.
A Doldran guard walked over, hand on his hilt. His hard eyes took in Weston, his gaze resting on the Aerugan crest on Weston’s suit jacket. “I assume you want to go in?”
Weston nodded, his mouth as dry as the Arid Plains in summer. “Please. I—I wish to speak to the princess.”
The guard looked at him again, mute. His gaze flicked over Niles, who stood behind Weston. “Your guard?”
Weston tilted his head in a small nod.
The guard tapped on his hilt before nodding once.
An attendant escorted Weston and Niles to a sitting room, in which a guard, dressed in white, stood at the door. Weston left Niles at the door as well and wandered through the room, restless. What should he be doing? Sitting? Standing? He rubbed a hand against his stinging eyes.
He’d been too late.
An innocent youth was dead because of his inaction.
And then he’d killed a man.
Now he had to talk to the one woman in the world who probably hated him more than anything.
But he had to save her. Protect her.
How would she see him now?
He’d done so much, and she knew of most of his exploits.
And now Weston had more than just a lecherous lifestyle on his hands. He had blood on them. Bentley’s blood. The boy’s blood.
Weston wiped his hands on his pant legs. He’d washed up on the airship he’d arrived on, but he could still feel the imagined blood splatters of Bentley. The remembrance of Zak’s.
His hands shook. He braced them against the table as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He needed Andre even more than ever.
The door pushed open without a knock, and Weston whirled around.
He almost didn’t recognize Zak, as he’d never seen the Monomi wear anything other than black or other deep shades of the night. The white would have been blinding if it wasn’t broken up by Zak’s black belts. Zak’s eyes met Weston’s, and a glimmer of fear shuddered down Weston’s spine at the Monomi’s blank expression.
Zak turned away, offering his hand to Jade, who walk
ed in with quiet, hesitant steps. She passed the conference table and sat on one of two couches turned in toward a squat drinking table. Her gaze didn’t lift off the gleaming wood and crystalline sculpture.
Weston sat across from them. He examined the way Jade held herself, pulling in one shoulder close, stiff. He bit his lip, uncertain if he could ask the question given all that had just happened, but concern won out. “A-are you feeling ill, Jade?”
Jade’s eye twitched, and she started to hunch over before hissing slightly and stretching her shoulders back. “I’m still healing.”
Healing? Weston frowned. “From what?”
Jade shot Zak a look, and Zak sighed. He explained in a tired, hollow voice about the traitor aboard the Sapphire, and the battle before, and during the keystone mission that claimed Captain Slate’s life. Weston didn’t know what to say when Zak called Slate her uncle, and she corrected him softly, “Father. My father is Slate Stohner.”
Weston’s heart stirred at the brokenness in her face. She’d lost so much in such a short time. Guilt jabbed in his gut. From what he had gathered, the Monomi kid and woman had been Bentley’s way of trying to both put the Monomi in their place, and goading Jade to return to Aerugo with him. And here he was now, hoping to convince her of the same.
Zak stirred and stood, his jaw clenching as he bowed over the table. “Thank you for defending my sister today.”
Shock glued Weston’s tongue to the roof of his mouth as Zak sat down again. He stared at Jade and Zak, at Zak’s strange white clothing, and at Jade’s swollen eyes.
“That was your sister?” Weston’s fingers dug into his knees as his mind whirred the pieces together. “Then—” His stomach clenched. Would his family ever stop hurting this family? Weston stared at the veins throbbing in the backs of his hands. “I’m sorry ...that I didn’t save your nephew in time.” He closed his eyes and swallowed against the nausea that rolled up through him. “I’m sorry I hesitated.”
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