“You . . . you look . . .” I was at a loss, so I stole a line from Empress Filis. “You look incredible.”
She blushed, which only made the transformation seem all the more dramatic. “I feel like one of the girls from the stories Floss used to tell us when we were little. The ones about a girl who discovers she’s a princess.”
I glanced at Brook, whose eyes widened.
“Sometimes fairy tales comes true,” a thick voice whispered at my ear.
My pulse stuttered as I turned to find Niko standing there. Niko, whom I’d dreamed about. Niko who’d almost kissed me the night before.
“I don’t believe in fairy tales,” I answered wryly just as a bell rang, signaling that breakfast was served.
I wasn’t allowed to sit with Brook and Aron and Avonlea. The queens left their ambassadors and guards so they could dine alone, at a private table.
It was just the seven of us then: Queen Neva, Empress Filis, Queen Hestia, Queen Langdon, Empress Thea, Queen Elena, and myself.
I’d never been more uncomfortable in my entire life and I approached the table on unsteady legs.
Neva sat at the head of the table with Filis at the other end. I was placed directly between Hestia, who had her dog on her lap, and Langdon, who was by far the eldest of all the queens in attendance. Quite possibly the oldest queen alive, although that could easily have been a fact made up entirely in my head.
Let me have one of them, Sabara’s voice rang through my head.
I faltered, my feet failing me.
What are you saying? I hated the way my heart pounded, like a sledgehammer against my ribs.
You can be free of me, Charlaina. I could take one of them instead. They simply have to say the words.
She didn’t have to explain. I understood what she meant. They were royals, all of them. Any one of them could host Sabara’s Essence. Any one of them could give me the freedom I craved.
I shook my head, not caring that everyone in the room was watching me at that moment. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t force Sabara onto another person just because I didn’t want her. I couldn’t take away their life, their free will, just to save myself.
Could I?
Of course not, I argued with myself. What kind of person—what kind of monster—would I be then? I’d be no better than she is.
I exhaled and straightened my shoulders, giving Sabara my silent answer.
Neva lifted a glittering crystal goblet, a smile on her lips. “To Charliana, queen of Ludania,” she said as I slid into my seat. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you. I, for one, can’t wait to get to know you better.”
Across from me, Elena raised her glass, eagerly showing her support as well. “We’ve waited so long to have you here. Here’s to you, our newest sister.”
Empress Thea, who sat next to Elena, watched me through lowered lids. She reached for her own glass and lifted it, but only barely. “Yes, dear. I can’t wait to hear more about . . . what you can do.”
I paused then, taken aback. I couldn’t help wondering if I’d misunderstood the implication behind her words. Had she just asked me about my ability?
I smiled slowly, unsure how, exactly, to respond. “Thank you. It’s a pleasure being here.” I answered. I hated this feeling of being tested by these women, but I got the sense that was exactly what was happening.
Queens don’t discuss their powers, Xander’s words rang in my head. He’d been clear and unwavering in that one matter: I was not to discuss what I could do. I was not to tell anyone—ever—that I could understand what was being said around me.
This was still a secret I was meant to keep close.
Empress Filis grinned from her end of the table, and I tried to settle my beating heart as I held my smile, now frozen to my lips. “Ignore Thea. She was born prying.”
Thea shot the other empress a glare, but it wasn’t her I was listening to now.
It was Sabara I heard.
Thea may be queen, but her power is useless. She only wants to know if you can be useful to her.
I reached for my water, hoping no one could see how badly my hand trembled.
The summit was turning out to be nothing at all like I’d expected it to be—a rigorous schedule of meetings and speeches and negotiations, discussions of how to strengthen our country’s economies or trade or military positions. Instead it was unhurried and taut with civility, and seemed to achieve nothing of importance.
There was talk of the night’s ice storms, which had been almost blindingly beautiful to watch, and of the absence of Queen Vespaire—who’d sent Niko in her absence. Already, the palace was bustling as decorations and food were being delivered and displayed for a ball that was being held that evening.
“In honor of you, dear,” Neva explained, her smile cool, her eyes determined.
“Me?”
“To introduce you, of course. And it will be the grandest introduction this summit has ever seen.”
Suddenly it was all too much for me. The frivolity of it. The idea of coming all this way just to attend a party seemed ludicrous, when what I really wanted was to convince the other leaders to extend their technologies, like communication and power resources, to Ludania. I was here to barter, to buy, and to beg if necessary, for the good of my people.
Not to dance. Not to eat and entertain and pretend that those in the Scablands didn’t suffer, that the work camps didn’t exist. Or that half the Capitol hadn’t been razed by a new breed of rebels.
What the hell was I doing here?
I stood abruptly, throwing my napkin down on the table.
The leaders of six nations stared back at me in surprise.
Sit, warned a harsh voice that no one else could hear. And when I didn’t immediately obey, she said it again. . . . This time more gently. Charlaina, don’t be foolish. You may not understand the ways of politics, but you need these women. Sit down. Be patient.
“Is everything not to your liking, Charlaina?” It was Neva who’d asked the question, and I glanced down at my plate, filled with fresh fruits and sliced meats. There were pastries and two kinds of poached eggs, one that looked miniature and the other like it had been stolen from the nest of some sort of monster bird.
My chest tightened.
“It—it’s fine.” I wavered, struggling against Sabara’s words. I did need them, I couldn’t deny the truth in that.
How? Was my silent plea back to her, infused with more hope than I’d meant as I wondered if she could even hear me. I didn’t want Sabara’s help. Or rather, I didn’t want to want her help.
But, now, standing indecisively at a table surrounded by women who I didn’t understand, who I didn’t know how to deal with, I realized I couldn’t do this on my own.
At first there was nothing. The kind of void that resonates, buzzing until my head was filled with its nothingness.
I opened my mouth, trying to decide whether I should stay or go, wanting them to stop watching me, as they waited for me to say something. And then I heard her. Quietly at first. Just a whisper of sound that I almost missed, but growing louder, more assured.
I’ll show you, she promised. I’ll help you, if you help me.
I blinked, lowering myself uncertainly into my chair once more.
“Glad we didn’t chase you off, Ludania,” Hestia said, a wicked smile lifting her lips.
I nodded, smoothing my rumpled napkin over my lap as conversation started again.
I won’t give any of them to you, I told Sabara. I won’t let you leave me. Saying those words, even silently, felt final and filled me with anguish.
That’s not what I want, she answered.
Then what? I asked, keeping my eyes on my plate. What can I possibly give you?
Heat bloomed up my neck and flooded my cheeks, making me blush so hard I had no doubt the reaction wasn’t mine.
You know, her voice rasped, coming from right inside my ear now.
I did know. As much as I wanted to deny it, I k
new what Sabara wanted more than anything else in the world.
She wanted him.
She wanted Niko Bartolo.
I continued to think about what Sabara had asked of me, even as I bundled in as many layers as I could.
I felt as if I’d struck a bargain with a demon. As if I’d damned myself to a lifetime of captivity. And basically I had. By not agreeing to subject Sabara on one of the other royals, I was acknowledging that I was stuck with her.
My purpose had become clear: to keep Sabara imprisoned within me.
The only hope I had of easing my burden was to come to terms with her, to learn to live—if at all possible—in accord.
I ignored the strange looks Zafir cast my way as I dressed, avoiding his questions about where I was going until the last possible moment. When I finally answered him, I was vague, saying only “Out” and hoping he didn’t press me for more.
That had been hoping for too much, of course.
“Out where?” he asked. Then, “Why?”
I smiled at him, trying to look cheerful. I even shrugged nonchalantly. A nice touch, if I did say so myself. “I thought it might be nice to stretch my legs.”
Zafir’s brows shot up. “Really? You want to go . . . for a walk? Out there? In the cold?”
I couldn’t blame him for being skeptical, considering how I’d complained on the ferry. How I’d huddled as far into my heavy cloak as possible and, still, my teeth had chattered so loudly I’d drawn attention from the other passengers. Cold and I weren’t exactly on the best of terms.
But I’d heard Niko was out there, in that ice and snow, and I had questions for him. Ones that couldn’t wait.
“Yes,” I did my best to sound chipper. “The brisk air might do us some good.”
There was no point pretending Zafir wasn’t coming too. There was no chance I’d lose him and be able to wander the grounds on my own.
Zafir’s lips pursed, a sign that he wasn’t buying my explanation. But he wasn’t arguing, either. He nodded to the two men stationed at the entrance, and they began the arduous task of turning the cranks that would open the immense doors.
Even the small space required to let us pass took several long minutes as the gears shifted and ground together. I ignored the suspicious glances shot my way by my guard.
Outside, the “brisk” air felt like a punch in the gut, and barbs of ice formed in my bloodstream, needling and stabbing every surface of my body from the inside out. Even the tiny hairs inside my nose felt as if they’d turned to ice and might break off should they shift the wrong way.
My chest seized and I had to will myself to keep breathing. My lungs felt powerless against the blast.
I raised my eyes skyward, hoping the rising sun might at least lessen the savage chill.
Walk! A voice insisted, and this time it was my own and not Sabara’s.
I took one step and then another, my boots crunching through the snow. My footprints weren’t the only ones out there. Several sets of tracks led away from the palace entrance.
I ignored the spasms of pain that came with each shallow breath I took, and I drew the warm coat closer around me. Neva’s clothing was much better suited for the climate, and I adjusted fairly quickly. My fingers were tucked inside the fur-lined gloves and my head was concealed by a hat that protected my forehead and most of my cheeks. I tugged the scarf up so it covered my mouth.
Zafir remained silent, staying behind me.
I moved quickly, making my way down the most traveled trail of prints in the ice-crusted snow. I stopped in front of a large white building that had smoke billowing from several chimneys in its roof. Leaning forward, I brushed at the sparkling crystals that covered its every surface, scraping it away with my glove and revealing the black stones beneath.
I had no idea where I was, or if I was even allowed to be there.
Inside the tall walls, I heard laughter and voices, loud and riotous, and I assumed I’d reached the gatehouse—where Brook wanted to be. The smell of ale and burnt meats reached all the way to the entrance, and I staggered backward, not sure if it was a good idea for me to be there at all.
Even if Niko was inside.
I turned away, ignoring Zafir’s curious scrutiny.
Ahead, I saw a wonderland of topiaries and statues and fountains, all glittering and covered in that same layer of frost. Everything was white. Ghostly and beautiful, beckoning me.
He’s there, Sabara told me. And I doubted she was wrong. She’d been here before. She knew this place.
She knew Niko.
When I found him, standing silently beside a patch of brilliantly flowering shrubs—brilliant red blossoms that stood out sharply against the frozen landscape, as if defying nature by their very presence—I knew he’d been waiting for me.
He looked up, but said nothing.
I turned to Zafir, silently telling him to wait.
My boots crunched loudly through the snow, the only sound now. Even the birds were still.
I stopped before Niko, and we stayed like that for too long. Quiet. Just our breath, visible puffs between us, to fill the void.
A part of me wanted to flee, knowing that I was letting her win just by being here. The other part of me couldn’t. I felt as frozen as one of the statues.
All of me wondered what was about to happen.
He moved then, reaching for my gloved hands and clutching them in his. I watched silently, not caring that Zafir could see us, that he was watching my every move.
“I’ve waited so long,” Niko said on a crystalline puff, his eyes holding mine as he leaned toward me. “And I would’ve waited forever.”
I tipped up on my toes then, everything inside me straining to be near him. Needing to feel him.
A sound shattered the air, first one ear-splitting boom, followed immediately by another.
That was when I heard him—Zafir—screaming my name, “Charlie!” just as he collided with me, shoving me into a soft mound of snow.
I blinked so many times I felt like I was having some sort of seizure or fit. For the first few moments it was the snow that blinded me. And then it was something black and oily—something close to rage—as Sabara erupted within me, furious at being interrupted just as she was about to get her way.
Sick shame choked me as I remembered what I’d been so close to doing for the second time. I would have let Sabara take control.
Max’s face appeared behind my eyes as I blinked again, rubbing away the ice and trying to blot out my humiliation. How could I?
“Your Majesty? Are you hurt?” Zafir asked as he dragged me up, curling his entire body around mine. He hauled me, clutching me like a rag doll, toward a low wall near the edge of the garden.
I tried to focus, but the world tilted sideways. “Hurt? Why would I be hurt?” I noticed the chaos then. The teeming clots of bodies running toward us, filling the space around us. The barking shouts. Soldiers formed around us like a barricade. “Wh-what happened?” I thought of the sound, like an explosion of thunder, and remembered what Brook had said last night: There’s never thunder.
“Someone tried to shoot you.” Zafir answered, scanning the
perimeter and nodding to Brooklynn as she raced through
the snow in our direction. “The first two missed by a mile. The third one . . .” He glared at the splintered tree trunk I’d been standing in front of. If Zafir hadn’t tackled me, I wouldn’t be here now.
I didn’t even remember hearing a third shot. But I had heard Zafir. “You called me Charlie,” I told him, brushing snow from my face.
“I did no such thing,” he denied.
I grinned, my concentration shifting elsewhere as I searched for Niko. “You did. I heard you.”
I found Niko, standing just inches from the tree, exactly where he’d been when I’d nearly let him kiss me. He stared back at me, concern etched in every feature of his face.
A small part of me, a part of me I didn’t want to listen to, couldn’t he
lp but wonder if he might have some hand in all this.
But Sabara heard me.
He would never hurt me, she countered.
She wasn’t lying, I knew. He loved her. I held that truth somewhere that even I couldn’t reach. And even though I didn’t understand it—didn’t understand him—I knew it in a way that made it more real than anything I could hold in my hands.
Sabara settled down as she sensed my acceptance, and a part of me hated that she could read me so easily.
“What were you thinking, coming out here without an escort?” Brook scolded as she knelt beside me.
“I am her escort.” Zafir’s voice boomed from above us.
“Yeah, well, nice job, escort. How ’bout next time we try not to get her shot?” She reached beneath my shoulder and pulled me up, none too gently. “C’mon, Chuck,” she jeered, using the nickname she knew I hated. “Let’s get you someplace safe before Round Two starts.” She jerked her head around to face Niko then. “You,” she shouted. “Meet us inside, I have some questions for you.”
Just as we were disappearing beyond the garden’s walls, she bellowed to the soldiers who were still behind her. “And someone better find the bastard responsible for this mess!”
Brook was a champion pacer.
I’d never seen anyone pace and mutter, and then pace some more with so much vigor.
I paced too, but less enthusiastically, stopping to warm my hands, my feet, and my face in front of the fire. I was still shivering, even after nearly an hour of being indoors.
Brook stopped only when Avonlea and Aron came into the enormous library.
The library of Vannova was the most incredible place I’d ever seen. Like any library, there were books. But unlike other libraries I’d been in, this collection was vast, seemingly unending. Haphazardly they lined shelves in stacks and double rows that reached all the way to the ceiling and covered every square inch of wall, almost without order or reason.
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