World Devoted

by Emily Albert

  After a moment Marco said, “It is despicable. All of it. You don’t deserve the life you’ve lived. Keep going—you need it.”

  She did need it. She hadn’t realized how tightly packed her stress was inside her. She took a deep breath and said, “So many people try to work against me here! They don’t realize how I will be the best queen they could ever hope for. They don’t see it. They don’t understand me! And they think they have enough power to stop me. How could they think that when I have more power inside of me than all of them combined?”

  Lenna began to run out of steam, embarrassed that she had let herself go on like that. But Marco had been nodding along with concern the whole time. When he saw that she had finished, he knelt on the ground in front of her and placed his hand on top of hers. His touch was warm and firm, and she melted into it.

  No, no, no! Keep control, child! Not too close, remember? Not too far.

  The pounding words shook her world like an earthquake, but she couldn’t help but slip further into his dark brown eyes.

  “Thank you for telling me all that. I’m sorry it has to be like this,” he said in his deep, soothing voice. “But I think it all serves to make you the best queen Haeden has ever had. I believe that. You’re strong and passionate, and you can channel it all into claiming your country, your power. I’m so proud to be marrying someone so determined, intelligent, and full of life.”

  So foolish, child. How else can I keep you under control?

  She barely heard her guardian. All at once Lenna could feel her guard being let down. She felt like herself, like she wanted to find a balance between wholesome happiness and the power she could obtain. Her head cleared and her body slumped. She turned her hand over to hold his, and he looked at her so kindly and tenderly that she knew he understood her without having to say another word.

  She willed her guardian to hear her thoughts: See? He will only let me rise.

  Thirty

  The throne room was empty except for Lenna and Devon. They spoke quietly, but their voices still echoed.

  “I think it’s very good that you got a chance to talk to your father to clear the air.” Lenna just nodded, and Devon searched her face. “You don’t believe that?”

  “It doesn’t really matter. He means nothing to me.”

  “He could, though. He could mean something. He has good intentions—I know he does. Everyone trusts him. I think that if you can work together and let him help you become Queen, it will be a huge advantage.”

  “He wants me to release Remy, and he was trying to tell me how to handle Grace. And he thinks there’s something wrong with me, just like him.”

  Devon hesitated. “What do you think?”

  “I think that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I’m not releasing a murderer from the dungeon, and I’m not crazy.” Lenna crossed her arms.

  “All right. That’s fair. What did he say about Grace?”

  “He told me to handle it civilly, which will not work with her.”

  Devon paused. “But it’s probably smart to try, don’t you think? Don’t you want less trouble for yourself?”

  She didn’t answer, and he sighed and began cleaning his glasses.

  When he put them back on, he said, “Look, whether you agree with what he has to say or not, he can use his reputation to advocate for you. That’s worth allowing your relationship to be harmonious, or at least not hostile.”

  “I told you, I don’t want anything to do with him.”

  “Lenna, I’m not supposed to be your advisor anymore, but as your friend, I want you to succeed, and I truly think having your father’s help will let you do that.”

  There was the sound of footsteps falling on the tile floor, loud enough to be just outside the room. The person had been listening. The two hushed and waited for the other person to come into the room.

  Lenna called “If you’re going to lurk you might as well come in.”

  She heard Marco’s voice as he walked in. He was smiling wide as always, but there was something different about it. Something calculating about the way his face beamed. “Oh, Lenna, my darling, I thought I heard your voice. I need to talk to you about something.”

  Though she remembered the previous night vividly and fondly, she bristled at the interruption and his strangely impatient tone.

  “May I finish this conversation? It’s important.”

  Marco walked up next to Lenna and Devon. “Hello, friend,” he said to Devon, standing a little too close to him.

  Devon glared and backed up. “Hello, your Highness.”

  “Do you mind leaving me and my fiancée alone for a bit?”

  With only a frustrated look shot to Lenna, he left, his stomping even heavier than Marco had.

  When he was gone, Marco said with an edge to his voice, “What was that?”

  “What do you mean, ‘What was that’? I was speaking to my old advisor. You know, about the country. Why did you make him leave?”

  Marco seemed taken aback by her tone. Lenna guessed it was because the last time she saw him she was melting into his eyes. She didn’t apologize; he may have been comforting and affectionate, but her guardian was right to say Haeden would always be hers alone. He had no right to try to control her or question her actions.

  “I just needed to talk to you…” Marco said. “Is something the matter?”

  “I don’t like my actions being questioned in my own castle. I was speaking to my advisor. Am I not allowed to do that?”

  “He was your advisor. I don’t know why you still…” He sighed, innocence and apology dawning on face. “I am very sorry… I just don’t like you being with him in particular.”

  Lenna scowled at him. “Do you have any idea how helpful he is? I need him.”

  “He’s in love with you. That’s the only reason he helps you. That’s why he tried to stand up to Grace, probably knowing it was hopeless.”

  Lenna felt a pang of anger in her chest. “Oh, that’s the reason he helps me? He’s not in love with me, he’s my advisor. That’s why he helps me. It’s his job. Or was, at least.”

  “You don’t see the way he looks at you?”

  “Marco, stop. I’m not even going to try to explain this to you anymore. We’re engaged, and I’m not going to break that engagement.”

  The logical part of her said she wouldn’t leave him because the marriage would help her become Queen, but she knew she wouldn’t leave him even if that weren’t a factor.

  Caught up in the memory of his affection, she took both of his hands in hers. It was enough to stop his irritation; all worry drained from his face and he wore a satisfied smile. He wrapped her up in a hug, his hands caressing her back.

  “I’m so glad,” he said

  He pulled away, his hands on her shoulders, and looked at her for a moment. Then he pulled her back in and kissed her, so gently and sweetly that any remaining irritation dissipated.

  “You’re important to me,” he said when he pulled back, “that’s all. I don’t want to lose you to someone else.”

  This had the same effect as his touches. She remembered her father, who had left her and now judged her. Her mother, who had preferred Remy over her. Kendra, who wanted another child—one better than her. With Marco, she felt truly wanted.

  You don’t need him; you have me. He will never love you like I do. He will always put himself first. That is what real people do. I am loyal to you, and no one else.

  But Marco was so real. She could feel his body touch her reassuringly, could see his honest eyes when he spoke of his loyalty. She had forgotten how important that physical connection was. She kissed him again as one joyous tear ran down her cheek.

  Thirty-One

  Lenna knew that she needed to kill Grace—it was the only way to fix everything. She had gone over lots of other possible solutions in her head—the suggested civil confrontation, trying to somehow prove her love for her mother, or even bigger empty threats—but none of them would w
ork. They were too far into this, and she knew Grace would not relent.

  Her first thought was to hire a hitman. It would be simple enough, and Lenna’s hands would be clean. But against every wish she had to control herself, she craved the feeling of giving in to the anger bubbling in her stomach. Her constant fear and feeling of helplessness would be alleviated if she saw Grace’s life slip away at her hands. It would feel powerful—she had to admit it.

  She could do it; she played with the thought, with how much it would cost her. How taxing could it be? It was for her own protection. It was a necessary death, a problem to cross off her list.

  The struggle would come if she failed to kill Grace. If she failed to hide her emotions like she had in the past, she could easily be discovered, and it would all be for nothing. Her anger never faded completely, even when she had control. She couldn’t risk it betraying her.

  She would hire someone. Knowing she wouldn’t have the satisfaction of watching her enemy die made her frustration grow, but she had to forget that. She would have nothing to do with the murder.

  Sighing as she got up, Lenna left the hallway window seat where she had perched to think. She headed to the throne room for the open meeting she had to attend. She was probably late, keeping her people would be waiting. It didn’t matter. She knew the people were important in becoming a successful ruler, but she was tiring of their trivial complaints when she had bigger problems.

  As she had expected, a crowd of people was waiting eagerly in front of Marco in the king’s throne, smiling at her people. She was shocked by Devon posted at his usual spot behind her throne. Why did he dare publicly defy Parliament? A group of her advisors stood to the side of the throne platform. They whispered and shot Devon poisonous looks, but he did not look at them.

  When Marco saw Lenna enter from the side, he turned his glittering smile to her. Devon, in turn, saw Marco facing her and smiled at her as well—a smaller, shyer one. She gave him a questioning look, but he didn't budge.

  Lenna waved to the crowd as she sat, and they quieted instantly.

  Lenna waited for the repetitive questions. Things like, “When can we build our new school?” and “When can we expand our farms?” and “Could you possibly send extra people to collect our dead?” were inevitable. A new one was, “Now that Ollivan is back, will he continue to lower our taxes?” There was one answer that would placate them every time: “We’re working on it.” Though she wanted to be productive and make her kingdom healthier, that answer was her only option. She had no way of changing anything in her current position.

  Soon after she sat down, she felt Marco’s hand reach out to grab her own. It was the only thing that interested her here. The people seemed happy to see the couple show off their strong union, as well.

  She scanned the group and found many people who came often, and some new ones who were similarly shabby. One person, however, stood out like a black sheep: Grace. She leaned against a column toward the far exit. Her arms were crossed and she had one foot up on the column. Her stare could have killed someone, but Lenna challenged the unseen gesture with an even bigger, cheesier smile.

  Sure enough, the familiar questions came. Marco answered them elegantly, taking the lead when Lenna seemed unengaged.

  Then, there was one question she wasn’t prepared for from a desperate woman: “Aren’t you seein’ our sacrifices? Any of you? They’re all for you.” Her passion caught Lenna’s attention.

  All for you. Do something. Make them believe in you. They will love you.

  Lenna sat forward in her seat and let go of Marco’s hand. “I do know of them.”

  Marco mirrored her interest but did not look surprised.

  The woman looked hopeful, likely believing her to be some sort of messenger to the gods. Everyone thought she could fix all their problems if she prayed enough.

  “I hear you. And as soon as I become Queen, I will make the changes you desire. I will change your city, your towns. I will be even better than my father was, better than any ruler we have had before.” She believed it. She saw Ollivan in the crowd for the first time, and his eyes met hers. He didn’t seem upset—in fact, he looked proud. She would not do anything for him, but when her guardian hummed, she continued with greater force. “You can trust me. If you devote yourselves to me and support my rise to the throne, I will devote myself to this country.”

  Lenna sat back and smiled as people chattered excitedly. Marco nodded, took her hand again, and squeezed it.

  Among the people buzzing with energy, Grace stepped forward. She looked around at them with passion that rivalled Lenna’s and the woman’s put together. It was fury, though, not hope. “And what makes you think she’s going to keep these promises? Has she ever done anything for you before?”

  The energy began to fizzle out.

  “Well? Has she? She has ignored your pleas for help, your attempts to reach out to her. She has not so much as apologized for the way things are in your city. She has clearly imprisoned her brother—you all remember Remy, the boy who couldn’t hurt a soul—and framed him for a murder she committed herself so he would be out of the way, creating an open path for her to become Queen. It’s plain as day, even by looking at the brother and sister’s vastly different demeanors.”

  She paused, letting the idea sink in. Lenna tried to stand, but Devon grabbed her shoulders to hold her down.

  “How can you trust this person who is undeservingly climbing toward the throne? The same throne, might I remind you, that Ollivan sat in. The one where he declared taxes being lowered and aid being sent to the communities. She has done nothing to indicate that she has any intention of fulfilling your needs. If she has no interest in you now, why would anything change? She doesn’t want the power for you. She wants it for herself, so she can take everyone else down!”

  She scanned the pool of faces with dramatic pity.

  “We need him back,” Grace declared as confidently as someone stating a fact. “We need the man who is willing to make changes. Who has proven that he is dedicated to making changes.”

  Lenna said impatiently, “I have plans for change, even if I have not shared them.” Grace scoffed. Lenna stared at her venomously as she said, “The changes have not been possible only because I have not yet been crowned! As soon as I become Queen, I will change the lives of those who are struggling.”

  The people looked back and forth between Lenna and Grace, trying to figure out who to believe. Should they trust their princess—their queen-to-be—because she had new promises for them, or this woman they barely knew who was telling them they deserved better treatment than what they were getting? Even Lenna knew it was a tough call.

  Ollivan began to step forward and both Marco and Devon began to speak.

  “These are no lies. And being by her side, I will ensure that this country—” Marco started.

  Simultaneously, Devon said, “For as long as I have known Princess Lenna, she has been dedicated to—”

  Lenna interrupted them all, knowing that none of them would help the situation. Grace was beyond pacifying.

  Be smart, child. Careful. Don’t let your emotions draw you in too far.

  Lenna did not listen as her guardian lectured her on all the ways she could handle the situation. She stood and everyone immediately silenced and stilled. Slowly she walked down the steps, staring at Grace, who glared back at her. “What makes you think you can question your princess—your queen—when she makes a promise? What makes you qualified to even pretend to know more than me?” Lenna spat, trying to put up a worthless facade of politeness.

  “Oh, your Highness, I was only speaking the truth. The people deserve to be aware of what is truly going on in the country. Don’t you think?”

  She got even closer. “I just told them what is going on. I told them I will fix all their problems once I become Queen. I can’t do much as a princess, you see. Oh, but you know that. You want it to stay that way.” She turned to the bewildered people. “This woman
who accuses me of being a useless, lying, dangerous woman is the same one who is preventing me from being useful. She has made it so I can’t become Queen. If I can’t become Queen, how can she expect me to make any changes? Do you see my dilemma?”

  Most people relaxed, trying their best to trust the woman who would be their ruler.

  “Lady Grace is turning against me.” In her hazy rage, she thought this was a perfect time to say, “What should we do with people who turn against their queen?” She looked around with eyebrows raised. “Any ideas?”

  The room was quieter than any place filled with dozens of people should be.

  Grace said, “I’m only looking out for everyone. More importantly, I’m looking out for your mother whom you killed so you could become Queen. How could I let that go by unpunished? It doesn’t seem fair; even you must realize that. And besides, your father is back, and—”

  Lenna shot her hand out and grabbed the back of Grace’s neck, pulling a chunk of hair with it. The group shifted back, and gasps echoed through the room. She distantly heard someone begging her to stop—she guessed it was Devon—but she wouldn’t. Grace was trying to turn her people against her, and she couldn’t roll over and accept that. She spoke of punishment while she was the criminal. Grace didn’t flinch as Lenna pulled her face close to her own, as if she had been expecting it. She peered at her with her head tilted back, trying to conceal a smile only Lenna could see.

  Engaging will only tear you apart. A real ruler lets others take the fall. Your ancestors were too involved, and it killed them,

  “Go ahead,” Grace whispered, so quietly that Lenna was sure no one else had heard it. It struck a chord in her that buzzed blindingly.

  “What was that?” Lenna screamed into her face.

  Grace’s half-smile was now stuck on her face.

  “You think you can defy your queen?” Lenna growled, now inches from her face. “You think you can accuse me of wretched things, of lies, and expect to get away with it? Now tell me, what do we do with traitors?”