by Emily Albert
“Lenna, I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never killed anyone. You have more knowledge of this than I do.”
“Yes, but I still need your help. I can’t do it alone. Okay? And then… then we can be together, and all my problems… Everything will be fine. Like you said, I can’t be with him.”
Devon’s mouth formed a line. “Lenna…” Then he looked at her bright eyes, right above her still-visible bruise. “Okay. Let’s do it. I guess… I guess I have nothing to lose.”
Lenna snorted. “Maybe not a title, but your freedom. Your life.” The way she said it did not indicate that she wanted him to change his mind.
They looked at each other for a long while. Devon said, “Either I lose you to him, or save you and not be alive to see it. So, how do we do it?”
If you fail, if you cost him his life, there is no running from your husband. Don’t be sloppy, and don’t get caught.
Lenna knew this was necessary from the way her guardian didn’t oppose. It meant it was the better option.
The plan was finalized. Devon volunteered to do most of the work so she would be less likely to get caught. If someone found out he was guilty, Lenna would say it was an act of jealousy. She would vouch for him, advocating for a less severe punishment, and she would be free.
Lenna would start by letting Marco attack her in whatever way he felt compelled to that night. She would taunt him, making him heated and preoccupied. Devon would come in when he heard the commotion, as if to see if Lenna was okay. When he saw that she wasn’t, he would call the guards who waited near the door. Lenna would call for help, the guards would pull him away, and she would tell them to bring him to another room to be contained.
The next day, Devon would ask to bring him his food so he could apologize for walking in on them. The guards, of course, would check with Lenna to see if it was okay. She would agree and ask Devon to come to her when she was done, as she wanted to speak to him. On his way to Marco’s room, he would poison the food with something he would steal from the apothecary while paying him a visit. Marco would eat the food, fall ill and die, and Lenna and Devon would walk away looking like a victim and an apologetic friend.
Lenna laughed quietly at her past self who was tormented by killing Grace. Now she wasn’t alone, and she wasn’t afraid.
Just don’t fall in love with this one.
○○○
Lenna’s day began with Vannette getting her ready. She dressed her, styled her hair, and applied her makeup. The power her armor provided washed over her.
“Your Majesty, you seem to be in a good mood today.”
“Yes, I suppose I am.”
Vannette mirrored her smile.
Alone now, Lenna sat at her vanity going over her plans again and again. She thought of every detail, how it would feel, what Marco’s face would look like.
She stayed in her room all day, trying to entertain herself with books and conversations with the servants who brought her food. When the sun finally set, her stomach twisted into knots that she easily dismissed.
Do not worry, child. You are more than him. You cannot allow yourself any weakness now.
The difference between killing Grace and Marco was that now, she had settled enough to hear her guardian when it warned her to not make it personal. When she had faced Grace, she was angry and afraid. It had caused her to be sloppy. But with Marco, she was not angry or fearful. The simple truth was, he would never let her rule, and even if she had children with him, he would ruin them. He had to die, and she was the only one who would be willing to murder the King. This was not an act of hysteria. She was cold and hard.
She squashed every hint of apprehension in her body. She was ready. Devon would be lurking around her room soon.
When it was totally dark, Lenna lit the candles. As the last one flicked to life, the door opened.
“Where have you been all day?” Marco sneered. “What have you been doing? I haven’t seen you anywhere.”
“I’ve been here. I’m feeling ill, but I’m fine.”
“Hm. All right, then. I’ve been busy.” He stumbled slightly as he walked in.
“Busy with drinking or with plotting with your new reps?”
Marco didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to for her to know it was both.
Lenna channeled the anger that had often overtaken her. “I can’t believe you, trying to ruin my reign! You think you can come here and take over? You’re wrong!” She said it loud enough that someone outside the room would be able to hear.
His lips quirked. “I thought we’d been over this. Why haven’t you given up? You may be the Queen, but you’ll never truly rule.”
She stepped close to him, her chocolate eyes peering up at his. The smell of alcohol emanated from him, bringing back their nights in bed. She didn’t let herself flinch. “You can try to take it away from me, but this country is mine, always will be. There’s no taking it, not for long.”
He took hold of her shoulders and shook her once. “How can you be so dense?” He screamed, then checked his volume. “How can you really believe that?”
She felt a flutter of wicked excitement. She had done it. It would be over soon. She had told Devon to wait a few minutes before coming in.
She said, “You don’t see how strong I am. I have more power here than you can even imagine! I know things you never will. I have influence. I have my people,” she said.
“Oh, like little Devon?” he mocked.
“Yes, like little Devon,” she said with a brilliant smile. “Are you jealous? Jealous, even though you have no feelings for me? Or are you threatened by him? Hm? Afraid he and I will slow you down?”
In a moment, she was thrown on the bed, her dress being hiked up. Yes, this was it. She prayed to no god, no guardian, just the universe, that Devon would barge in at any second.
She was still sore, so the pain was worse than the first time. It shot through her as he groaned on top of her. She prayed and prayed.
“Help!” she hollered. Maybe Devon hadn’t heard her yell before. Marco slapped his hand over her mouth, but it was too late; she had already said it.
She heard the guards’ armor clanking outside, then voices: “You are not allowed in here! These are the King and Queen’s chambers. Leave! You must go—now!”
Then Devon’s voice: “I’m going in! You can’t stop me!”
The guards burst in, trying to push Devon back. When they saw what was happening, they turned away at once, ashamed to have interrupted. Devon did not look away. “Are you okay, your Majesty? Is everything all right? I heard you call for help.”
“Everything is fine, you imbecile! You can leave now! How dare you run into our room like this!” Marco shouted.
“Guards! Guards!” Devon yelled at the men behind him. “Don’t you see what’s happening? She called for help!”
The guards instead shepherded Devon out of the room.
“You’re just going to let this happen? He is a danger to the Queen!”
“This is not our business. Get out. Now.”
Devon fought until he was forced out the door, looking at Lenna’s panicked face desperately.
“But the Queen!”
“Out, now.”
Devon was gone, as were the guards; her one chance at freedom had walked out the door. Fresh tears burned her eyes and stress built up as a headache. She silently cursed the guards, the people she had always trusted to defend her. She cursed Devon for not trying harder. She cursed the blacksmith for giving her this armor, this false hope. And she cursed herself for getting into this mess.
Marco still looked frazzled from the intrusion. It would have been the perfect time to pull out her dagger and stab him, but the guards had just seen that she was the only one with him. They had heard her cry for help. There would be no doubt that she killed him.
Lenna hurt all over, and her plan was crushed. She stared silently at Marco, who bared his teeth in a smile. “That’s a good girl.”
; She squeezed her eyes shut and waited. She would kill her husband. Not tonight, but one day soon, he would die at her hands.
Forty-Four
Lenna and Devon had planned to reconvene the next morning. She left while Marco was still asleep, as she hadn’t slept the whole night. There was no use putting a pillow between them anymore; he would touch her anyway, so she resigned to sleeping right next to him. His smell and heat kept her up.
She dressed herself before scurrying to Devon’s bedroom. Her chest was tense and her stomach was full of bottled up anger, but she ignored it. She wouldn’t let herself burst this time.
Lenna swung Devon’s door open without waiting knocking. He jolted awake and covered his bare chest with his blanket. His eyes were wide open with fear until they settled on Lenna. He ran a hand through his tousled hair and let out a breath.
“Gods, Lenna, what’s wrong? The sun is hardly up.”
“Take a second to wake up. Try to remember. Shake the fog off.” He scratched his stubble with half-closed eyes. “Remember now? Last night?”
“Yes, Lenna, of course I remember! How could I not? I wish I could forget, but it’s important, so…”
“Yes, exactly. It is important. You can’t forget. Let it fuel your hatred and motivate you to think of a better plan.”
Lenna began to pace around his room with long strides. She had never been here, but it looked similar to her room with elegant dark furniture and deep-toned pillows and blankets. It was smaller, though—not as good for pacing—and the furniture had no scratches or dents. Everything was neat—books were lined up parallel to the sides of the tables, papers were stacked perfectly on his desk. A pen and ink, letter opener, seal stamp, and a candle for wax flanked an open spot for writing.
Part of her wanted to destroy the neatness. She had to keep her emotions in check, and she did. But if papers flew and ink spilled, it might make up for that.
Keep it together, child. There is no time to tempt your anger. Focus.
The voice that tried to soothe her was frantic. Still, she knew she had to internalize its words. There was no time to do anything but plan. She felt her crown; that was what she needed to think of.
Devon sat up, now fully awake. “Talk to me. Are you scared, angry, or pensive?”
Lenna blinked at him. “No. None of those. I’m fine.”
Devon studied her. “Okay, okay… Lenna, can you hear me?”
Lenna nodded and quickened her pace. She heard him, but she was not ready to listen and talk. Her thoughts were consumed by grasping at ideas.
“You can’t, though. Not really.”
He pushed the covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He walked toward her with the caution of someone approaching a wild animal. “Lenna,” he said, so gently that the tone alone made her stop. Her thoughts slowed, but she did not look at him.
He got closer until she could hear his breathing. It reminded her of lying with Marco, and she tensed, but forced herself to not move. He would not hurt her.
“Lenna,” he said again. His caring voice drew her eyes to his. Looking at him steadied her mind.
Let him think with you. You have to finish this.
Lenna sat on the ground and Devon sat across from her, his knees nearly touching hers. He held her chin as if reminding her to not look away from what grounded her. His hand was warm, and she breathed easily.
He moved it to her cheek, cradling it. She felt her guard dropping, just as it had with Marco.
Don’t fall in love with this one, her guardian reminded her.
Lenna told herself she didn’t need the kind touches and loving gestures. Her body wanted it, but it would destroy her mind and take her power.
She pulled away.
“Please,” she sighed, her voice cracking. “Please just help me kill Marco. Help me get my power back.”
Devon let out a soft breath. “If you want me to say I’m sorry, I won’t. But for now, we’re going to fix this.”
“How?”
“I don’t know… But we’re going to sit here until we figure it out.”
Lenna nodded and looked at her hands, wrists still punctured. It was scary to think of looking up again to see the adoration in his face, the love she could not have.
That’s right. You’re learning child.
She held in the tears that choked her, begging herself to stop feeling. Though she could convince herself she didn’t feel anything but determination, Devon didn’t believe it. He grabbed her wrists and held them like they might break.
She pulled her hands away with difficulty and rubbed her face.
“We need to think,” she said as firmly as she could manage. “Tell me your ideas.”
Devon started and straightened himself. He said, “The guards know you’re in trouble, but they don’t care. They think it’s none of their business. They’re going to tell themselves it was innocent… Gods, don’t they know it’s their job to protect all royals, even from each other? You grew up here, they should be protective—” His voice grew louder as he went on from a wounded whisper.
“Shh, I know. I know how it should be, but there’s no use going on about it. We have to fix it.” There was a pregnant silence. “Devon, I want to kill him so badly. You have no idea…”
“Yes, I have some idea.” He looked at her with a kind of gentle fondness that even Marco never matched. “But it’s harder to kill the King than a lady, isn’t it?”
A quick, nervous laugh slipped out of her, and it spread to him.
“I’ll never tell anyone. You know that, right? Not about Grace, or about this. I’ll always protect you.”
“Even when you think I’m wrong? I’m sure you didn’t agree with me killing Grace.”
“It was rash, yes. But I believe you did what you had to. If she were alive, you would be destroyed. Ollivan and Remy wouldn’t measure up.”
Her lips twitched into a smile for a moment. “Okay.”
They sat together for a long while, and Lenna’s mind wandered to Darrian, the master of hardness and cruelty. He would have had grand ideas for the King’s murder. That kind of open relentlessness would not work now, as it didn’t work for him then. It wouldn’t take long for everyone to find out, and if Haeden’s government didn’t call for her execution, Marco’s family would. Grace had little family, no people powerful enough to take the murderer down, but Marco did. Elawar was too big of a threat.
There was still something appealing in Darrian. She needed his ruthlessness, his lack of remorse. She knew she could adopt his callousness while being smarter than him. She had learned from the mistakes of those who came before her, and she had fought off madness herself. She was prepared to handle greater power.
“Darrian. I need to be like him. I wish I could meet him.”
“Are you serious? You want to be like him? He was insane.”
“No, actually, I want to be better than him.”
“Darrian was dangerous, Lenna. You shouldn’t strive to be anything like him.”
The instant Lenna heard Devon say his name, something clicked. It was as if Ollivan was saying it, and it dragged up the memory of those conversations. There were secrets that only he and his son knew. Ollivan had said they were all too dangerous to uncover, but he mentioned one that seemed to bother him the most: a hidden room that Darrian would slink into and stay in for days at a time, coming out frazzled and manic. What cruel secrets did he keep in there?
Ollivan hadn’t mentioned where it was, but Lenna was sure he knew from watching Darrian go in.
She stood. “I’m going now. I have an idea.”
He stood as well, showing they were closer than she had realized. “Where are we going? Do you want to talk about it first?”
She stepped back and cleared her throat. They were too close. Too connected. She trusted that Devon would keep her secrets, but that wasn’t enough now. If he couldn’t handle what Darrian had to offer, he would abandon her. Killing Marco without Devon to fall
back on wasn’t an option. If she became even a suspect of the murder, no one else would trust her, and she would be alone without heirs. It was better for Devon to be oblivious.
“Thank you for the company while I made plans, but I’ve got it handled now.”
“Wait, I’m in this with you. What changed?”
As she turned away, he grabbed her wrist, gently so it did not hurt. “Please tell me what you’re doing. I’m going to help. I’m coming with you.”
His hand was soft and careful on her wrist. His eyes were an intense green, like nothing she had ever seen before. They were glassy with tears that dared to fall if she shook him off. His hair was still unkempt and he was still not wearing a shirt, but he seemed too focused on her to care. She looked at him for as long as she dared, which was much longer than she knew she should have.
Keep your softness on the inside, child. Go. Protect yourself. We’re counting on you.
She tried to pull away, but not very hard. He pulled her back, making her look at his watery eyes. “Please. I’m afraid for you.”
Protect yourself. He will be here when you are done.
The truth in the reminder gave her the strength to pull away completely. She turned away and walked toward the door, becoming surer with every step.
“Thank you for trying to help me, but I need to go. I will be back, and we can still be together, but I must do this alone.”
Her heart was hardening to become Darrian’s, and she welcomed the change. She had found the strength she had been striving for from the beginning.
○○○
Along with the thought of Darrian came a feral call deep in her mind, like he was proud of her. She walked to Ollivan’s room with her head high. People in the hallways did little to acknowledge her, but she didn’t mind. She would show them that she could help them, and they would love her for it.
When she turned into the wing where Ollivan’s room was, one set of quiet footsteps sounded behind her. She swung around to face Devon. He was far enough away that he was hard to hear but close enough that he could follow her. He halted, not looking ashamed.