by Emily Albert
She read it again and again:
King Adrian,
I refuse to accommodate your brother Marco any longer. He has ruined my country and brainwashed everyone in it. I will not tolerate it, and my country should not be made to tolerate it either. His theft was enough of a crime. But I believe the worst part for my people will be when I tell them Marco was the one who had our beloved Queen Fay killed. I will tell them I was wrong about my brother and that as I got closer to my husband, he revealed that he wanted Queen Fay out of the way so he could marry me and be a king alongside his queen. He thought ruling side-by-side would bring us closer. Though I love him dearly, I would have no choice but to serve justice. The punishment for regicide is not a pretty one.
If you don’t want Marco to be ruined or killed by this, surrender your country to me. When I am Queen of Elawar and you ensure Marco and I are granted a divorce, I will send him home to you alive and innocent.
If you instead decide to cross the sea to save him or take me down, expect to lose Marco and your men. Once they are captured, I will reveal Marco’s crime. Trying to rescue a criminal is nearly as bad as being the criminal yourself. I would be forced to punish the men involved, then execute Marco to prevent a murderer from escaping. After that, when everyone who was brave enough to travel to Haeden is imprisoned, I will send my troops to take Elawar. They listen to my father above anyone else, and he would do this for me without question.
After that, I will take the world.
You may live to see me at the top or die and see nothing at all.
Queen Lenna Greyor
She would not consult her advisors. She would take her scrawled letter and send it privately. She could defeat King Adrian no matter what he did.
You will rise and rise and rise.
Forty-Five
The letter had been sent a week ago, and Lenna sat in her desk chair going through it in her mind. She didn’t know how long she had been sitting there before there was a light knock on her door.
“Come in…”
Devon stood in her doorway.
“Oh, no.” She said. “You can leave. You’re useless to me.”
He pushed the door closed and stood near her. “The contents of your letter have leaked. It was probably Marco who intercepted it, though he denies it.”
Lenna leaned toward him. “Did he take the letter?”
“No… I don’t think so. He must have sent his own along with it. He must have given them information that could help them take you down. I’m not sure what…”
Lenna shrugged. “They won’t be able to defeat me.”
Devon shook his head and took a deep breath. “What have you done?”
Lenna smirked at him. “I did what I had to do to claim what’s mine. You know Marco has to go, and that’s just the start of the benefits I will soon reap.”
“People will despise you for it! Let me help you fix this mistake—”
Lenna slammed her hand on her desk and Devon jumped. “It’s not a mistake! I’m going to get everything I’ve ever wanted! Do you know how capable I am? Do you know?” She stood so she was snarling close to his face.
“Just let me help. We can reverse this…”
“I thought you didn’t want to be part of it.”
“I didn’t, but now—”
“You don’t want to support me, you just want to be with me. And if I’m not exactly the woman you want, you’ll try to change me. I don’t want you like you want me.”
Devon stiffened. “All I want is for you to be safe. And this… this will not make you safe.” He took off his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose, put them back on. “You might regret pushing me away.”
She wouldn’t.
“Go!” She was so close to his face that he gasped. As he turned away slowly, she called, “Don’t come back this time!”
Forty-Six
In the middle of the night, there was a noise. Something like screaming and chanting. Lenna pulled her covers over her head. Something bad was happening, and she wanted no part of it. But the noise only got louder; it was coming closer.
She groaned and threw her covers off. “What is that?” she yelled toward her door. “Someone tell me, what could that possibly be!”
There was no response. Even Marco, she realized, was not with her. It was as if all the sound in the castle had been pulled outside. She heard the commotion loudest when she neared her balcony. She pulled the glass door open, and her once serene sanctuary flooded with chaotic noise. She put one foot on the stone floor of the balcony; it was warm despite it being nighttime. The noise drew her out, so instead of slipping shoes on, she ventured into the sweltering air barefoot. Even in her light, flowing nightgown, it was unbearable.
The noise was coming from outside the castle gates. There was an enormous mass of people—probably thousands of them. It spread most of the way down the road to the city. Dozens of guards stood inside the gate, holding it closed. Each person made their own unique scream, all combining to create a bustling horde. The relentless, haphazard hollering seemed to be some sort of protest. Some of them held torches. And yes, there it was—a group among the crowd holding signs. Lenna could not read them, but she didn’t have to. She knew what they wanted: for her to stop the fighting. Devon had warned her of her words being spread.
Her eyes adjusted to the bright light and she could make out the shape of each person. One woman pointed at her, and every face turned to her in creepy synchrony. Her hair stood on end and she shivered despite the heat. The racket paused, and it was so quiet she could hear animals rustling in the trees nearby. The signs were held higher. On them were sloppy messages written in charcoal: “PEACE WILL FREE US.” “FIGHTS TAKE OUR FOOD.” “MONEY FOR US, NOT TROOPS.”
“That was our money!”
“Yeah, what about us? What about what we need? You promised!”
“We’ve been killin’ all our people for nothin’!”
“Our sacrifices would have kept us alive, but you ignored them!”
“She’s had her chance! We need her gone!”
“She deserves the same treatment as her brother! Let King Marco rule! He won’t fail us.”
Lenna reached for her crown for comfort; she had not put it on. Though she felt sick and dizzy, she yelled, “Marco is the one who killed Queen Fay! He is the murderer who needs to go! I’m only trying to protect you from him! It will be safer when he’s gone! You’ll all be saved!” It went unheard.
“Put the Queen in the dungeon and the King will help us!”
“King Marco will keep his promises!”
Lenna said, “I will fix it! When I take Elawar, I will use their money to—”
“You’ll never do it!”
She wanted to fight for them. She had planned to. But of course they wouldn’t believe that; all they saw was her selfishness. They didn’t see how the only way to fix her country was to first gain power and protect herself. Both of these she had to do without going mad. She hadn’t gotten there yet. They didn’t understand that being a ruler came with complications that slowed the process.
She hadn’t understood that. She had judged Darrian and Ollivan for failing, but she was no different than them. No smarter, no stronger. She had failed because the expectations of her guardian and ancestors would crush anyone.
Fix it, child! Convince them! Marco is a danger to them! They must see that. He is a danger to you and your legacy!
Lenna wanted to protest, but the courage she gathered was wiped away when she saw the speaker. Coira stood at the front of the crowd, scowling at her. She had never seen the cheerful woman so furious.
“Stop the ugly fightin’!” Coira said. “Look at us. See us. You were there when they made a sacrifice. You know what we need, and you spend your money and energy on fightin’ instead!”
“I was trying to help! You’re not safe with him!”
“He’s done us no harm so far!” someone else said.
“I told you I would
fix the country, and that’s what I’m doing. Don’t you trust the queen who has loved you all your life?”
Lenna’s hands were sweating; she told herself it was from the heat.
There was another familiar voice from inside the gate: “You said you would take care of them, my dear! And you vowed to take care of me!” Marco’s voice was hideous—mocking and menacing at the same time.
He is nothing! Look at him all the way down there! You’re stronger, smarter, and you can demolish him in a second.
Lenna’s throat threatened to close, and her knees wobbled. Still, she bellowed, “He doesn’t care for you! He only cares for his own country! He killed Queen Fay to take Haeden!”
“He wouldn’t!”
“You just believe that because you’re desperate. You don’t know him!” Fear choked her, and her screams became weaker.
“We thought we knew you, but we don’t! We thought you would put us before everythin’ else!”
An old lady next to Coira said, “You’re so much worse than your mother, your father, and your grandfather! You wouldn’t know how to take care of us if the bricks and bread landed in your hands! You never even tried! We’ll listen to King Marco now! We want you gone!”
Fix it! You will own the world, but you must fight for it! Fight harder than you ever have.
The weight crushed her. Harder, harder, harder.
Her whole body shook, and she thought she might faint. She gripped the railing hard as the mob continued to pelt her with insults. Her fingertips turned white and started to hurt, but she kept digging them in anyway.
She got up the strength to roar, “You must respect your queen! All you sad little things! I am higher above you than you can imagine! Without your king, the murderer, I will have the power to fix everything!”
The crowd kept yelling. As she collapsed, she saw Marco’s smug face through the bars of the railing, watching her be attacked.
Turns out your husband does not need to destroy you. You can do that all your own. All he needs to do is watch. How is it you’ve become so feeble, so small? You’ve failed. Do you see that? You’ve failed yourself, and you’ve failed me. Failed all of us.
Harder, harder, harder.
The frantic voice of her guardian scared her more than the mob.
There was nothing else to do. The people were convinced she was a monster. Bread, water, bricks—that was all they asked for, and she hadn’t given it to them.
Lenna whimpered and retreated inside. Covering her ears, she sprinted all the way to Darrian’s basement. During the long sprint down the stairs, she cried.
You have fewer wits than them! If you had been born a peasant, perhaps you could have gone farther.
Harder.
Look at you run! Run away from those insects of people. They starve and beg, and still they are stronger than you.
Harder.
You’re nothing! A failure, a disappointment! I was wrong about you. You never should have become Queen. Never!
Harder.
The familiar basement was cool and quiet, and Lenna sobbed harder as soon as she entered. She lit each candle with shaking hands, almost blowing several out with her sputtering breaths. Despite the chilly air, she sweated under her cumbersome armor. Taking her armor off, she tossed the pieces onto one of the tables. They knocked over the figures Darrian had used to plan his war. Plans didn’t matter. It was all over.
Giving up already? Unbelievable. I had high hopes for you, and you disappointed me. You’re not going to keep fighting? For me? For your ancestors?
Lenna screamed so loud her throat hurt. No one would be able to hear her. Every time her guardian began to speak, she screamed again, trying to block it out. It didn’t work; she heard every condemning word.
You are a horse—do you see that yet? You need to be a lion to succeed. Don’t you want to be a lion?
Ollivan’s words rang in her head. If she had listened to him, she would be safe. Even if she had traveled to an isolated farm and worked for her dinner, there wouldn’t be people after her and violence in her head. Running was the only way she could have survived. Her guardian would never stop otherwise.
Stay and fight. You must fight. You can win if you try harder. Please.
She couldn’t try any harder, and she didn’t want to. Every day for months, her guardian had told her she was strong. She had told herself she was strong. She was, but it didn’t matter. It would never be enough to save her.
She looked at what she had carved on the wall: “I WILL FINISH IT.” But she couldn’t. How had she been foolish enough to believe she could take over the world? She had thought she could do the impossible, but it was just that—impossible.
Lenna didn’t recognize herself. She yearned for the happy, innocent girl she had been. She yearned for the child who had played with her friends and brother and depended on Kendra’s love. That was her distant past, but only a moment ago, she had met her father, had been loved by Devon, and had found unexpected happiness in Coira. She had destroyed all of it. Destroyed herself. Trading everything that had tried to welcome her for power and the illusion of safety had turned her into a monster.
Everyone who was turned away when offering Lenna happiness deserved better. It was too late to go back and fix things.
Lenna pulled her dagger from her breastplate and it shone by the light of a candle.
“I’m your little plaything, right?” Lenna yelled into the void above her. “You’re dangling me in the face of danger for your own benefit. What’s it for, huh? Who are you? You need me, right? Tell me why you need me! Why are you doing this?”
There was a long pause until Lenna raised her dagger to show her guardian.
No, no, no. Drop it, now! Drop the dagger! Do not harm yourself! You are mine! You can fix this!
“Why? You still need me? Your big plan is spoiled if I’m dead? Well guess what! It doesn’t matter to me at all! Once I’m gone, I’m gone. I can’t deal with it anymore, and you can’t stop me! I don’t care if I disappoint you! I’m done!”
No! You imbecile! If you want to do what’s right for the world, drop it! Save yourself to save the world! Clueless, clueless! How can you not care? You need to be alive!
“No, only you need me alive. I don’t need to be here, and I don’t want to be here. I won’t play your games anymore.”
She whispered, “I’m tired.”
You can’t do it. You won’t. You’re not strong enough to end your life, and too smart. Yes, I need you alive. Isn’t that enough? Don’t you care?
“No,” she said through tears. “I don’t care. And I’m not afraid.”
She plunged the dagger into her chest without hesitation. The pain was nothing, almost a release. She fell, and as she did, she heard something shrill and alarming. Her guardian panicked, and its fury was drilled into her head. She was too far gone to care.
No one would save her in the basement. As her senses faded, this knowledge felt like freedom, like peace.
Yes, she was free. It was over.
Forty-Seven
Devon found Lenna, but it was too late. She watched it happen from somewhere she did not recognize. She watched him cry like nothing she had ever seen, but she had no regrets. He could cry, as long as her pain was gone.
When Devon left after a long time, presumably to alert everyone, she lost sight of him. She lost sight of everything, actually. Her body, everyone in the castle, the castle itself, even the country, were tiny specs in her field of vision. Though she saw nothing of her old life, she saw everything, all at once.
“What have you done?” A deep, familiar voice growled. It was close to her, closer than it ever had been. She could tell now that her guardian was a man. “How could you end it? You ruined it. You ruined everything.”
“I-I don’t know what you mean.” Lenna’s voice was thin and ethereal, and it startled her. She looked down, and her body was not there. It was only the globe. “What’s happening?”
“You fa
iled, Lenna.”
“What did I fail?” It paused while she stopped to remember her suicide. “I know. I know I failed. I wanted to go to the top, but it was impossible. It hurt too much.”
“You should have done it anyway. Not just for me, but for all of us. For your ancestors, your bloodline. You were supposed to keep going. You have no idea how terribly you’ve ruined things, do you? He’s going to be furious.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I—”
“As your guardian, you have not only disappointed me—”
Another gruff voice appeared somewhere farther away. “She’s here? No! No, it can’t be! Darrian, tell me it isn’t true! What have you done? How could you let her life end? She wasn’t done! Not even close!”
Other panicked presences surrounded her, murmuring.
Her guardian—Darrian—said, “Yes, she is here.” His voice was wounded. “I tried. I tried, and she failed. It’s on her.”
“But you were guarding her! It was your only job to protect her, at least until…”
“Yes, I know. But do not forget that her life is partly in her own hands. She was uncontrollable.”
“Did you tell her it was necessary for her to live?”
“She knew, Sylvester.”
The other voice fumed; she thought she could feel the heat. “But you didn’t tell her why? You didn’t explain the mission? How could you not tell her? Did you think she would figure out her purpose all on her own?”
“I didn’t tell Ollivan either. It’s too much for them to handle. I couldn’t handle it, ‘Vester,” he said pointedly. “The children, the legacy… It’s too much pressure to begin with. It would have gone to her head. She wasn’t ready. I was trying to build her up to it. I would have told her… I was trying to make sure she wouldn’t—”