But what surprised me most of all was that Zafir had refused to go with Max Ko g.
h="1e, the prince he had vowed his life to protect, and instead had insisted on remaining with me. I didn’t understand clearly, and he refused to explain his reasons to me, but no one questioned the giant when he grabbed hold of my arm, refusing to leave my side. Apparently I had Zafir’s protection, whether I’d asked for it or not. I paced to the window, wearing a path in the thick rug beneath my feet. “How much longer does she plan to keep us in here like this?”
Zafir didn’t respond. He’d stopped answering my questions when I’d begun repeating the same ones again and again.
I stared out onto the grounds that we’d passed on our way to the palace. The same ones I’d at first thought were idyllic now felt isolating. One more barrier between us and the city we’d left behind.
Tears welled in my eyes, but I forced them back. Had there really been a meeting planned at all, or was this whole thing just a trap? And, if so, who had she meant to capture? Me or Xander?
I felt guilty for agreeing to let Xander come at all. He had responsibilities to those who supported and counted on him. I had no business allowing him to escort me to the palace. I should have forbidden it.
I ran my hand along the sill of the window, marveling at the artistry that had been put into even the most insignificant details of the room. The carvings appeared handcrafted and expertly done. In the hours we’d been held here so far, I’d memorized nearly every opulent detail of the bedchamber in which I was being held.
It was the most luxuriously furnished room I’d ever laid eyes on, or even imagined. Every fabric, right down to the linens on the bed, was finely woven and hand-stitched. Every piece of furniture was meticulously constructed. Every metal was of the purest form, expensive and polished to a blinding shine.
It was a well-appointed prison.
“Do you think Max is nearby?” I turned to face Zafir, unable to ask about my parents just yet, worried my voice would break under the strain.
Zafir stood in the exact spot he had since we’d arrived, just inside the door, never moving, barely blinking. His gaze fell on me, and I wondered if he felt pity for me when, at last, he answered, “His chambers are on the next floor. I’m sure that’s where he’s been taken.”
“He has his own room?”
“He’s a prince. This is his home.”
I took a step backward, grasping the back of a tall chair. Home. How had that thought never occurred to me? I felt as if the wind had just been knocked out of me. This didn’t feel like anyone’s home.
“What about his parents?” I asked, knowing I was prying but unable to stop myself.
Zafir didn’t seem to mind revealing Max’s history. “His father—the queen’s son—died in a hunting accident shortly after Max’s birth. When the queen realized that Max’s mother could no longer bear royal heirs, that a princess was no longer a possibility, she was paid off and sent away. She hasn’t been heard from since.”
I tried to imag Jo g qo imag Jine what that must have been like for Max, and for Xander. To grow up without their father, knowing that their mother had abandoned them for a price. To live in this palace without their parents.
I looked up again, and this time I could feel the tears threatening to spill. My voice shook. “What of my parents, Zafir? What about Aron? Where do you think they are right now?”
“They’re here,” he stated flatly.
The scraping noise that came from the other side of the enormous carved canopy bed sounded like one heavy boulder sliding over the top of another. It wasn’t until Zafir left his post at the door and grabbed my arm, dragging me close, that I could see the opening in the wall itself. A hidden doorway.
I peered inside the hole and saw Xander’s wide smile. Claude stood by his side, no smile. And then I saw Max pushing past them both. He reached for me, hauling me close and kissing my hair, my cheeks, my lips.
“You’re safe?” he breathed against my forehead, and I nodded, self-conscious to have so many eyes on us.
I could scarcely believe he’d come for me.
“Hurry,” Xander urged. “I don’t know how much time we have before they realize we’re missing.”
“What is this place?” I asked, looking around at the narrow opening—a hidden hallway behind the walls of the castle—as Max was already pulling me along. Behind me, I heard that shrill grating sound once more as Zafir resealed the cavity.
“We used to play in these passageways when we were boys,” Max explained, and as the flame from Xander’s lamp flickered over their faces, I could see the grins that he and Max exchanged. “They run throughout the palace, connecting almost all of the rooms and running belowground. Xander and I would sneak into the cellars and hunt for treasure. There’s an entire chamber filled with artifacts dating back to your family’s reign.” More quietly, he added, “It’s where I found the locket.”
Xander led the way. His steps were sure, as if he could have negotiated his way without any light at all. Mine were less so, and I clung to Max, following his physical cues. When he moved, I moved. When he halted, I did as well.
Zafir remained at the rear, guarding our backs. And ahead of Max and me, Claude looked ready for attack.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
It was Xander who answered, as we turned and turned again, traversing a twisting maze of tunnels. “I was afraid Sabara might pull something like this, so I had Brooklynn gather some men to follow us. Of course, they didn’t have the luxury of a royal transport, but they should be here soon.”
“And then what?”
Max squeezed my hand. “Then we get your parents and your friend, and we get the hell out of here.”
Everything changed the moment we emerged from the narrow passages into a dungeonlike cellar. Oil-filled sconces lined the hallways, making everything just a little too clear as we found ourselves face-to-face with an armed contingent of at least twenty men, all dressed in bl Jo g q in bl Joodred—the color of the queen’s guard.
Xander reacted first, moving slowly as he placed his lamp at his feet. Max gradually drew me behind him, away from the others, until our backs were braced against the wall.
One of the queen’s men stepped forward from the rest. His uniform was decorated with the glittering gold stars and tassels of a commanding officer. His expression was formidable. “Stop where you are,” he ordered. “I want to see your hands.” And then he leveled his gaze on me. “All of you.”
I obeyed, lifting my hands in front of me, but Max pushed them back down again, refusing to surrender. “We’ve done nothing wrong,” he stated, his voice unwavering as he positioned himself to stand in front of me. “Back down now and no one will get hurt.” A meaningful glance was exchanged among all four of the men I traveled with. I seemed to be the only one who thought we were outnumbered.
There was a charged silence, a moment when twenty men in red stood like an impassive, imbreachable wall staring back at Max and Xander and Claude and Zafir. We had size on our side. They had sheer numbers.
“Xander! Watch out!” It was Max’s hoarse bellow that drew my attention as one of the queen’s guards broke away from the ranks and was advancing on his brother.
Xander moved like a blur, reaching for his ankle and whipping back up again with a knife that had been hidden in the side of his boot. He slashed a wide arc through the air, quickly and efficiently, and the guard fell to the ground, thrashing violently while his fingers tried in vain to seal the open wound at his throat.
Claude and Zafir were in the fray before my heart could beat again.
Max pressed me farther back, refusing to leave me even though I knew he longed to join them.
Three men assailed Claude at once, and just when I thought he’d drop beneath their weight, Claude’s fist crashed upward, striking one man’s jaw with a sickening crack. A second man dropped to his knees when Claude snapped his arm like it was no more substantial than a c
hild’s. The third screamed when his nose was shattered.
Xander’s blade easily cut down two more guards, blood staining the floor all around them.
Zafir fought like nothing I’d ever seen before, using his feet just as agilely as he used his hands, lashing out in powerful, sweeping chest kicks. He incapacitated several men before they learned to watch out for the rib-crushing maneuver.
“Help them,” I whispered, but Max just turned to look at me over his shoulder, his brows raised.
“I won’t leave you again,” he vowed. “Besides, they’re doing just fine on their own.”
A guard holding a sword to Claude’s throat was disarmed effortlessly when Zafir lunged behind him and wrapped a thick arm around his neck. After about twenty seconds, the man dropped to the ground like a sack of flour.
It was then that I saw Xander. He was assaulted by two men at once, caught offguard when one of the men pulled a dagger from his belt and sliced Xander’s arm. Blood oozed from the wound, and Xander dropped his blade, instinctively Jo
g qively Jclosing his fingers around the injury. The guard with the knife sneered, positioning his weapon at Xander’s neck.
I saw the muscles in Max’s jaw clench.
“Go!” I urged in a rough whisper, and that was all it took.
Max sprang forward, crashing into the armed guard and knocking him to the ground. The sound of the man’s skull hitting the solid floor rippled through the air, echoing off the walls. His eyes rolled backward in his head.
Before Max was all the way to his feet again, his elbow was already smashing into the face of the other man, the second attacker who threatened his brother. The man tried to remain upright, but he wobbled, and then crumpled, his legs failing him.
“Enough!” The commander’s voice bellowed against my ear, as he grabbed me from behind, and I wondered where he’d come from, how he’d managed to sneak up on me. But before I could react—move or even breathe—the steel of his blade found the hammering pulse hidden within my throat.
Xander was the first to turn, followed quickly by Zafir and Claude, and then Max, who looked so furious—his entire body quivering with rage—that I worried for the commander myself.
“Now, we’re all going to move calmly and orderly,” the man stated, wrapping his arm tightly around my chest as he prompted me to take a step forward. “The queen is waiting for us.”
XXII
There were now at least thirty of the queen’s guards in all, although only one of them was armed with a combat rifle like those carried by the soldiers and guards who were stationed throughout the Capitol. Even the resistance fighters favored guns over blades. Yet here, in the queen’s palace, I saw mostly hand-to-hand weapons, like knives, daggers, bows, and double-edged broadswords; it was an antiquated way to fight.
I glanced around at all four of the men who’d come to escort me. They were covered in blood—although mostly it wasn’t their own. All were being held at knifepoint.
The steel edge pressed deeper into my flesh. “Eyes ahead,” the commander hissed.
I wanted to tell him to go to hell, but mine wasn’t the only neck on the line.
My heart leaped into my throat as we approached the huge gilded doors in a hallway that was wider than any room I’d ever been in, and taller than my entire home.
I was finally going to meet the queen.
The doors were opened by footmen who bent low at the waist as we passed. And despite the blood rushing noisily through my ears, my eyes swept the enormous room, taking in the high ceilings, the rich tapestries, and an ornate fireplace that took up nearly an entire wall. Royalty, it seemed, spared itself no luxury.
Even though summer approached, a fire blazed in a massive hearth that was framed by an enormous carved mantelpiece.
But my heart plummeted once more as my eyes fell upon the throne, and I wondered if this was yet another distraction, a new place to keep us captive. There was no one awai Ks n>
I couldn’t stop myself from wondering where my parents were at this moment, how close they were to the place in which I now stood. I clung to the hope that their prison was as lavish as mine had been, but I worried that the fate they’d suffered had been less than extravagant.
The thought that they’d been used, pawns in the queen’s game, made my stomach ache and made me all the more apprehensive about meeting her.
But we didn’t have to wait long, and Her Majesty’s arrival came with all the fanfare I would have expected of a queen. However, if I’d expected a regal woman who could storm the room and exert dominance by her very presence, I’d been sorely mistaken. The queen could no more storm the room than she could walk into it of her own accord.
I certainly hadn’t expected to see an old woman being wheeled to her place at the throne.
She looked shriveled and frail, this woman who commanded a queendom, the body she wore betraying her, withering around her.
At her arrival, all the guards restraining us took a step back, yet not one of us moved. I was astonished, then, when everyone in the room, including Xander—leader of the revolutionaries, grandson to the queen—and Max bowed down in her presence, despite the fact that she’d just taken them both as prisoners. I followed suit, and remained there until I was told otherwise.
Xander had warned me not to be fooled by her outward appearance, but it was difficult not to overlook her weakness. The queen was an elderly woman who could no longer carry her own weight from one place to another. It was nearly impossible to believe that she was as merciless as I had been led to believe.
Until the sound of her voice cut through the room, and the crystal clarity of it belied her delicate physical state. “Rise,” she commanded, not a quiver to be heard. Her opaque eyes fixed on me as I lifted my head. I counted silently as I drew in air, exhaling to quell my trembling nerves. “Come closer, Charlaina Di Heyse.”
The surname she spoke meant nothing to me, just a name from a history book. It felt strange to hear it leaving her lips and finding its place beside the name my parents had given me.
I stood, my legs quivering beneath me.
I thought Max would remain where he was, rooted to his spot until he was ordered to do otherwise. There were still rules to obey, despite the unusual circumstances surrounding our meeting, and as far as I knew, he was still a prisoner. We all were.
But instead he moved to stand beside me, a prince at home in a castle. He laced his fingers through mine.
I have a purpose, I reminded myself once again. My family is counting on me.
The air around me smelled of a fire’s smoke and a queen’s power as her lips drew back from her teeth in a startling attempt to smile. I couldn’t tell if it was meant to depict good humor or if she was mocking me, and her voice didn’t make my assessment any clearer. “So you are the girl who has turned my country upside down.” Her pale eyes looked dead already but felt as if they were boring right through me. She ignored Max’s presence at my side.
heountry updth="1em">I flinched from her statement. “No, Your Majesty.” I wondered what sort of answer she’d expected. But from the tightening of her lips, I recognized immediately that I had misspoken. “I—I certainly didn’t mean to.”
“Of course you didn’t, my dear. But you have.” Her use of the Royal tongue was deliberate, and I realized that she knew I understood her.
Max squeezed my hand, a gesture of encouragement as he tried to intervene. “You can’t do this,” he stated to his grandmother, his voice low and steady. “You can’t hold her hostage. She’s not property to be bargained with. She can’t be forced to take the throne.”
I waited for the queen to answer him, but instead she stared blankly at my face, memorizing me as if she’d never heard Max speaking at all. I felt myself wanting to recoil from her chalky gaze. “I’ve searched for so long. . . .” Her voice faded, drifting off, before finding its way once more. “You’ll make a good queen. So strong. So lovely.”
“But what if I don’t want
to be queen?”
I thought she’d raise her voice, berate me in anger. I didn’t expect her to smile. “It’s not up to you, child. It never has been.”
Xander stepped forward then. He’d torn one of his sleeves from his shirt and tied it around his wounded arm. Blood still soaked through. He moved to stand in front of both me and Max, as if he’d listened to enough.
Hostility split the air as the two of them stared at each other, and I wondered how long it had been since they’d been face-to-face like this. The silence between them was palpable, and in that moment, I felt that Xander was in more danger than the rest of us.
It was the queen who spoke first, her voice low and menacing. “How dare you show your face in my home? What
right do you have to stand before me?”
Xander’s voice belied the bitterness that was etched across his scarred face. “Grandmother,” he bowed comically—mockingly. He spoke in Englaise, an obvious jab at his royal heritage. “Always a pleasure.”
“Don’t ‘grandmother’ me, you insolent brat. I’m your queen, and you’ll show me the respect I deserve while you stand within these walls.” Her eyes grew glassy. “There was a time I would have done anything for you,” she said in a tone that neared affection. The way she spoke to him, the way her voice dropped, made me think she’d forgotten that it wasn’t just the two of them, that she wasn’t having a private conversation with her grandson, but rather a public discussion with the man hell-bent on destroying her. “My sweet Alexander, you were the only boy I’ve ever truly cared about.” She closed her eyes, permitting herself a moment with her memories. And again, I saw a weakened woman before me.
Xander grinned. “You won’t be my queen for long. Charlie will never agree to your terms. She won’t accept your Essence.”
She opened her eyes just a sliver, and then she cackled, a sound eerily similar to laughter escaping her thin lips. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”seeheight/em>
At last, a grim smile settled over her face. She spoke not to Xander, or to me, but to the guard at her side. “Bring in the prisoners.”