The Queen of All that Dies Page 37
I back away from him and grab the handle of the door. “I’ll think about what you’ve said.”
“Do.”
“Bye Will.”
He tips his head. “Goodbye my future queen.”
As soon as the aircraft leaves the ground, the king’s men relax. Not completely, but they’re not encircling me the same way they had been when they picked me up in the bunker’s garage.
One of them has my gun; he took it off of me when they patted me down for weapons. I keep my eye on him. I will kill for that gun. It’s the last piece of my father I have.
I glance out my window and watch my homeland get smaller and smaller. This high in the sky, the land looks beautiful. You wouldn’t know that the earth is poisoned with radiation, and its people are desperate, scavenging things.
I don’t know when I’ll be back here, if ever. It feels like a final goodbye. There’s nothing much that I’m leaving—a few final friends, my past, my old way of life.
I can feel the wary stares of the king’s men. Their animosity practically rolls off of them; I meet their gazes and give them each a slow, predatory smile. It pleases me to see the lines on their faces deepen. They’ve either seen me kill their comrades, or they’ve been warned.
It takes me a few minutes to realize that I’m causing them pain to feel better about my own. Once I do, I close my eyes and lean my head against the window and let myself nod off to sleep.
The sensation of falling wakes me up. I look out my window and see the rosy light of dawn as the jet makes its descent. When I look down at the scenery, I suppress a gasp. Small islands dot the blue expanse of ocean.
“Where are we?”
No one answers me. Big surprise.
As the aircraft descends and we draw closer to the small islands, the scenery comes into focus. It’s not quite arid, but not quite tropical either.
A larger landmass looms in the horizon. I know in my gut this is my destination. The jet passes over it and circles back. I can see a small airstrip ahead of us. And then we’re landing.
Once the aircraft coasts to a stop, I stand, ignoring the way the guards tense as they fall into form around me. The sick part of me enjoys how skittish they are.
The engine dies, and the jet’s stairway is lowered. The guards ahead of me begin to move, and I follow them out. This is the second time I’ve arrived on enemy soil. And it is still that. To everyone else, the war might’ve ended, but it never will for me. Not so long as I live with the king.
This moment reminds me of a story my dad told me a long time ago. There was once an ancient battle, fought for ten years. The Trojan War. At the close of it, the Greeks, on the edge of defeat, surrendered and left in their place a huge wooden horse—a gift to their victorious enemies, the Trojans. Little did the Trojans know that waiting inside the wooden beast were Greek soldiers.
The Trojans brought the horse into their walls and celebrated their victory long into the night. Once the Trojan citizens had all drunk themselves into a stupor and gone to bed, the Greek soldiers left the horse and slaughtered the enemy. They won the war this way.
The king has only demonstrated his excellent talent for destroying things, but scant few at rebuilding the world. And now that the war is over, he’s let the enemy into his house.
Perhaps Will is right and the king needs to be destroyed once and for all. I smile grimly. Perhaps I will be his Trojan horse.
Chapter 13
Serenity
A small group of people wait for my arrival off to the left of the jet. Judging by how small the crowd is, I’m guessing the king has kept quiet about my bloody escape. I wouldn’t be surprised if the world thought I’d never left the king’s side.
The guards lead me towards a limo. As they do, my eyes drift back to the small gathering that watches me. The crowd shifts, and my steps falter. The king stands in the middle of them, dressed impeccably in a suit. Our eyes lock, and a small sound escapes from me. The sight of him splits open the wound I’ve been carrying inside myself.
I veer towards him. My guards are on me in an instant. Their hands wrap around my arms and pull me back. I push against them, my legs buckling.
The king approaches me slowly, his face unreadable.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” I scream.
The king stares unwaveringly at me, but I could’ve sworn for a moment something like shame passed through those dark eyes of his.
“You killed him!” His face blurs as tears form. Emotionally, I’ve regressed back to the day I escaped. “You can’t have me Montes! Not ever!”
“My king,” a voice near me says, “should we administer the sedative?”
“I will never forgive you!” I shriek. “You hear me? Never!”
“I think that would be best.” The king’s voice glides over me like the smoothest silk. He’s not even listening.
Someone extends my arm, and I buck against them. They drop their hands, and I elbow the guard behind me. He makes an oomph noise, and his grip loosens. I use the opportunity to wrench my arm free, and I slug the guard closest to me.
That’s as far as I get. The rest of the king’s guards close in and grab me, lowering my body to the ground. I thrash against them, but it’s useless. They pin me down.
I’m sobbing horrible, heart-wrenching cries.
“Serenity, it’s going to be okay,” the king says from above me. I can feel his hands brushing my hair from my face.
I want to slap them away. I want to tell him to stop being nice when he’s so evil. Instead I continue to sob.