But this was huge, the chance I was taking. It wasn’t just my life, or Eden’s or Sabara’s lives on the line here. I was about to abandon my throne. I was leaving my country at a time when everything was topsy-turvy. That’s how it would seem at least, to those who didn’t understand that I was doing this not just for me but for them as well. Those who didn’t understand that my actions might be able to save everyone.

If I stayed, I feared I’d become so enmeshed with Sabara that soon there’d be no distinction as to where one of us started and the other ended.

Still, if I didn’t trust those I was leaving behind, I might never take the risk. But I did trust them. Max could handle things here, as could Brooklynn, and Zafir and Claude and my parents. Even Aron, when he returned, had learned a lot, and could manage the engineers and the communications’ installations on his own.

I could count on them to make the right choices for Ludania.

I only hoped Max would forgive me when I returned. Or, more important, if I returned. And if I didn’t, I prayed that Max would be okay, and that he wouldn’t seek retribution against the other queen, the one who’d summoned me with promises I hoped she could keep.

Things might have been different if I could have changed the past. If I could have gone back in time and commanded Xander to stay in Ludania in the first place, rather than traveling with Niko to Astonia to try to forge peace with Elena. I should’ve known not to trust her, and now here I was, leaving Max all alone.

My fingers curled into a fist, and I ran it over the door, exercising all my restraint to keep from going inside and climbing into his bed and staying there until morning. Eden and the whole plan be damned.

But I wouldn’t do that, because of the message Elena had delivered.

The message that implied there was a way out of my predicament.

V

I jumped when my door opened, and even though I’d been expecting her, seeing her standing there left me speechless. Sensing her mood was even more amazing.

Eden was electric.

It was like I was standing in the middle of a lightning field, and the best I could hope was that I wouldn’t be struck by a stray bolt coming off her.

She no longer looked like the same Eden I’d gone to see just one night ago, the same woman who before that had been shivering and screaming and dripping with sweat when I’d watched my little sister creep into her cramped, utilitarian room to calm her.

She’d shorn her hair and now half of it, on one side of her head, was cut all the way to her scalp, nearly shaved off. It was only somewhat longer, and spikier, around the top, the way it had been when I’d first encountered her, and then it fell to her chin on the other side. It was a lopsided style, but it was severe and made her look fierce. Like a soldier. Like the old Eden. And it was purple now too.

Not exactly what I’d call inconspicuous, I couldn’t help thinking. But I trusted Eden, so I didn’t give voice to those doubts. She knew what she was doing. It was why I’d gone to her in the first place.

“It’s time,” she thundered, not bothering to ask if I was ready or if we were still doing this, simply stating that we were leaving.

“What about the guard? The one outside the door?” I whispered, my voice shades lower than her own had been. “Already taken care of.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant, “Taken care of.” But again I put my faith in her. I grabbed the small bag I’d packed, a worn knapsack I’d brought with me when I’d first come to the palace, one that had belonged to me long before I’d been queen, when I’d been just another student in the vendors’ school. I’d packed only a few items, clothing meant to keep me warm, things I could travel in. I reached for the cloak Eden had insisted I wear, to cover my incessant glow.

It wasn’t until we were leaving my room, and I practically fell over a man’s prone legs, that I understood what Eden had meant about the guard.

I stared at the poor man, my eyes wide. “What? Is this what you meant?” I searched Eden. Her expression was stern and impassive, as she seemed to be oblivious to the man lying, unconscious, at our feet. She frowned as she waited for me to gather my wits and put together a complete sentence. “What did you do to him?” I finally managed.

She made a face at me, not one that said she was concerned for the guard’s well-being or remorseful for what she’d done, but one that made it clear that she took umbrage at my daring to question her methods. “What did you think? That I’d tell him our plans and he’d just step aside and let us get away scot-free? Surely you knew there’d be casualties in this little operation of yours, Your Majesty.”

“I—of course I knew there’d be casualties,” I sputtered, not really sure I’d considered the implications at all, but now that I was saying it, I knew she was right. “I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.”

“He’s fine. He’ll have a headache,” she told me, doing a poor job of concealing her eye roll about my distaste for her tactics. “But he’ll be fine.” I tried to remember the last time someone had dared to roll their eyes at me, and I realized the gesture didn’t offend me as much as it probably should have. It was refreshing, in a way, to be back on even ground with someone again.

Well, not on even ground, I thought as I stared down at the guard Eden had managed to level, and wondered what else she was capable of doing. I realized that once we left the palace and I abandoned my position as queen, I’d be infinitely more dependent on Eden than she would ever be on me. “We can’t just leave him here,” I insisted. “Come on. Help me drag him inside.” I opened the door to my room, making enough space to pull him through.