overwhelm me, can blame such wanting on my mother.
But who can he blame?
And somehow everyone calls me the monster.
I’m not surprised by it. Cal walks in a light I’ll never find.
Iris is always going on and on about her gods, and sometimes I believe they must be real. How else is my brother still living, still smiling, still a constant threat to me? He must be blessed, by someone or something. My only consolation is knowing I’m right about him, and always will be. Right about Mare too. I poisoned her enough, tainted her enough. She’ll never tolerate another king, not for any amount of love. And Cal has discovered that firsthand, another gift of mine across the miles between us.
I only wish I’d figured out a way to keep that strange newblood, the one who bridged a connection between Mare and me. But the risk was too great, the reward too small. An obliterated base for the chance to speak with her again? It was a foolish trade, and even for her, I wouldn’t make it.
But I wish I could.
She’s out there across the waves, somewhere in the city along the distant, crimson coast. Alive, obviously. Or else we would know it. Even though it’s only been a few hours, the death of the lightning girl would not be a secret for long. The same goes for my brother. They survived. The thought makes my head pound.
Harbor Bay was a logical choice for Cal, but the Red tech slum was obviously Mare’s own brainchild. She is so married to her cause, and all her red-blooded pride. I should have predicted she would go after New Town. It’s sad, really, to know that her cause relies on people like Cal, his sneering grandmother, and the Samos traitors. None of them will give her what she wants. It will only end in bloodshed. And probably her own death, when all is done.
If only I had kept her closer. A better guard, a tighter leash. Where would we be now? And where would I be if Mother could have removed her from me, as she removed Father and Cal? I can’t say. I don’t know. It hurts my head to wonder.
I look down the deck, at the soldiers manning the ship. She might have been beside me, if not for a few missteps. The wind in her hair, her eyes shadowed and sunken, wasted by the manacles keeping her tethered to me. An ugly sight, but still beautiful.
At the very least, she is still alive. Her heart still beats.
Not like Thomas.
I wince as his name crosses my thoughts. Mother couldn’t remove him either. Not the agony of his loss, nor the memory of his love.
That future is gone, killed, chased out of existence.
A dead future, that horrible newblood seer used to call it. I think Jon was my tormentor more than I was his jailer. Clearly he could have left whenever he wanted, and whatever he accomplished in my palace is still budding fruit. Again I look out to the water, to the east this time, over a vast and endless ocean. The emptiness should calm me, but two early stars hang above the waves. The bright, cheerful lights offend me too.
Queen Cenra’s ship is easy to spot as we sail closer. The waves beside it are calm, almost still, a flat quelling of water. Her ship hardly rocks, even this far from land.
The Lakelander ships aren’t as sleek as ours. Our manufacturing capabilities are better than those in the Lakelands, thanks in very large part to the tech slums that Mare is intent on destroying.
Even with her ships and my own, our guns are few, and anything we might use against the city will certainly meet resistance from magnetrons and newbloods, if not my foul brother himself. Only the Harbor Bay battleship, Iris’s for now, has any kind of artillery that could be of use this far out.
I glare at it, the steel craft anchored alongside Cenra’s ship. It casts a long, jagged shadow, planted firmly between the Lakelander queen and the coast. My scheming queen is using it as a shield. A very expensive shield.
I growl to myself as I board her ship, careful to keep my feet when I step from one deck to the next. My own Sentinels flank me as we walk, too close for comfort. I keep my hands at my sides, ungloved, fingers bare in threat.
“This way, Your Majesty,” a single Lakelander says, beckoning from