The Complete Madion War Trilogy

by S. Usher Evans

  "Here. Give this to them if you're so worried."

  The bag was cold in my hands, the bread inside icy. "I can't give them frozen food."

  "If you have a problem with it, take it up with your father-in-law."

  I made a noise and pushed past her, marching toward the oven. I supposed if I wanted anything done, I'd have to do it myself. Unsurprisingly, Kader joined me to help me work the oven, and together, we managed to fill up two large baking trays with the frozen bread.

  I stood with my arms crossed over my chest, a frown on my face.

  "I know this isn't getting to you," Kader said quietly. "You've been in a bad mood since we left the castle. What's wrong?"

  "Galian's being a dick."

  He chuckled. "Galian, huh? You must really be steamed."

  "Remember all that shit he said on the island? About how we were going to do this together?" I motioned to the kitchen. "Well? Where the hell is he?"

  "Have you talked to him about it?"

  "This morning. He said he was couriering messages." I snorted. "I think he just doesn't want to be around Emilie."

  "Is any of this behavior surprising?" Kader asked. "He's Galian. The only time he's ever compelled to do anything outside his comfort zone is where you're involved."

  "Yeah, well..." I smirked. "He's about to see what happens when I'm not involved."

  "Right now, you need to focus," Kader said, glancing at the kitchen staff, who were back to playing cards on the other side of the kitchen. "This was a smart move, wanting to pass out food. You'll be able to talk with the Ravens without looking too suspicious."

  "So there's someone I need to meet today?"

  "He's wearing a yellow shirt. Be brief and let him know you want to meet with Anson again now that things have changed. Don't linger, especially with that Zygmont woman out there. She'll start digging if she thinks there's anything worth reporting."

  The oven dinged, and we pulled out the bread, which was still hard and cold, but at least not completely frozen. Kader helped me put them into a large basket, and then, with a nod, he sent me out into the main room.

  First, I searched for the yellow-shirted man, who I found almost immediately. Unlike the rest of the refugees, he seemed to be exactly where he wanted and held my gaze confidently. Conscious of appearing too interested in him, I began handing out bread to those in the room.

  As Kader had said, Zygmont's attention zeroed in on me, even as the queen engaged her in conversation. So to keep up appearances, I focused on the children in the room, smiling and asking them about themselves. None of the photographers took photos of it, but I soon forgot about them. For the first time in what felt like months, I was helping my fellow Ravens.

  Unfortunately, this sentiment wasn't shared by anyone over the age of ten, as they refused to acknowledge me or take food. I heard them mumble unsavory things about me, so I kept moving. I told myself one day they'd know the truth, and I might be vindicated.

  I approached the yellow-shirt man last, offering him bread. "How long have you been over here?"

  "Long enough to know not to take bread from a treasonous bitch."

  I let it roll off my shoulders. "I had nothing to do with Grieg and Bayard's plan, you know." Narrowing my eyes, I added, "And if Anson thinks otherwise, he's an idiot."

  "Don't matter if you knew or didn't know. You're playing along now."

  "Sometimes you have to play nice with vile people if you want to get anything accomplished," I replied, forcing a smile onto my face as I caught Korina's eye. "My end game hasn't changed. A free and independent Rave."

  "My advice?" He took a bite of the bread. "Stick to screwing your Kylaen fiancé and leave the revolution to the revolutionaries."

  Then, before I could react, he spat the bread in my face.

  The reaction was swift—Kader had me away from him, a few of the guards cornered the man and cuffed him, Korina and Zygmont rushed over to see what the commotion was. Lights flashed as the photographers finally found something interesting to record for posterity.

  The news anchor looked like her birthday had come early, as she twiddled her pen between her fingers. "Well, I daresay not everyone's pleased about the wedding, hm?"

  "Some people just don't know what's best for them," Korina said, refusing to catch my eye. "Please ensure that man is reminded what happens when you disrespect a member of the royal family."

  "She ain't a royal yet, bitch, and won't be if Anson has anything to say about it!"

  "Enough," Kader said. "Get him out of here."

  As the royal security took the man away, I caught the eye of a child who'd taken bread from me not five minutes before. And my heart broke when he tossed his half-eaten food in the trash.

  Galian

  I'd been married for less than three days and already my wife was mad at me. She had every right to be; I was basically ditching her to go to work.

  If I were being honest, it was because staying around the castle reminded me of all the things left to do. We had a war to stop, a treaty to fix, and...well, when Theo and I were in my room, I could forget all about that. I had my wife. We were getting our happily ever after. And though she was worried for her country, I was too firmly in wedded bliss to care.

  That was, until I watched a yellow-shirted man spitting bread into her face on television and saw the horrified, lonely look on her face. She needed me, and I wasn't there for her. Some husband I'd turned out to be.

  Immediately, I called for a car back to the castle. I peppered Snyder with questions about what had happened, who'd done it, what had gone so wrong, but he had no answers to give. And as I ascended the stairs to my bedroom, I knew she was already angry with me for leaving her. How badly would I have to grovel to get her to forgive me now?

  I found her sitting against the pillows, wearing one of my old shirts with tear stains on her face.

  "I came as soon as I saw it," I said, crawling across the bed to her. "Are you okay?"

  "They hate me," she whispered against my skin. "The refugees. They hate me. Anson hates me. The world hates me."

  "But I love you."

  "Do you?" she asked, staring at her hands. "You haven't been doing a good job of showing it lately."

  She had me there. "I am so sorry," I said, hoping it sounded sincere. "I could sit here and make excuses but...I'm just sorry. I'll do better. I'll take leave from the hospital. You aren't doing this alone."

  "You said that before."

  "I mean it this time," I said, hating myself for letting her down.

  She sniffed and wiped her face. "I thought things would be different, but it all feels the same. Everyone's making decisions for me. Everyone's speaking for me. When do I get to talk?"

  I laughed and leaned back against the bed, pulling her to my chest. "There's an insistent reporter who wants to interview me."

  "I think I met her today," Theo said with a snort. "She didn't like me very much. Then again, no one did."

  "They just need to get to know you. Fall in love with you like I did." I kissed the top of her forehead. "Amichai, I am so sorry that I wasn't there for you today. I want to make it up to you."

  "I'm not sleeping with you."

  I had to laugh. "I deserved that. But why don't I call downstairs and get us a big, greasy burger and fries and a couple of beers?"

  She sat up and pursed her lips. "That sounds amazing, actually."

  "Consider it done." I cupped her cheek and brushed my thumb against the wet skin. "You and me, amichai. From here on out. I promise I'm not going to let you do this alone anymore."

  TWENTY-ONE

  Theo

  The next morning, Galian called Dr. Maitland and asked for a few days' leave. It made me feel marginally better, although I still didn't trust that he would stay true to his word. Rhys had come to visit us around midnight, and informed us that the event in the slums hadn't been sanctioned by Grieg, and he'd been very angry about me being let out without his permission. I could only ima
gine how angry he would be when he read the long, complimentary piece Zygmont wrote in the paper about how I was handing out food to children.

  "She's buttering you up," Galian said, tossing the paper down in front of our breakfast. "She wants you to think she's on your side, then she'll roast you live on camera."

  "But we're not going to be live on camera any time soon... Right?"

  He smiled. "Not unless you want to be."

  I shook my head.

  "Good morning, good morning!" Emilie bustled through the door, a bright smile on her face and clothes bag in her hand. "'neechai, I have a big surprise for you today."

  I shared a look with my husband. "What kind of surprise?"

  "Oh, wouldn't you like to know?" She handed me the bag with a bright grin. "Put that on and both of you meet me downstairs. Today's going to be very exciting."

  I unzipped the bag and froze. It was my old Kylaen flight suit—complete with the major's gold star. "What the hell is this?"

  "Hurry up! Hurry up!"

  Perplexed and a little concerned, I dressed quickly and joined my amichai in the car downstairs. Yet again, Kader was at the wheel, but his expression didn't give me much confidence. Nothing could've prepared me for what I saw when we drove into one of the hangars at a nearby Kylaen airfield.

  "You have got to be kidding me," I gasped, my mouth falling open.

  There she was, in all of her glory. My girl—the Raven plane I'd flown for seven years. Or a model similar to it. Sitting in the hangar of the Kylaen air base, pristine and beautiful.

  "Are you pleased?" Emilie asked, getting out of the car. "I think she's pleased, Your Highness."

  I didn't want to be. Much like the morning breakfast which I'd become accustomed to, and the silky sheets, and sleeping with my Kylaen husband, a part of me hated how much I really wanted to fly that plane.

  "Welcome to your first bullshit appearance for this treaty you hate so much," Rhys said, walking up next to us. He looked about as enthusiastic as Galian did. He noticed Emilie's scowl and clarified, "My apologies. Your first appearance for the treaty."

  Emilie seemed satisfied and pressed her familiar binder to her chest. "If you'll excuse me, I've got to speak with the media outlets about the plan for today."

  "You guys can't be serious," I said, leaning into Galian as he wrapped an arm around my waist. "You want me to go fly this thing around Norose? Get my photo taken next to it?"

  "Be sure to smile, kallistrate."

  Whatever good mood I'd been fighting evaporated when Mark Cannon strolled around the other side of the plane. I hadn't seen that son of a bitch since he'd sentenced me to death and put me in that plane, but he wore the same smug, conceited expression as if he had all the answers and I was just some dumb kid he toyed with.

  "I suppose you're responsible for this farce?" I snapped.

  "Your future father-in-law," Cannon said, placing a loving hand on the hull of my ship. "And Emilie, of course. We'd like to show the world that Kylae will let Rave live in peace."

  "You mean you want to distract them while Kylae enslaves us again," I snarled at him.

  "Semantics," Cannon said with a flippant shrug that made my blood boil.

  "Fuck your semantics. Don't you care about what's happening to your own people?" Galian asked, and I felt a surge of affection for him.

  "Is that any way to address a vice provincial governor?" Cannon asked.

  "Tell me how much power you have in the cabinet, and we'll talk."

  "More than you, princeling, I assure you. President Bayard sent me here to make sure Major Kallistrate represents our province with all the professionalism she displayed while on active duty."

  I narrowed my eyes. "Bayard's not here?"

  "No." Something about the way he shifted said there was more to the story than he was letting on. My experience with Bayard was that he never let a good photo opportunity go to waste. So why was he sending Cannon to represent him at such an overtly Raven event? Especially if the idea was to show how well Kylae and Rave were getting along.

  "I won't do it," I said, folding my arms across my chest. "You can't make me fly this thing and, you can't force me to participate."

  "I thought you might say that," Cannon said. "So Bayard told me to offer you a deal: If you go show us your flying skills like a good little kallistrate, then I'll secure the pardon for your friend, the chief mechanic."

  My blood ran cold. "L-Lanis?"

  "Who?" Galian said looking down at me.

  "The mechanic who helped your fiancée escape Rave all those months ago. While you've been eating roasted beef and getting serviced by your prince, he's been sitting in a cold jail cell. All alone. Wondering why you haven't come for him yet."

  I knew he was playing my emotions, but it worked. For all I knew, Lanis could've been dead, or worse. And knowing I'd put searching for him aside sent a knife straight to my gut.

  "But, if you do what I say, and show all those photographers out there just how you survived seven years in the military, I'll make sure he's in the front row at your wedding."

  "I'd like a word." Galian's voice cut through the storm of emotions in my head and, before I could respond, he was guiding me away from Cannon's gleeful face.

  "That guy's an ass," Rhys said, as he and Galian stood in front of me, blocking Cannon from my view.

  "Amichai," I said, placing a hand over my mouth. "Lanis...I can't... Can't we do something? Lanis took care of me. He's in jail because of me. I can't...I can't let him stay there." I chewed my lip.

  "We'll send word to Johar," Rhys said. "If he's been incarcerated, we'll pull some strings and get him out. I promise you. After all..." He cringed. "We own the country now."

  "But Anson—"

  Rhys waved his hand. "Let Mom and me worry about him. Regardless of what Cannon says, we both think it's a good idea for you to do this."

  "Why?"

  "Because Father wants you to," Rhys said. "And we need to prove to him that you two are playing nice, if only so he'll let you continue to move unrestricted. We'd rather you lose some ground with Anson than get pulled from the game completely."

  The familiar uneasy feeling blossomed in my gut. When I'd been in Bayard's team, I'd faced much the same quandary. Do something I disliked in order to gain favor with the man in charge for the greater good. It hadn't worked out so well for me then, and it was hard for me to see how it would work out any better now.

  "Let me have a minute with her, will you?" Galian said to his brother, who nodded and went to join Kader on the other side of the hangar.

  "Amichai, I don't know what to do. Anson already thinks I'm a traitor. Flying around in this thing? That'll just confirm it."

  "Well, you have a choice," he said. "Either you fly the plane and risk that Anson won't be willing to listen when you talk to him again, or you don't, and Father won't let you out of the castle to even attempt it."

  I winced. "Do you think he'd do that?"

  "Yup."

  I closed my eyes and leaned into his chest. "Do you know what the worst thing is? I really want to fly the plane. I haven't flown in a plane like this since before the island. I miss it, you know? It was who I was, what I did for almost half my life."

  "I know. I saw your face when you walked into the hangar," he said with a chuckle. "And I remember how angry you were at me when I destroyed your plane."

  So did I. "Did I ever apologize for that?"

  "I'm sure you did." He rubbed my back comfortingly. "Look, forget all this shit with Lanis, forget Anson. Forget that dick Cannon even. Get in that plane and fly it like you've never flown before. Go enjoy yourself. Remember? We're trying to find normal."

  I tilted my head up. "None of this is normal."

  "You in a plane? Seems pretty normal to me." He tightened his hold around me as I laughed, unwillingly. "I mean it. We don't get a lot of wins anymore. And if this convinces Father to ease up...and puts a smile on your face, well, I don't see how that's a bad thing."


  My attention snagged on a man on the side of the hangar. At first glance, I thought he was part of the Raven ground crew, presumably. But then, as we locked gazes, he tapped his chest.

  Once for Rave.

  Twice for traitors.

  "Galian," I whispered, turning back to my amichai. "I think..." But when I glanced back at where he'd been, no one was there.

  "What is it?"

  "N-nothing."

  Galian

  Theo had seemed spooked, but if we were going to stay ahead of public opinion, she needed something new for her image. Although I hadn't mentioned it to her, everyone except Zygmont was talking about the bread-spitting incident.

  "They're just ripping into her," Rhys said, as we ascended the stairs to the radar tower. "I'm glad she agreed to do this."

  "Me too." But not solely because of the press. Theo needed a little fun in her life.

  When we entered the radar tower, Rhys took his position at his normal desk, and I sat beside him, glancing at the others manning the station. Some of them wore disgruntled expressions, although they kept their comments to themselves, thankfully.

  The phone in the tower rang and the young sergeant nodded to Rhys, who turned on the microphone.

  "Theo, this is Radar Tower One Two Six. You're cleared for take-off."

  "Fantastic."

  Pride swelled in my chest as the plane engines roared to life. I'd never actually seen Theo fly (other than when she shot me out of the sky), and I was a little excited to see her in action. She was back where she belonged—in the air.

  The plane rolled down the runway, picking up speed then taking off gently. I considered how easy it would be for her to keep going all the way to Rave and beyond.

  "You don't think she's going to fly away, do you?" I asked, reaching into my pocket to finger my ring nervously.

  Rhys snorted and offered me a wry glance. "Are you that bad a hus...fiancé?"

  The plane circled the air field, gaining altitude, and her grainy voice came through the speakers. "How far can I go?"