The Complete Madion War Trilogy

by S. Usher Evans

  "Keep it within the confines of the air field," Rhys said, before turning off the microphone. "Are you two mind-readers or something? Just disgusting."

  "You'll find your queen one day," I said, elbowing him gently.

  "For my sake, I hope she's half as exciting as your wife."

  From the my vantage point, I spotted the photographers lined up along the edge of the runway, their flashes visible even from up here. Somewhere down there, my father was watching the spectacle, as was that bastard Cannon.

  "Do you think it's weird Cannon's here and not Bayard?" I asked, hoping the question was innocuous enough not to draw attention.

  Rhys glanced at me then shook his head. "I hear he's helping Minister Gren get settled in Rave."

  I swallowed. Three of the twelve ministers gone. Three doves. "Who are the new ministers?"

  "Don't you read the papers?" Rhys said with a glance behind me. But he knew as well as I did that the reassignment of the ministers hadn't been mentioned except for a small note in the very back.

  "Theo and I read it every morning, thank you very much," I said, watching the glint of metal in the sky with my wife in it.

  "Yeah, I hear from your guards how much you read the paper. You two make me sick," Rhys said, swiping the microphone. "Hey, Theo. How you doing?"

  "...Fine."

  "Question for you. What's better: flying or my brother?"

  There was a long pause of just static.

  "Theo? You there?"

  "I'm thinking."

  A loud chorus of 'oohs' echoed from the radar tower, and I marched forward, yanking the microphone away from Rhys. "Ouch, Theo."

  "I love you?"

  "Nice try."

  I handed the radio back to Rhys, who seemed to find the whole thing funny. I just wished the next time he wanted to change the subject to avoid eavesdropping, he'd leave our sex life out of it. Between him and Emilie, far too many people were making fun of our bedroom activities.

  I sat back in my chair and watched the plane zoom this way and that, doing a few loops and fast turns. Theo was actually a pretty good pilot—not that I was any kind of expert in it.

  "Okay, Theo, that's good. Come on in," Rhys said after she'd done a few aerial moves. "I think these idiots have enough footage of you to last a lifetime."

  "Copy that."

  The aircraft zoomed away before turning and descending toward the airfield. But just as her plane neared the runway, her engines roared to life and she shot back into the sky and I nearly fell off my chair at just how close she'd come to skimming the concrete runway.

  "That was a little too scary, Theo," Rhys said, sharing a glance with me. "You scared your poor fiancé—"

  "Rhys, the landing gear is stuck."

  My heart stopped beating. "What did she say?"

  "Theo, repeat that?"

  Her voice had taken on a note of fear. "The landing gear won't come down. I'll try it again, but..."

  "Can you get it on the ground safely?" Rhys asked.

  There was a too-long pause. "I'm going to take it down as easily as I can."

  "Fuck!" I was out of the chair in an instant, dashing down the staircase of the air tower two-by-two, visions of a fiery crash filling my mind. Her bleeding out on the island, the paleness of her skin, the explosion of her plane when I'd shot a flare into it. I burst out of the air tower door just as her plane hit the far edge of the runway.

  The plane skidded, the screech of metal-on-concrete piercing. I ran toward the wreckage as it slowed then stopped. Theo didn't seem to be moving, so I hopped on top of the craft and kicked open the glass top. Her head tilted up and she stared at me from beneath her helmet, dazed, but otherwise seemingly unharmed. I unhooked her restraints and she wrapped her arms around me, allowing me to lift her out of the plane. Cradling her, I hopped off the wing and onto the safety of the ground, getting her away from the danger.

  Theo

  When my mind finally caught up with me, I was sitting in an ambulance, and Galian was pointing a flashlight into my eyes.

  "Follow my finger," he said, all business. I tracked the movement to his satisfaction, and he placed his hands on my cheeks, gently moving my head from side to side. "Does this hurt?"

  "No," I responded. "Amichai, I'm fine."

  "Not until I say you are," he said, humorlessly. "Any numbness or tingling?"

  Again, I shook my head. "I'm fine. No pain. I've gone through worse."

  "You'll feel it in the morning, maybe—"

  I took his hands into mine and kissed his fingertips. "I'm fine, I promise you."

  "So romantic, Your Highness," Cannon drawled, walking up. "Is this how you won her over on the island?"

  In response, Galian turned, reared back, and punched him square in the face. "What the fuck, man? Were you trying to kill her?"

  I blinked, shocked that my doctorly husband had that kind of fight in him. Cannon looked up from the ground, blood trickling down his face. "That wasn't my fault," he grunted, pushing himself upright.

  "He's right," I said, taking Galian's arm before he went after Cannon again. "It wasn't him. I saw...I think I saw a rebel in the hangar."

  Cannon's face melted into an expression of horror. "A r-rebel? Anson's rebels?"

  "Are you sure?" Galian asked.

  "I saw one of them before I took off. I thought I might've been...I didn't know that..." I closed my eyes and rubbed the sore spot on my forehead. "I just thought they were there to...I don't know."

  "You didn't think they'd be that pissed at you," Galian finished for me before glaring at Cannon. "Maybe they thought this asshole would be flying it."

  Cannon shook his head, rubbing his chin. "Damn Tedwin. Does your father know about the rebels? Is he doing anything to keep them out of this country?"

  Galian and I shared a look. "Why? Nervous they'll come after you?"

  "Damn. Damn!" Cannon began walking away.

  "Wait!" I called, pushing myself off the table and ignoring how it made my head hurt worse. "What about Lanis?"

  "You stupid girl. Who cares about him?" Cannon spat back. "If the rebels are in this country, both of us have a lot more to worry about than some stupid mechanic."

  "Cannon," I pressed. "Please, you have to release him—"

  Cannon sighed and rubbed his face. "We have no idea where he is. He left the country the same night he dropped you off in Rave."

  I released a loud breath, and couldn't even be angry that they'd tricked me. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

  Cannon snorted and kept walking, calling for his aides.

  "The rebels were able to get onto this base, to get to your plane," Galian said after a moment. "Theo, this is bad."

  I chewed my lip. "Maybe it wasn't a rebel. Or maybe your father sent him to make me think he was a rebel..."

  "You're right. This could've been anyone," Galian said, running a hand through his hair. "It would make a convenient story if the rebels were framed for killing you."

  Behind Galian, Rhys was jogging up to us. "Why does Cannon have a bloody nose?"

  Galian shrugged.

  "Look, you two had better get the hell out of here. The media's going crazy, and a group of protestors is starting to gather outside the base. I'm worried it's going to get bad, so Kader's already getting the car."

  We took the hint, and Galian led me to the waiting car, where Kader gave me a once-over, but said nothing. Galian and I settled into the backseat, where the beginnings of a headache formed between my brows. Closing my eyes, I snuggled into my husband's shoulder.

  But even without looking at him, I felt the tension in his body, so I lifted my head. His eyes were focused on a point in the distance, his jaw clenched. When I gently touched his cheek, he jumped as if he'd forgotten I was even there.

  "Amichai?" I asked quietly.

  "I almost lost you today, Theo," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  "Galian, this isn't... It's not the first time—"

  "It
's never been so..." He sighed deeply and finally met my gaze. "Theo, that was scary. And I just...I couldn't do anything to save you."

  "I'm fine—"

  "But what if you weren't?" he said, his voice thick with emotion. "What if I'd just gotten you back and I lost you for good? I don't know what I'd do." He swallowed and glanced at the top of the car, as if to keep his tears at bay.

  As one fell, I kissed it away. "Galian, we didn't make it this far—"

  "To be separated," he finished for me. "But people want you dead, Theo, and I can't... I'm not..."

  I pressed my lips to his. "I'm fine. And that's all we can worry about right now. We'll figure the rest out, okay?"

  He nodded, but the fear in his eyes remained. So I returned to my place in the crook of his neck and let him hold me until we reached the castle.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Galian

  Prince Galian Saves Blushing Bride-to-Be

  Aerial demonstration goes sour, Prince Galian rescues fiancée from burning wreckage

  "The plane isn't even on fire in this photo," I said, pointing to the newspaper in front of us.

  "That's not the point, 'neechai. Look at the concern. The love. That photo tells it all, don't you think?"

  Emilie had walked through the door at precisely nine with a bright smile on her face and flung the newspaper in our face.

  "I want to capitalize on this," she said. "I want to tell the world your story, although a carefully edited one. Up until now, the papers have mostly been speculating that this union was one of political strategy, but after this photo, well..." She grinned down at the image of Galian holding me. "Everyone can see this is a love story."

  "You aren't going to use this," I said, standing up. "It's one thing to lie to the people about this war, but our relationship isn't up for public debate."

  "Debate? Oh, Theo. I'm just asking you and him to go on camera and be your charming selves," Emilie said. "The hand-holding, the flirtatious smiles. The way you subconsciously lean into him when you're seeking support."

  "That's creepy," Galian said, stepping back.

  "No. I don't want to do it," I said, looking to Galian for guidance.

  "See? That's exactly the kind of Theo the people need to see," Emilie said. "Vulnerable. Sweet. The girl who won Prince Galian's heart."

  "Amichai," he said slowly. "Let's just think about it—"

  My eyes grew to the size of saucers, and I took a step back. "You can't be serious."

  "Emilie, give us a few minutes," Galian said, without breaking my gaze from me.

  "But—"

  "Out."

  Emilie gathered her things and shrugged. "I've got to speak with the queen regarding your engagement party anyway. But when I return, we will begin discussing your interview."

  The door hadn't even closed when I exploded. "There is no way in hell I'm going on camera to talk about us. You said that Zygmont woman was going to destroy me if she ever got me on camera."

  "I know, but that was before. Now everyone's interested in us, so it wouldn't be the best course of action for her to go negative. Besides that—just think about it. If we did an interview, we could talk about the war. About the treaty. Isn't that what you want?"

  "They're going to tell us what to say, and anything unflattering about Grieg or Bayard will get cut," I snapped.

  "There are still things we can do. Codes, phrases. That sort of thing. We can get our message out to the people."

  I folded my arms over my chest, staring at the ground. "I thought the reason we got married was to prevent people from screwing with us. This feels like the opposite of that."

  "Amichai," he said gently, "all we'd be doing is talking about ourselves—"

  "Exactly! I don't want to invite anyone else into our love. I want us to be...private."

  He sighed. "Please don't divorce me, but you married a prince. You don't get privacy. None of us do."

  "I didn't marry a prince, I married you," I said. "Despite your royal status."

  "Theo..." He sighed. "Fine. I won't ask you to do anything you're uncomfortable doing. And you're right, if we go on camera, we're inviting the public into our relationship, and that never ends well. But at the same time...this could be a great opportunity to change some minds. They're already talking about us as a couple, and not you getting bread spat in your face."

  "This just feels...disgusting to me," I said, rubbing my arms. "I feel like what we have is fragile."

  "Fragile?" He chuckled. "Theo, we lasted through four months of not talking then six months of not seeing each other for more than an hour. And you still married me. I'd say we're strong enough to withstand anything."

  "But it wasn't all good. We fight all the time..."

  "It's not about how little you fight, it's about how well you communicate after it." He slid his hands over my hips and pressed me to him. "Besides, I like fighting with you. Turns me on."

  "Stop it," I said, knocking his hands away. "Be serious."

  "Fine, I like fighting with you because you always press me to see another angle, another side. And it helps me strengthen my position." He grinned. "And I also think you're cute when you're angry. And that turns me on."

  "I think you've got a wire crossed in your brain, amichai." I smiled, even though I didn't quite feel it.

  He must've sensed my unease. "Look at me." He tilted my chin to meet his gaze. "If you don't want to do this, we won't. Emilie can figure out some other way to capitalize on this plane crash. Our relationship is off limits until you say otherwise."

  To that, I smiled for real. "Thank you, amichai."

  Galian

  Although I shared some of Theo's trepidation about the interview, I also knew that it was a golden opportunity. But I wasn't going to pressure her, even if I thought it was a good idea. Her nerves were already frayed enough from the crash and Anson. That had to explain why she thought our relationship was on the rocks when I thought it was stronger than ever.

  So, ignoring my own opinions, I firmly let Emilie know that we would not be participating in an interview, and used my princely powers to shut her down when she'd tried to argue about it.

  That had earned me a midmorning quickie, so I was well on my way to mending fences.

  Around two, Filippa stopped by to let us know Mom needed us to confirm some wedding planning details, which, I hoped, was just a cover to discuss the crash and the investigation.

  "First of all, are you all right, darling?" Mom asked, taking Theo's hand once Filippa had been sent away to talk with Rhys about something trivial.

  "Yeah, just a little sore," she replied, squeezing Mom's hand. "Do we have any clues about who sabotaged my plane? Was it...Anson?"

  "We haven't been able to locate the perpetrator," Mom replied with a frown. "With Johar in Rave, and Kader still recovering, we don't have that many men available to do a proper investigation. But the ones who are available are working their hardest. Thanks to your description of the man."

  "I shouldn't have gotten into that plane in the first place," Theo replied, before shaking her head. "Are we sure it's Anson and not Grieg? It wouldn't be the first time he tried to pass blame on someone else."

  "I don't see why that would be in his best interest," Mom replied. "You two have been playing along. He has nothing to gain by your death right now. Neither does Bayard."

  "Yeah, what's going on with Bayard?" I asked. "Why did he send Cannon in his place?"

  Mom picked up her tea, sipping lightly. "Because we believe Anson is in Kylae now. And Bayard's not convinced Grieg will keep him safe."

  Theo sucked in a breath. "Anson is here? Why?"

  "My guess is that he's found the increased Kylaen presence in Rave a bit dangerous," Mom replied. "We did, however, manage to get him a message that we want to talk strategy. He's willing to send one of his contacts to the hospital to speak with us."

  "That's fantastic," I said with a smile.

  But Theo didn't look happy, or relieved. I
f anything, she looked even more worried. "That's awfully...bold of him. Is Grieg aware?"

  "If he is, he considers him of little consequence," Mom replied. "Your father has focused all his energy into quelling the rebellion through brute force. He's moving fifty squadrons of planes—"

  "Fifty?" Theo gasped. "That's... Does he need that many?"

  "I don't know," Mom replied. "Even with Rave in complete turmoil, that's still overkill, especially considering that Kylaen aircraft are far superior to Raven."

  "How many planes are in a squadron?" I asked.

  "Twenty," Theo said. "At least, that's the size of a Raven squadron."

  My jaw fell. "He sent over a thousand planes?"

  "Is Kopec sharing any information about Grieg's plans?" Theo asked.

  "That's how we know about the fifty squadrons," Mom said. "We'll keep the pressure on her and others, but going against Grieg isn't palatable to most now." She shook her head. "But I don't want you to worry about that. Right now, your job is to meet with Anson's contact and try to convince him that you're on his side. Whatever Grieg is planning in Rave, we'll find out, and we'll address it."

  Theo

  "What could your father need with a thousand planes in Rave?" I asked, for what felt like the millionth time. It had been fairly easy to convince Emilie that I was feeling a little lightheaded and pained after my crash, and my amichai wanted to run some tests at the hospital to make sure everything was fine. The reprieve had been welcome, especially when Kader arrived with the car, because it gave us a chance to discuss the latest news in confidence.

  "He's already got the country, he's not going to kill everyone in it," Kader said. "And I doubt he'd send that many planes just to make a statement."

  "He could be escalating the war," Galian said, watching the buildings fly by. "Or putting on a show for Jervan and Herin."

  "That's an awful lot of troop movement for a show, amichai," I said. But so far, that seemed like the only logical explanation. "But why? He's got Rave, what could he gain by rattling his saber at Jervan and Herin?"