The Complete Madion War Trilogy

by S. Usher Evans

  That I would even have to look at my father made me sick to my stomach.

  "Finally, the bride," Filippa's gaze landed on Theo. "She will be escorted by Provincial Governor Bayard—"

  "What?" Theo was on her feet in an instant. "No fucking way."

  "My goodness!" Filippa said, blushing bright red and looking to the queen for guidance.

  "Theo, dear—"

  "No. No way," Theo said, on the verge of tears. "He sold out my country, and he destroyed my people. I don't want him in the same country as me, let alone touching me!"

  "Theo—"

  But that was her limit, and she let out a loud cry of anguish. I stood to hold her but she pushed me away. "I need...I need some air. I can't do this right now."

  Theo

  Everything was falling apart, and I couldn't stop it.

  I was to marry Galian in front of the world next week.

  Bayard would escort me as if he were my father.

  Johar was dead.

  My country was burning.

  How utterly ridiculous my life had become.

  And how utterly ridiculous that I'd let it get this far.

  I'd become complacent, too gun-shy after walking into one too many traps. And now, I felt the weight of every single Raven citizen who'd lost their lives in an unnecessary airstrike—and every life I'd seen snuffed out since I'd joined the Raven military.

  Galian and I had, yet again, allowed ourselves to become pawns in Grieg's game. We should've pressed harder against the live broadcast, dug a little deeper to figure out why he was giving us this golden opportunity. It was only to distract the country—yet again. And now, countless Ravens were dead. Johar was dead.

  Their ghosts pressed in on me, accusing me of not doing more. Of letting my fear of failure overpower my will to do anything but be a puppet. And I was tired of being a puppet; I wanted to be a master. There was nothing left to lose.

  When I'd first landed on the island, I'd considered my own mortality. I'd known that the Kylaens would be the ones to rescue us, and that they'd most assuredly put me to death when they did. I'd wondered if it would've been smarter to take my own life early, rather than let them do it. But I'd hesitated, holding aloft a small flame of hope that I could survive the island.

  Now, those same questions were haunting me. Grieg had proven, time and again, that we were outmatched against him. Whether through his spies, or his money or his power, we were ants in his grander schemes. There was no winning against him; there never had been any chance for us, even working together.

  I opened the doors of Galian's parlor, hoping to find peace, and instead I found...

  "'Neechai."

  Perfect. The very last person I wanted to see.

  "Emilie, I'm not in the mood for your lectures," I said, fearing she'd be cross with us for deviating from her carefully written script.

  "Lucky for you, neither am I," she replied, a hollowness in her voice I hadn't heard before.

  My anger subsided to curiosity. The papers cracked loudly as she flipped through them, her mouth pressed into a thin line. Her hair was pulled back, not the usual curled and silky texture. Her clothes were immaculate, but something about her was dulled.

  "We have seven days to prepare, so..."

  "Who died?"

  The pen jerked in her hand. "What?"

  "Did someone close to you die in the airstrike?"

  I'd seen it a hundred times before, when my lieutenants had lost a good friend in battle or due to poorly-maintained aircraft and had to get up and face another day. To put aside their own devastation for the greater good of the country.

  Her eyes flashed for a moment, and she returned to her binder. "There was no airstrike. Nothing's happening in Rave but bright smiles and happy faces."

  "Emilie—"

  "Nothing is happening."

  It was the first crack I'd ever seen in her perfect veneer, shaped at the finest school in Herin and solidified at the side of the Raven president. For once, she didn't look like a perfectly coiffed version of Raven beauty; she was a real human being. Her own wishes and desires, so firmly pressed beneath several layers of political spin, were bubbling to the surface. I just needed to crack her a little more.

  "One of my friends died," I said. "Her name was Sayuri Johar. She was trying to meet with the Raven rebels."

  Emilie glanced at me then shook her head. "I don't want to know what you and Korina have been doing."

  "Why not? The wedding is happening. Grieg's won. All that we've been working toward is up in smoke. So what does it hurt if I tell you that Anson's in Norose, and he was responsible for that plane crash? What does it hurt if I tell you all of your machinations and spin have resulted in the deaths of thousands of our Raven brothers and sisters?"

  Her eyes flashed. "I had nothing—"

  "You've been complicit since Bayard handed over the keys to the country," I reminded her. "So any blood that's been spilled is on your hands." I sighed and looked at my own palms. "Same as mine."

  Her gaze diverted for a moment, before she straightened her shoulders and opened her binder. "Back to the wedding—"

  "Did you really think of me as a 'neechai?" I asked, unwilling to give up on her yet. "Or was it just for show?"

  She ran her hand down the page of the binder and then closed it. "Yes. I did. Because I'd lost mine to the rebel cause some years ago. Her name is Aline, and she's about your age. We used to be close, she was my baby sister, but...when she returned from boarding school two years ago, she'd been indoctrinated by some boy she'd met. She said Bayard was no better than Grieg, that I was just as responsible for the state of our country as they were... That was the last time we spoke." She took a shaky breath. "I don't know if she was there or not...but my gut tells me she's...she's gone."

  Despite my complicated feelings for Emilie, I reached across the table and took her hand.

  "I believed in what Bayard was doing, because I thought it was the best way to do things," she continued, before shaking her head. "Maybe not the best, but the most realistic. We were never going to win against Kylae, not with their current king. Not when they see us as animals. But now Aline is dead, and I just wonder..." She half-smiled. "She was going to marry that boy, you know. My mother had already commissioned a traditional Raven wedding dress. It was going to be so beautiful on her." A tear slipped out from beneath her made-up eyes and she wiped it away. "But no matter. It's your wedding I'm focused on now and—"

  "I want to wear her dress," I said, the idea coming to me in a flash of light.

  Emilie shook her head. "No, Theo, you know you won't be allowed to wear it."

  "I don't care. I want you to get it for me."

  She stared at the wall. "To what end? To protest this treaty in front of people who would rather see you dead? To let the international community know that you, a powerless girl, don't agree with what a king is doing?"

  "Symbols are powerful, you taught me that," I said, taking her hand. "I want to honor your sister, and Johar, and everyone who died fighting back." I sighed. "You're right. I am powerless. The only thing I have is my own body, my willpower, and my conviction. And even if they shoot me dead wearing that dress, at least I'll go out under my own flag. The real flag." I squeezed her hand. "Our flag, 'neechai."

  She closed her hand around mine and squeezed it. "I'll see what I can do."

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Galian

  I stood in the window, watching the sun slowly sink on the horizon. The sky was an ominous crimson and purple, a warning for what was coming. Tomorrow, the country known as Rave would formally cease to exist. Tomorrow, Theo and I would stand in front of the Kylaen media and exchange vows we hadn't written. Tonight, we had to stand in a room full of Kylaens and pretend to be okay with it.

  Well, not even Filippa had asked that of us. We just had to be in the room.

  I wore the traditional Kylaen military dress uniform, as requested by Grieg. The last time I'd been forced to wear
this ridiculous red jacket with all the unearned medals, Kader had been breathing down my neck. Martin had been alive. I'd flirted with Olivia. I'd thought a lot about Theo, but I hadn't done anything to deserve her.

  How much simpler life had been then.

  I buttoned my shirt, still starchy from the wash, and stared at myself in the mirror. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wedding band, slipping it on for a moment and realizing that, after tomorrow, I could at least wear it in public without feeling my father's wrath. One small positive amongst a sea of shit.

  "Hey, amichai..."

  I perked up at the sound of Theo's voice. She'd been strangely resolute this past week, and it had set me on edge, especially as she'd been more loving than usual. I kept her in my sights at all times, worried that this latest setback was too much for her to handle. But I knew in my gut that she wouldn't commit suicide in the privacy of our bedroom. No, Theo was planning something big, and it terrified me.

  But the woman who stood in front of the mirror wasn't someone who'd been defeated. Shoulders back, smile on her face, the dress was...interesting. A long, flowing skirt detailed with intricate gold threading on a black velvet fabric, and a top that extended down to her wrists but left her stomach bare. Her hair was interlaced with diamonds and gemstones, braided and styled to sit perfectly on her shoulder.

  She was, in short, the most stunning thing I'd ever seen.

  She lifted her hands, which were connected to the skirt of her dress, and gave me a rather un-Theo-like bashful look. "What do you think?"

  "I think...wow..." I couldn't come up with anything smarter to say. She giggled and turned slowly for me, so I could take in the sight of her. "I've never seen a dress like that in my entire life."

  "It's Raven," she said, a little breathlessly. I loved the way her eyes lit up when she saw herself, how her shoulders fell backward and her chin drew higher. "A traditional Raven wedding dress. Emilie got it for me."

  "E-Emilie? Why would she do that?"

  Theo turned to the mirror. "Because she knows the power of an image. And if I'm going to be married against my will, I'm going to wear what I damned well want to the engagement party."

  "Theo..."

  "I'm tired of the surprise revelations, of your father using us for his own gain. I want to fight back."

  "We have been fighting back—"

  "No, we haven't. We've been dancing around the realities of the situation, but neither you nor I have really done anything in clear disobedience to your father. That ends today."

  I didn't like the finality in her tone. "Theo, you're scaring me."

  "What are you willing to give up?" she asked quietly. "To stop this treaty."

  "Not you."

  She turned in my arms, her gaze serious. "What if you had to? What if, in order to bring peace to our two nations, I had to die?"

  "I don't know why we're discussing this," I said, running a hand through my hair. "You're not going to die, and neither am I."

  "We could. We might. I'm willing to."

  "I'm not willing to let you," I said.

  She sighed and walked away from me. "Galian."

  "No, Theo," I snapped. "That's not fair."

  "We're way past fair," Theo said with a snort. "And life's not fair."

  "I've waited a year to be with you, Theo. I'm not going to give that all up—"

  She spun, and the diamonds in her hair sparkled in the light. "And how do you think Johar's family feels right now? How did Martin's family feel at his funeral?"

  I had no response.

  "Look," she said after a moment of silence, "we wouldn't have made it this far—"

  "Just to be separated."

  "I believe that in my heart, amichai. But your father is willing to bomb a city he now claims as his just to keep them in line. What's to say he wouldn't turn around and have us killed as well? Or disappeared to Rave like all the ministers who've opposed him? We have a choice: we can either lie down and let him kill us, or we can fight to the death. I'm choosing to fight."

  She was right, of course. She was always right, my beautiful, brilliant wife. My father would never allow us to truly be together, and once the media stopped caring about us, it would only be a matter of time.

  I took her hands in mine and kissed her palms. "I love you. And I'm with you, to the end."

  I just prayed it didn't have to go that far.

  Theo

  The dress was ridiculous and impractical, but I wore it like battle armor as Galian and I strode down the corridor toward the main hall. His words hung in my ear, and I supposed I should've known he'd say them. As much as it heartened me to know that he'd lay down his life for me, I hoped I'd never have to ask him to.

  "Well?" Galian said, as we arrived at the top of the staircase. "Are you ready to make a scene?"

  "Let's do it," I said with a smile.

  A hundred faces turned up to us, and surprise rippled across all of them. Galian smiled at me, and kissed my cheek before we made our way down the staircase. For once, I needed to say nothing to be heard. And I knew every single person in the room understood what I was trying to say.

  We were halfway down the stairs when the music began again, and slowly, the conversations picked back up. Grieg was turned away from us, but I heard the boom of his voice over the conversation. He'd seen what I'd done, and he wasn't happy about it.

  Good.

  We reached the bottom of the staircase and Galian swiped a glass of champagne for the both of us. "Bottoms up, amichai. We'll need it tonight."

  "My, my, that was quite an entrance."

  Galian spun, raising his eyebrows. "Olivia..."

  I followed his gaze and recognized the Kylaen woman who stood before us from photos. She seemed a bit more imposing in person, but the smile on her face was kind.

  "What are you doing here?" Galian gasped, leaving my grasp to embrace her. "I thought you were in Jervan?"

  "I was," she said with a glance at me. "Is this...your wife?"

  Feeling brave, I strode forward and held out my hand. "It's nice to finally meet you."

  "Same." She surveyed me for a moment, her gaze drawing to my bare navel and the jewels adorning my hair. "That's quite an outfit."

  "Traditional Raven wedding dress," Galian said, standing next to me. "We're hoping to make a statement."

  Olivia nodded. "Smart. Although I'm not sure how much will get out past Kylae. The Jervanian media has been fairly quiet on the annexation. They're not interested in helping the Ravens. They've tangled with your father before, and they aren't willing to poke the bear, so to speak, anymore."

  "And the Herinese?" he asked, his face growing concerned.

  "Same," Olivia said, glancing around for eavesdroppers. "Although Prime Minister Bouckley is less worried about Kylae and more furious with Bayard. After all, it was their technology that went into the ocean."

  "I know," I said darkly. "I was on it."

  Olivia gave me a curious look, but Galian asked, "So there's no chance they'll try to intervene?"

  "None. I'm sorry, Galian." She spotted another friend across the room and smiled at him. "I'm sorry, that's one of our investors. I have to talk with him, as he's thinking about pulling his money out of the company since we relocated."

  "No, no," Galian said, resting his hand on the small of my back. "Go on. Thank you for your help."

  "I'm sorry I couldn't do more," she said, before leaning in to speak quietly. "Say the word, and you two can join me on the plane back to Jervan."

  With that, she spun on her designer heel and hurried toward her investor.

  "She's different than I thought," I said, turning to Galian, but he was watching his former flame with more than a little interest.

  "We could leave with Olivia."

  "L-leave?" I blinked at him. "What happened to, 'I'm with you until the end?'"

  "Theo, you heard her," he said. "No news is getting out of this country. I'll die for you, but right now, the only thin
g that would accomplish is making my mother cry."

  I pushed him away angrily. "You can't be serious. Galian, if we die, that'll...that'll—"

  "You can't possibly be arguing over whether or not we're going to martyr ourselves," he said with a snort. "Theo, you've got to see reason."

  "I see a coward, that's what I see." His eyes widened, and I immediately regretted my words. "Galian, I didn't mean it—"

  But a loud clanging interrupted our argument. Grieg stood up in front of his throne, a glass of champagne raised. I thought it was a bad omen that he was toasting when the objects of his toast were on the other side of the room.

  The crowd's murmuring quieted down and Galian muttered beside me, "Where have I seen this before?"

  The crowd applauded politely, but I was happy, at least, that they seemed unenthusiastic about it. Perhaps my dress had caused more conversation than I'd thought.

  But Grieg was undeterred. "By accepting our Raven family back into the fold, we are entering a new chapter in Kylaen history. A brilliant chapter of newfound Kylaen resurgence in our economy, our people, and our strength as a nation."

  I snorted. "Rave's not bringing any of that to the table, thanks to fifty years of bombs."

  "Six months ago, the Herinese and Jervanians declared war on us," Grieg announced. "They built a weapon that could've decimated our entire country. And now, thanks to our brothers and sisters in Rave, we will finally answer their declaration."

  I heard a glass shatter somewhere in the room, but other than that, there was silence. Ministers, business owners, executives...they stared at Grieg as if he were speaking a different language. And I hoped he was, because what he was saying was...

  "For the past few weeks, we've been amassing planes and weapons in our bases on our new island province. I've invested heavily in rebuilding the infrastructure to support this new battlefront. Those who were once our enemy will join us in battle against those who would destroy us—"

  "It was Bayard's idea!" I said, my voice echoing through the room.