I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear Roman’s tap on my door, one minute early. It makes no sense, because I knew he was coming. Death can sense my anxiety and circles my feet frenetically. I nearly trip over him when I walk across the room.
Roman lifts one eyebrow when I open the door. “You could have told me to come in.”
I glance from side to side, taking in the door guards posted.
“I needed to move,” I say. “Come in. We have a lot to talk about.”
Roman’s wearing a black tank top that exposes his sculpted shoulders. He closes the door behind him and smiles at me. “We do?”
I step backward involuntarily. “No, but they need to think we do, because otherwise, what will they think we’re doing in here for so long?”
Roman’s smile shifts a hair and becomes a cocky grin. “Yes, what could they possibly think we’re doing this late at night, in your bedroom?”
Do not react, do not blush, and do not freak out. He’s just being goofy. “Let’s go, just in case they come early.”
“You know it’s imperative that they not see us.”
I bob my head. “We’ll figure it out.”
Roman’s eyes rake down my body and then back up. “You’re wearing all black. That’s good. It’s so dark out tonight, we should be able to move close to undetected.”
“That’s the plan.”
He crosses the room and opens the window, the muscles in his back rippling from the strain. I look down just in time.
He turns toward me and asks, “Coming?”
I answer by jogging over to the window. He’s already through and offers me a hand. When I take it, a strange tingling starts in my fingertips. I snatch my fingers back the second my feet hit the ground outside, and we both head across the rear pavilion and toward the bluff.
The first guard, Günter, stops us.
“We’re going for a jog,” I say. “Roman’s with me for safety, but please keep it off the radio and your record. If we decide to do more under-the-radar training, I don’t want our routine to become predictable.”
Günter bows. “Yes, Your Highness.”
Roman’s shoulders stiffen at the slight. Most people are saying Your Highness, which is fine. I’m Heir, not Empress, but it’s nice to know that Roman’s annoyed too.
I put my hand on his. “It’s fine,” I whisper. I set out at a jog again.
“Your mother is gone, your sister fled, and they’re still acting like you’re not Empress,” Roman says. “Why doesn’t that bother you?”
It does, but it’s a fight for another day. It still makes me smile that Roman cares, not that anyone will notice my grin in the darkness. There’s just enough light to avoid twisting my ankle. By the time we reach the bluff, I’m actually sweating a little, the humid air making my shirt stick to my clavicle.
“There.” I point at a rocky outcropping. “We can both hide under there, and if anyone else is coming, we should be able to see them.”
“Good idea, but we’ll have to sit pretty close, facing opposite directions, or we won’t see everything.”
The bluff is the highest point in Ni’ihau, and it can be seen from all around if you aren’t sheltered. But you also have an amazing view from here. I scramble up to the top and then duck under the grassy ledge. The ground is full of scree that I kick away and then smooth out with my hand before taking a seat.
Roman slides over next to me, shifting me over a little to make room for himself.
“Keep your eyes open for any signals or signs,” I say. “They can’t possibly be sending a helicopter or something here, or we’d see that. It’s not that dark. Which must mean they were planning for Nihils to see whatever they had planned from here.”
Roman bobs his head. “I’m watching my side, you watch yours.”
His heart beats slowly next to me. Buh-bump. Buh-bump. I could set my clock by it.
“Are you happy here?” Roman asks.
“My mother just died.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. “That was a dumb thing to ask.”
“Did you mean, before Mother died?”
He nods. “Yes, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s been a hard couple of days,” I say.
“Because of Edam.”
For some reason, I’m uncomfortable with Roman bringing up his name. I force myself to respond so he doesn’t realize that. “I guess you’re glad he’s gone.”
“I guess so.”
“It does mean a promotion for you.”
“I don’t care much about titles or jobs,” Roman says.
I didn’t realize he hadn’t liked Edam. Everyone loved Edam. Clearly Mother did, and Chancery has for years. “But speaking of jobs, I think he did his pretty well. Did you find everything in order when you took over?”
Roman’s mouth turns down on both sides. “Yes.”
The silence is deafening after that, and I become acutely aware of the nearness of Roman’s body. Heat radiates from him, but it’s not uncomfortable. The air has cooled off quite a bit now that the sun has been down for so long. The minutes creep by with no conversation.
But no one comes, and no one shines a light, and no one makes a single solitary peep.
“They know Nihils is gone,” I finally say at one a.m. “And no one else is coming. This is a dead end. Sorry I wasted even more of your time.”
“I suppose it was a waste of time.” Roman’s eyes search mine for something with an intensity I have rarely seen, but I can’t figure out what. Is he looking for disappointment? Sorrow? Anger?
“Well, we better get back then.”
He grunts. “We better.” He reaches his hand toward my face and I freeze. No muscles work, my lungs shut down, and my heart picks up speed. What’s he doing?
He flicks a spider out of my hair.
I’m an idiot. What did I think he was about to do? He’s not the right guy for me, and even if he were, he wouldn’t want to date me. I’m the insane berserker. No one wants that.
I trudge back down slowly, Roman at my side. Memories flood my mind. Mother’s face, Mother’s words, Mother’s lessons. She worked so hard to mold me into the perfect ruler, but it wasn’t enough. I’m not enough. Mother might have been right to choose Chancery, because I’ve lost my last lead on catching her killer. I’m a failure at this, just as I failed at everything else.
My arms and legs still work when I climb through my own window, Roman at my back, protecting me as always. “Thanks,” I tell him when he climbs back inside.
“Of course.” He shuts the window and turns toward me. He steps closer, too close, but I’m powerless to pull away.
Probably a bug on my nose.
“I need to tell you something,” he says. “And I’m aware it’s not good timing, but it feels like there will never be a great time.”
My breathing hitches. I want to stop him, but I can’t do it. I can’t even force out a single word.
“Edam’s the best fighter. He’s better at theory. He’s better looking. He’s scarier and has a better pedigree.”
Edam’s perfect. My mother loved him, but Edam dumped me for her. As if that isn’t bad enough, he did that before he even knew I wasn’t going to be Heir.
“But Edam never looked at you the way he should have. He never burned for you. In fact, Edam was always wrong for you.”
Roman’s hands circle my waist. His face lowers to mine slowly. I have a lifetime to stop him. I could shove him away. I could laugh. I could shake my head, or say a two letter word and he’d disappear forever. I can feel it all the way down to my cells.
I don’t stop him.
Roman’s full lips meet mine and something breaks inside of me. Bands around my heart disintegrate. The anger that has become my constant companion evaporates in the heat between us. Hope soars inside of me as his mouth meets mine, his broad chest pressed against me. His hands tighten around my waist and for the first time in days and days, I’m not afraid.
R
oman is the bite of my blade against an enemy, the regrowth of skin over a healing wound, the bunch of my muscles before I strike. I could kiss him all night.
I shouldn’t be kissing him at all.
Mother hated the idea of me dating Roman, because he’s not good enough. He’s not strong enough, or ambitious enough, or strategic enough. Which is probably why I was so terrified when he tried to help. He can’t survive in my world, at my level. I will kill him, just by being who I am.
Pulling away from him hurts more than a shattered femur. It stings more than hot coals. It steals my breath and my joy and even my pain. It leaves me bereft and numb and broken. But none of that is as hard as seeing the hurt in his eyes. In his beautiful, velvety eyes. In the eyes that always support me, always uplift me, always worship me.
“I can’t,” I say.
Roman stares into my eyes for a moment, checking whether I mean it. Whatever he sees is enough. He salutes before he leaves, and I crumple in a heap once he’s gone. For the second time in my life, I go to sleep on a pillow wet with tears.
15
The Present
Roman dismisses his driver and we all climb into Billy’s dad’s car.
“Here, you can sit back here with me,” Ambrosia says.
Roman scowls, but doesn’t argue. He climbs into the passenger seat and lets Billy, who knows the area better, drive. But when the car turns on and the music blasts into the cabin, Roman clears his throat politely. When that doesn’t work, he looks back at me.
I shrug. A little loud music won’t hurt us.
We spend half the day looking for the list of items, including a burner cell phone for me. It would have taken us far longer without Ambrosia and Billy’s help, but even so, we spend more time waiting on incompetent people than we do actually purchasing what we need. Navigating the world of the humans is more obnoxious than I’d have expected. Eventually, though, we locate everything, and I’m ready to assemble it all.
“Where should we go to make the flash bombs?” I ask. “I assume these aren’t legal.”
Billy shakes his head. “I’m not sure, so maybe it’s best to pick somewhere out of the way.”
“You’re thinking grandpa’s old place?” Ambrosia asks.
Billy shrugs. “Our grandpa died almost ten years ago, but Dad can’t bring himself to sell his house. It’s a ways off, but it’s on a few acres and no one would be watching what we’re doing.”
“Perfect,” I say.
It’s a drive to get there, but it turns out to be the perfect spot. It is a small, ranch style home, surrounded by big trees and shaggy weeds. Once we set up to make everything, Billy’s a little too interested in making the flash powder. “So it’s forty percent potassium?” he asks.
Roman’s jaw muscle twitches. “Potassium perchlorate.”
“And thirty percent magnesium?”
“Thirty-four percent,” I say. “And twenty-six percent aluminum.”
“This part is dangerous,” Roman says. “Maybe you better give me some space.”
Billy takes a step back.
Roman scowls. “All of you go outside. The last thing we need is for this to blow up because you’re distracting me.”
“Your concern for their lives is very touching,” I say.
“I’m more concerned about how long it would take us to replace all of this.” Roman winks at me to soften the growl in his voice.
I walk onto the front porch, and Billy and Ambrosia follow.
“Usually the front porch is dusty and the inside of the house is clean,” Ambrosia says. “But it’s the opposite here. The outside is cleaner than the inside, thanks to the wind.”
I brush off the bench out front and sit down. “It’s still pretty dirty.”
“At least there are less spiders.” Billy shudders. He whips out his phone and starts poking buttons.
“What’s he doing?” I ask.
“Nervous he’s telling someone where you are?” Ambrosia asks.
“Maybe.”
She shakes her head. “He’s addicted to this game called Clash of Clans. Basically, you fight people and steal their stuff and then you use what you stole to make your city bigger. Then bigger people attack you and steal your stuff. It’s this whole, pointless, boring, never-ending thing, but.” She sighs. “He’s always playing it. Trust me, he’s smart enough not to tell anyone where we are, even his dumb gamer friends.”
I hope she’s right.
“So. . .” Ambrosia says, drawing out the ‘oooo’ sound. “You didn’t tell me the friend you were calling was your boyfriend.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Billy’s a little bummed out, actually.”
“About?”
“That you’re taken.”
“Ah.” It hadn’t occurred to me that the human kid might have a crush on me, although it makes sense. I’ve always heard humans put a disproportionate level of importance on a mate with an aesthetically pleasing face and body. “Well, your brother was mistaken. Roman’s not my boyfriend.”
“He’s not.” Ambrosia’s words indicate she understands, but her tone implies I’m lying. Or delusional.
“Believe me, I wouldn’t become romantically involved with Roman.”
“That man is über hot, and all muscly, and smart, and he rushed out here the second you called him.”
I shake my head. “I’m telling you. We’re evian. Every single member of my community back home is hot, muscly, and smart. And most any member of my guard would have rushed out to help me for a text, much less a phone call.”
“Okay,” she says, “but you didn’t call anyone else. You called him.”
She’s right about that. “I trust him to keep his mouth shut.”
“You trust him, and he’s all those things I said, and he looks at you like a fat kid eyes a caramel apple in the candy shop window.”
“Just stop, okay? As my twin’s heir to the throne and as a member of the royal family, I need someone who can destroy anything in his path. I need someone who finds solutions when there aren’t any. I need my partner to be capable of taking on the entire world.”
Ambrosia crosses her arms. “You just described yourself, and in my experience, relationships between clones are fraught with problems.”
“What does that mean?”
“Look. My aunt married this guy, okay? She was career-obsessed, and driven, and dominant at just about everything. She went to Harvard Business School and she’s now CEO of her third start up. The lady is worth tens of millions. Let’s call her the human equivalent of you.”
“You’re comparing Wonder Woman to a successful businesswoman?”
“Don’t get hung up on labels, alright? Seriously, Aunt Cassidy’s epic. Anyhow, she married this guy who was first in his class at Harvard Law. Everyone gushed about what a phenomenal couple they made. They stayed married for less than two years.”
“They split up?”
Ambrosia nods. “She was absolutely miserable. They fought all the time. She’s been married to a new guy now, a guy named Bo, for almost ten years. Dad says they were made for each other, and guess what Bo does?”
“You’re going to tell me either way.”
Ambrosia grins. “Yes, yes I am. He was a food critic. But he quit that job and now he takes care of their two kids. He’s laid back, he’s excited about most everything, and he softens all her sharp edges. They’re still just as happy now as they were when they first met.”
“So you think I should marry a dud.”
Ambrosia’s eye roll practically makes noise, it’s so dramatic. “OMG. Bo is not a dud, and Roman is not a dud, and you’re totally missing the point. Have you ever heard the word vulnerable, Miss Empress of the World?”
That’s an ironic question coming from a human. “Yes. I’ve heard of it. It means you’re not safe, you’re open to damage or destruction.”
Ambrosia laughs. “What a classic Queen of the World answer. You’re wrong, though. It means you’re exposed, and if you’re
ever going to have a happy relationship, you’ll need to try it. You need someone you trust, like you just said you trust Roman, who you can rely on, who can bring things to the table you don’t already have. Which means you don’t need a crazy, overbearing warrior who can slice people to bits. You can do that already. You need someone else, someone different than you. But you’ll need to be brave enough to handle that kind of person.” She leans a little closer. “You’ll have to be vulnerable, or you’ll never truly find a partner.”
“Ambrosia is obsessed with Brené Brown,” Billy says. “She thinks reading a few of her books has made a psychologist out of her. Just ignore it and she’ll shut up.”
Except, I wonder whether I should be ignoring her, because what she said just made a lot of sense.
When Roman walks out of the front door, I try to look at him with fresh eyes. He’s hot, yes. He’s smart, also true. He’s skilled at what he does. He’s not Edam, but maybe there’s a reason things between Edam and me were always so miserable. Maybe Ambrosia isn’t wrong.
Roman realizes I’m staring and his eyebrows knit together in puzzlement. “Everything okay?”
He’s looking at me like he did at that party on New Year’s, and I remember that I have no idea who Brené Brown is, and I should not take the word of a few humans over my own mother. “Oh yeah, everything’s fine. Are we ready to go?”
“It’s all ready to load up, yes.” Roman glances back at the front door.
“Coming,” I say.
Ambrosia tries to make small talk in the car, but I don’t have anything to say. Now that the attack is happening, I’m uneasy, maybe even nervous. I close my eyes and run through complicated math problems, and then I move on to chess moves to occupy my mind. I can do this. I can fix my mistake in not killing Melina the first time around. I can avenge Mother, pay her back for kidnapping me, and then I’ll be able to go back home with my head held high.
It’ll be hard, but I need to fix my mistake. Angel and Melina will pay.
We drop Ambrosia and Billy off at the home of one of her friends, Paige. Melina’s people will be watching their house for sure.
unForgiven (The Birthright Series Book 2) Page 18
