by Rachel Jonas
I lowered the phone with no intentions on following his orders.
The limousine was silent for a moment. I didn’t think any of us saw the evening ending this way, including our dates. They were incredibly put-off by the abrupt end to what should have been an all-night event. The time and money they’d put into preparing had, in their eyes, gone to waste. We did the gentlemanly thing and escorted them home, or to their hotel rooms before heading here to the palace, but the damage was already done. Each made it clear they didn’t want to see or hear from any of us ever again.
Cecelia, in particular, was going to be a problem, though. I knew it even before she said so herself, stating that she’d never been so humiliated in all her life, and would see to it that Julian paid for disrespecting her. It couldn’t have helped his case any that the woman he’d ditched her for was human.
On that issue, I couldn’t have agreed with Cecelia more.
A thought occurred to me, one I couldn’t dismiss as a possibility. Especially seeing as how the alternative was to believe one of my closest friends had honestly started falling for this girl.
“They’ve gotten clever,” I blurted, thinking that might be worth the mention, referring to the ever-growing population of rogue humans. “I’ve heard rumors some have created devices to defend themselves against compulsion, is it so farfetched to think they’ve maybe discovered a way to … I don’t know … compel us?”
Levi frowned at the mere idea of it. “Impossible.”
I got the feeling it was pride speaking and not rationale. Whether he admitted it or not, it was not at all like Julian to behave that way. There had to be more to it.
Silas’ gaze shifted to Levi, and the look they shared left me to wonder if I missed something.
“Maybe it’s time we —” Silas began to speak, but was promptly interrupted.
“Now’s not the time for whatever romantic ideals you were getting ready to spew, Si,” Levi cut in sharply. “I think we can all admit the girl is smokin’ hot, but that’s the end of it. There’s no hocus pocus about it. We’re guys and guys are notorious for making stupid mistakes where women are involved. End of story.”
“End of story?” Silas piped. “You’re certain about that?”
“I’m simply stating that what Roman proposed is B.S. If this girl has the power to persuade the thoughts of Ianite men, she would have used it to save herself tonight when the sentinels nearly stomped a hole through her.”
Silas’ gaze shifted toward the window then, and I sensed how unsettled he was.
“There’s always the chance that what Julian felt was real,” Levi went on, sighing heavily. “I mean, perhaps he just found it within himself to follow his own heart for once.” There was a strange pause. “Wouldn’t you say that’s possible, Si?” Levi asked what felt like a loaded question.
Silas turned again, but this time the look he passed Levi wasn’t as passive as the last. He didn’t bother responding, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say it was downright hostile.
Julian’s response to this girl was … real. That’s what Levi suggested.
The car filled with a stifling silence. Julian had once been held with high esteem within the Dynasty. And now, in one night, his good name had been ruined.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Levi
“Good evening, Your Highnesses,” Ellenore greeted us, a broad smile nearly stretching ear to ear.
I gave her a nod and entered when she stepped aside to let us pass. “Prince Julian is expecting you. He’s waiting in his study.”
With a muttered, “Thank you,” I crossed through the foyer, the others followed.
I was aware of another cold glare from Silas as we passed the staircase. It was clear we needed to have a conversation before going forward. Otherwise, he’d do something reckless like take the attention off the issue at hand, probably choosing to confess what we’d done. Yes, we would eventually have to fess up, but the timing was all wrong. Telling Julian now wouldn’t absolve our sins, it would only muddy the waters. For now, Silas would just have to bear whatever guilt he felt until things blew over.
“We’ll be in in a moment,” I said, ushering Roman past us as I pulled Silas aside.
Roman paused a moment, shot us a questioning glance, but then entered the study where Julian waited.
My gaze landed on Silas once we were alone.
“Say whatever it is you need to say,” I spoke quietly. “Get it off your chest now, before we head in there.”
“Therein lies the problem!” he whispered. However, even without raising his voice, he made it clear he was peeved. “What I have to say doesn’t need to be discussed off to the side, Levi. We need to tell him what we’ve done,” he stated. “We need to tell him this is on us.”
My brow tensed. “While I’ll agree we’re not innocent, I won’t take the blame for Julian’s decisions tonight. We simply opened him up to his heart’s true desires, which just so happen to have led him to this … girl. But everything that took place afterward is on him.”
It was clear Silas was fuming, but I wasn’t going to let this go.
“We did nothing but help Julian do what felt right for one night,” I assured. “We never could have foreseen that he’d make these rash decisions. Right now, we need to stay focused. The best thing we can do for him at this point is run damage control where we’re able, do our best to minimize the fallout. Stay focused, Si,” I added, staring into his eyes.
He didn’t say a word as he walked off, slamming his shoulder against mine on his way into the study. I straightened the jacket of my tux, and then followed him inside.
The moment we crossed the threshold, it was clear Julian’s mood hadn’t lifted in the least since departing from Lord Wilford’s.
In fact, he seemed even more distraught than before.
He peered up from his seat behind the desk, motioning for the three of us to join him. I rested in the armchair opposite his, while Silas and Roman opted for spots on the leather sofa. The room wreaked of old books, furniture polish, and … despair.
“So, what’s the verdict,” I sighed, propping my feet atop his sprawling desk.
“I’m just waiting to hear that we’re disposing of a body tonight,” Roman sighed.
When he flashed a dark smile, I guessed he was only half joking. However, if Julian had agreed, I imagined Roman wouldn’t have objected.
A long, frustrated breath left Julian’s mouth, and I think we all held ours, awaiting his response.
“Everything’s a mess,” he admitted, plucking the thought right from my head. “Father’s called a meeting at first light, which I expected. So, I suppose a decision will be made then.”
I frowned, hearing that this was his plan.
“Absolutely not.” He and the others peered up when I objected. “That’s the last thing you need, for your father to take the stance the rest of the world will take come morning—that you’ve made a huge mistake and are unfit to rule this kingdom.”
Julian was silent as he pondered it. He had to know I was right. The only thing worse than a ruler who made rash decisions was one who couldn’t make decisions at all. So, despite being partially at fault for what happened tonight, it was my job to make sure my friend, my brother, avoided a second disaster.
I owed him at least that.
I leaned forward with a sigh. “Okay, let’s consider our options and then rule them out one by one. We have Roman’s suggestion, which was to … well … kill her,” I stated, clearing my throat. “Or, another option could be to out her for what she is—an imposter.” I thought about that for a moment. “In which case, I suppose she’d be killed anyway, so …”
Each suggestion so far seemed to lead to the same conclusion. Perhaps it was fate.
Julian shook his head. “If I turn her in, I may as well hand myself over, too. I protected her,” he reiterated. “We all did. What excuse could we possibly give for why we’d do such a thing?”
A noise
across the room garnered my attention. It was Silas, and now that my gaze settled on him, there was a sense of uneasiness I was certain no one felt but me. Especially when it became clear he intended to speak.
“We should eliminate all ideas that result in her death,” he suggested. “I, for one, think our best bet is for you to keep your word, Julian.” All eyes were on him when he sat forward to explain. “You told the sentinels she was yours, a Doll, right? So, the easiest workaround that won’t get you both killed, is to stick as close to your original lie as possible.”
Julian reached for a glass of what I assumed to be Scotch, as he listened.
“Think about it,” Silas continued. “If you out her, have her killed, what message does that send?” Silas asked. “You’ll either be named a traitor, once photos of you leaving with her surface, or you’ll be viewed as the future monarch who couldn’t tell a human from an Ianite.”
Complete silence.
Those words were harsh, reminding me of something I would have said, but they were undeniably true. Roman sighed heavily, seeming to hate that his original offering had been canceled out, but Silas was right.
Julian reared back, exhaling sharply. “The social ramifications alone will send my mother into a fit,” he sighed.
He was spot on about that. The beloved Empress of the East was nearly as dramatic as my own mother, so it went without saying she wouldn’t be fond of this decision. After all, owning a Doll would immediately dampen Julian’s status. Thus, greatly diminishing the pool of potential brides from which it was his birthright to choose. And with there only being a year until we’d inherit our fathers’ kingdoms, we were ever mindful of how quickly that clock was winding down, starting today.
“Your choices are to either disappoint your parents or disappoint the entire Dynasty. You choose,” Silas added flatly, doing little to conceal his frustration.
“You all can’t be serious.” Roman’s voice rose up again, and we each turned to him. “She weaseled her way into the gala, humiliated a prince of the Dynasty, and God only knows what secrets she’s keeping and who she’s guarding them for,” he seethed. “If you ask me, having her around is bad news, and you’d be best just cutting your losses. Marred reputation and all, the fallout is worth not having to wonder if you’re inadvertently harboring a fugitive. I mean, for all we know, she could be working with Blackbird.”
A hush fell over the room and, speaking for myself, there was no longer a clear-cut solution. It all came down to what it had before—Julian’s decision.
He seemed to realize this at the same time we all did. No one could make this choice but him, because no one would be affected by it like he would. Even Silas’ defense of him in Lord Wilford’s garden would be excused if Julian assumed full responsibility. As would the lies we told when returning to the gala.
“So, what’s it gonna be?” I asked, when no one else would.
After a few seconds of silence, and what I guessed to be some heavy deliberation, we got our answer.
“I’ll have Ellenore arrange for the paperwork to be drafted and it will all be taken care of before tomorrow’s meeting,” he declared, sealing his fate and his new role.
Julian Westower, future ruler of the Eastern Dynasty, would soon answer to a new title.
… Master.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Corina
I couldn’t say I slept well, but … I slept, breaking up a half hour or so of rest with frequent pacing. My entertainment for the evening consisted of staring down at the eight guards who patrolled beneath the window, and listening to those stationed just beyond the door in the hallway.
Between the stinging pain in my wrist, and my decision to forego the soft, king-sized bed offered to me, I mostly tossed and turned on the rug, using my arm as a pillow. For some reason, as I glanced around the lavish bedroom that certainly lived up to its name—the Blue Suite—I couldn’t bring myself to settle in. Something felt fundamentally wrong about sleeping in a warm bed, eating Julian’s food, when I knew my team and our refugees made do with scraps. My stay here was temporary, so it was best not to get too comfortable.
Even if the only way I’d get to leave was by way of a brutal execution.
Or worse, delivered into the hands of the Butcher.
I forced the thought from my head and breathed deeply, taking a walk to the attached bathroom. One look at myself in the mirror—still cloaked in the dress from the gala, filthy from the roll in the garden with Bryson and Embry—and I decided there was one luxury I wouldn’t deny myself.
A bath—because it was a must.
The closest I’d gotten to having one before this was a soak in the plastic container we repurposed last summer after Banks’ unfortunate run in with a skunk. Once it served its original purpose for him, we kept it around for the rest of us.
But this … it was quite the different experience.
For starters, the bathtub was big enough to comfortably fit at least three more people, and it was outfitted with jets that felt like a million tiny fingers tasked to work out every kink and knot. The space as a whole was extravagant—gold faucets, heated tile, marble countertops.
I soaked for nearly twenty minutes, and emerged with my hair smelling like something other than sweat and Riot’s drool for a change. And my skin was so soft now, thanks to the oils that had been left on the ledge to condition the water. As I took in my surroundings, I again pondered the lifestyle of the Dolls and the understanding continued to deepen.
However, having a better understanding of what drove them to make their choice did not equate to condoning it.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, a basket of supplies had been placed just inside the bedroom door—beauty products, fresh bandages for my wound, a change of clothes. I guessed this had all come from Elle. With her keen eye and precise calculations, I wasn’t surprised that the outfit she picked suited me perfectly—a slim fitting pair of jeans to be paired with a white blouse, navy cardigan, and suede heels the same shade. I would have preferred sneakers, but I suppose she was going for a specific look—the typical outerwear of a proper Ianite woman.
Something I definitely was not.
At the thought, a wave of sadness struck and I suddenly missed my team—my family—more than I already did. It had taken so much willpower to turn off my com instead of reaching out to Liv and Felix once I was brought to the suite. Getting caught mid-conversation was a real concern.
There was also the fact that the battery had to be preserved. In short, this made for a long, frightening night spent here in the palace with nothing to pass the time but my own thoughts.
And, considering my circumstances, those thoughts were dark and of little comfort.
I grabbed the silicone earpiece from where I’d left it beside my other belongings—the tattered dress, undergarments, and the fancy earrings I was guarding with my life to one day return to Liv. Sitting at the vanity across the room, I eyed a hairbrush perched on a gold, mirrored tray. One deep breath later, I tapped the side of the earpiece, and shoved it inside my ear. The sound of static instantly made me wince. I didn’t even breathe as I tried to hear past the interference.
Whispering, I risked being heard by the guards. “Liv? Fe? Is anyone there?” I asked.
While I waited, I fidgeted with my hair, using the brush to detangle my damp strands, attempting to settle my nerves.
It didn’t work.
The silence on the other end was not only frustrating. It was heartbreaking.
What if I never got to speak to them again?
What if the next time they heard of me was during a news update, explaining that I’d met my end swinging from the bottom of a rope, or at the point of a sword.
When communication between us ceased roughly eight hours ago, I could only imagine what my team must have thought, what they must have assumed. And now … there was only static.
I lifted a hand to remove the piece when a voice stopped me … “Cori! Cori, is that
you?”
Tears welled in the corners of my eyes. They were still there. They hadn’t given up on me.
“Yes!” I whispered. It took everything in me not to yell out to them, but I knew better.
“You’re okay?” Felix asked. “We slept in the command center in case you were able to contact us.”
And I was so, so glad they had.
“You’re okay?” Felix repeated.
I wasn’t sure how to answer that. I mean, I was alive, so that was something I supposed.
“I am,” I finally answered. “But I won’t be able to talk long. I think the com is about to die on me and I don’t have the spare.”
Another wave of sadness came with that admission.
“What’s going on? Where are they keeping you?” he asked in a rushed, panicked tone.
My eyes scanned the room, taking in the vaulted ceilings with crown moldings of gold, expensive window coverings, centuries old artwork, and silk bedspread.
“The palace,” I answered as quietly as possible. “A suite in Prince Julian’s quarters.”
Felix was quiet, and for a moment, I thought I’d lost him.
“Fe?” There was no missing the hint of terror communicated with that one word.
“… I’m here, it’s just … wow. Liv and I were certain they’d locked you in a cell,” he answered. “How did—”
His question stopped there, but I knew what he wondered. How did I end up in the cushiest place in this quadrant of the dynasty after having committed what the Ianites considered to be a heinous crime?
And my answer to that question?
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
I was going to say more, was going to tell Felix that first chance I got, I’d make a run for it, but a chipper, sing-songed, “Good morning,” caused the words to seize in my throat.
Glancing over my shoulder, I found Elle smiling. I wasn’t sure whether she had been waiting outside the door all this time, listening, but I feigned innocence just in case. If she hadn’t heard me whispering, it’d seem to her I’d only been securing my ponytail before she walked in to greet me.
