by Nina Walker
I was late to the party. Fashionably late, I told myself. The alchemists knew how to have a good time. This affair was less polished than the first one I’d been to months ago. There wasn’t food, for one thing. The lights were darker, the music louder, and the dancing a lot…closer.
Well, okay then…
Totally out of place and awkward, I made my way to the edge of the room to hide out. Why was this mandatory? Seemed like an excuse for people to indulge in too much orange infused drink and rub up against each other. Totally not my style. Especially not with people who hated me.
“You need to try harder to make friends,” Reed said, sliding in next to me. “It will make it easier for you to be initiated if the guardians can see that you’re one of us.” I was trying, as per Jasmine’s request. But so far, I’d not managed to make a single one.
“Easy for you to say,” I groaned. “You don’t even have to make an effort. People naturally want to be your friend. Everyone likes you.”
“You don’t like me.”
I shifted to face him, noticing his tailored black suit and carefully styled hair. Maybe he did make an effort. “It’s not that I don’t like you, Reed. It’s that I know what you did to me with the blue alchemy before. You tried to interrogate me so you could report back to your boss.”
“I thought you wouldn’t catch me and I could pretend it never happened,” he said, eyes down casting shadows across his face. “I was selfish, and I’m really sorry about that. But I never didn’t like you, just for the record. I would’ve gone after you whether or not Faulk had told me to befriend you.”
“Sure,” I mumbled.
“I swear. You don’t know what it’s like for us here. We have to do what we’re told, even if that means hurting each other from time to time.”
“That’s not cool.”
“No kidding.” He nodded. We sat in silence for a moment, watching the crowd.
“Okay, fine, I forgive you,” I said. “Tell me about something else, please? Like why is this stupid party mandatory?”
I caught his facial expression in the dim light as he chewed on his bottom lip. It was as if he was debating letting me in on a secret. “We’re about to go to war. You already know that. Everyone does. My guess is this party will be the last in a while. No doubt King Richard will be out here soon to give us all a pep talk, maybe more. Faulk will be finding me in the crowd and asking me to help him with his persuasion. She always does. Like I said, I don’t have a choice in these matters. I figured that out a long time ago.”
“But if you did have a choice?” I asked.
“What do you mean by that?”
I shook my head and turned away. I’d said too much. Even if I could forgive Reed for his past, it didn’t mean I could trust him with my secrets.
“Well, will you dance with me, or what?” He grinned.
At this point I realized I couldn’t say no to that face. Or maybe I just needed to have some fun and forget about the heaviness of the last few days. “All right, show me what you got.”
We moved to the dance floor, maneuvering through the crowd that pulsed to the thumping beat. I grabbed a flute of sparkling drink with an orange petal on top. I already knew what to do. I focused on building a happy feeling inside and touched the tip of my finger to the delicate flower. The orange alchemy danced into the drink, and I swallowed it in one gulp. The happy feeling swelled inside me, overpowering the pain. I welcomed it as Reed tugged me toward a group of his friends. Maybe I could have fun. It was better than crying.
I didn’t allow myself to get too close to anyone. But I did dance my heart out. It wasn’t the same as ballet. Nothing could beat ballet. But it felt incredible just the same. I lost myself in the thick crowd, the dark room, my eyes closed so I was cocooned from those around me. For all I knew they were glaring daggers at the weird new alchemist girl crashing their party. I didn’t care. For once, I felt like myself, and I relished in that as long as I could.
“I think your boyfriend’s here,” a male voice shouted directly into my ear. I turned to see a dark boy with long black hair. I stepped away from him, not sure who he was. The kid just smirked and pointed behind me.
Lucas. He was brooding in the corner, looking gorgeous in dark jeans and a navy button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I turned back to the guy; he was standing a little too close for comfort.
“Yeah right,” he scoffed, and I shook my head before losing myself in the crowd.
What was Lucas doing here? Did he come here to check on me? Questions circled my brain. I tried to get back into the dancing, but I’d lost all the energy for it. I was officially done partying. I headed for the exit hoping my appearance at the party was enough for whatever higher powers had deemed it mandatory. Lucas caught up to me, pressing a hand to the door before I could leave.
“Please don’t say anything,” I said.
“Whether or not you care about me, there’s something I have to tell you, Jessa. Because I care about you, and you need to hear it from me first.”
I stopped. “Fine,” I snarled. “Get it out so I can leave.” I was being mean. But it was like some rude version of myself had taken over and was fighting back at Lucas for something that wasn’t even his fault. What was wrong with me? Heartache did crazy things to people.
“I don’t even know how to say this,” Lucas said. He gulped as his face turned ashen in the dim light. “Things escalated very quickly this afternoon with my father. I did something I regret.”
“What are you talking about? Look, Lucas, you need to stay away from me. We can’t have this conversation over and over again.”
He glanced around, clearly perturbed by our lack of privacy and my response to his confusing words. Just as he was about to say something, the music stopped and a voice boomed from the other side of the room.
“Good evening, my color guardians,” King Richard bellowed over the crowd. Lucas stiffened next to me.
“I have to go over there,” he growled. “Jessa, why do you have to be so hard on me? I just wanted you to hear it from me first.”
I didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t matter. He left. I watched, exhausted, as he rushed through the crowd to meet his father. His behavior reminded me of the man I’d first expected him to be, brooding and unreachable. I shook my head, frustrated at the constant battles in our relationship. No matter how much we fought for each other, there would always be some bigger reason why it wasn’t going to work. I was tired of fighting.
“Oh, there he is, the engaged man himself!” Richard called.
My heart dropped as I nearly doubled over. Did he just say engaged?
“Aren’t they a beautiful couple?” Richard continued as Lucas climbed the stage. Then he joined his son’s hand with a gorgeous woman’s hand and held them up to the crowd. My thoughts ran a million miles, in a million different directions. But they landed on one thing.
Was Lucas tired of fighting for us?
When Lucas glanced at the woman, he smiled his perfect smile, and I almost threw up. This was exactly why we’d broken up. Because sooner or later, I’d get hurt and he would marry some trophy socialite of Richard’s choosing. I’d hoped ending things would have diminished that hurt.
Nope.
The crowed cheered, clearly excited by this news, many of them still drunk on orange alchemy. From the blooming smile on Lucas’s face, it seemed he was just as excited. Was he? I doubted it. Could it be possible that in giving up on us, he’d so easily moved his affections to a more worthy girl? I didn’t want to believe it. Couldn’t believe it. I knew him. Still, the nagging questions burned in the back of my mind bringing every insecurity I’d ever had to the surface.
Are we really done?
Maybe he doesn’t love me anymore.
Maybe I’m too much work for him.
Maybe—
I pulled myself out of that downward spiral and focused my attention back on the sta
ge. She was gorgeous, as to be expected. Porcelain skin and auburn hair slicked down her back. Big green eyes. Regal. She looked like a queen. Actually, she vaguely resembled the late queen, Natasha. I shouldn’t have been surprised this was whom they picked. No doubt she came from a good family, was agreeable, well educated, and wealthy. Not an alchemist. All the things Richard deemed appropriate for his son.
Why had Lucas agreed to this? Surely he must be playing some other game here. I hoped…
“Thank you, Father,” Lucas stepped forward to the microphone. That’s when I noticed the camera crew at the front of the crowd. The media was rarely invited to the palace. And to have the alchemists and the media in one place was extremely rare. Practically unheard of. What was going on? “I look forward to our engagement and my future marriage to my lovely fiancée, Celia.” He put his arm around her and kissed her sideways on the forehead, smiling his rakish smile. For all intents and purposes, he appeared to be a man in love. No doubt women all over the country would be mourning the loss of such a highly prized bachelor once the news broke out. I still couldn’t believe it. Just two days ago we were still a couple, and tonight he was engaged.
No, there had to be a reasonable explanation. I needed to be patient until he came to me with the truth.
You should have let him talk, I chastised myself for blowing him off minutes ago. No way he’d actually go through with this marriage.
My heart ached. It was time for me to go. I pushed through the door when the king’s steady voiced pulled me back into the moment. Stupid curiosity!
“The time has come for us to prepare for retaliation on West America. Not just for the death of our beloved queen, but for the deadly attacks during her funeral. Innocent lives were lost, and they will not have died in vain. I hope the news of an upcoming wedding will give us all something to look forward to as we begin the harrowing task of avenging those deaths.”
War. He’d talked about it a couple of times before but never directly to the alchemists. There was no doubt about it now. We were his best weapons and this was our final warning. Get ready. The intensity in the room thickened as, one by one, the guardians stood a little taller. Sobering up, no doubt.
“It is with that happy thought,” he continued, “that I must turn this conversation into something more somber.” I bit back the annoyance at his use of the word “happy.” Clearly, he was delusional if his idea of happy could resemble anything even close to what a war was going to look like.
“Bring him up,” he said.
There was a scuffle on the side of the stage as someone was dragged onto it. At once, I recognized the man. He was dressed in gray prison scrubs and was handcuffed, his mouth gagged. Surrounded by way too many guards, there was no way for him to get away. Even if he could manage to touch the right color and use his magic, there were too many alchemists in attendance who could take him down. Still, he fought every step.
Officer Thomas.
Lucas and his fiancée had moved to the side of the stage. A thick hatred filled Lucas’s eyes, almost consuming him. I’d never seen him look at anyone the way he looked at Thomas. I edged closer, around the crowd gathered at the front. First they made the party mandatory. Then Lucas announced his engagement. Finally, Richard brought Thomas out in public, in front of the media. Dread tingled up my spine. Something big was about to happen.
Richard and Lucas shared a knowing look, one I could easily read. I knew what Thomas did. But would it be revealed to the rest of the country when Richard had already announced something different at the queen’s funeral?
“This man used to be an officer of the court,” King Richard continued. “He was one of my father’s most trusted advisors, and I admit that even I included him in my inner circle. But he is a traitor. We’ve discovered that he is the mole in our organization. For West America. It was only during an attempted murder on the prince that my brave son apprehended him and discovered the truth.”
The crowd stirred, clearly vexed by the news. Journalists began calling out questions, but none were answered. A handful of officers knew the true story. But it seemed the truth didn’t matter anymore. Not even to Lucas.
He was on the other side of Thomas from where I now stood, on the edge of the stage. He glared so intently at Thomas, it was unlikely anyone would break his gaze. But then, he met my eyes. I glowered back, not at Thomas, but at him. He startled.
I didn’t care what his father had over him—this was too much, all of these lies. His expression softened, pained, fighting back at my own. Almost like he was willing me to understand. I shook my head and looked away. That’s when I realized his depression over Natasha’s death had clouded his judgment beyond anything I’d imagined. The Lucas I fell for wouldn’t have let any of this happen.
“It’s been ages since we had a public execution,” Richard continued and the crowed hushed. “An attempt on a royal life is punishable by death. And the same goes for treason. This man has been found guilty of both. His only use to our country now is to be made an example of.”
Thomas was squirming now, his old, bony body jerking. His white hair was matted to his head in perspiration. He screamed unintelligibly through his gagged mouth. The crowd mostly began to push back and out, but a few scurried closer to the stage. The cameras stayed where they were. That’s when I noticed something horrible. A man dressed all in black with a mask over his face ascended to the stage. He carried a long blade. It glinted under the lights, sharp edges flashing death.
“Let this be a message to you all,” Richard said, but he wasn’t looking into the cameras anymore. He was staring out into the crowd, meeting the eyes of the alchemists. “This is no longer a time of peace. We are at war.”
The men wrestled Thomas into a kneeling position. Someone yelled something into his ear, and he went still. I caught the words, “Or it will take more than one swing.”
I clutched my stomach. I couldn’t imagine the terror he must be feeling.
“There will be no mercy for traitors. If you betray this kingdom,” Richard bellowed, his eyes bulging under his heavy crown, “if you betray me, you will die.”
There was no time to turn away. Upon the king’s final words, the executioner swung the axe wide. It was over in a moment, just one lethal movement. Blood splattered in a sickening arc. The body crumbled, the head rolled, then stopped a few feet away. Everything froze.
Bile rose to the back of my throat. I doubled over, sure I was going to either vomit or pass out. The message was clear. Somehow, someway, King Richard knew about the Resistance. He had to. And this was our warning. I’d assumed Thomas hadn’t died yet because he was a red alchemist. But it seemed Richard valued loyalty more. And this? This was what his son wanted. What Lucas had been negotiating for…for weeks. When we broke up, had the pain been so intense that he thought this was the only way to feel better again?
Lucas still stood on the edge of the stage, comforting his bride-to-be, his lips set in a grim line, blood speckling his body. He didn’t reach up to wipe it off his face. He remained motionless, glaring at what was left of Thomas.
Was it worth it?
His gaze landed on me then, as if he could hear my question. With an indecipherable shake of his head, he returned his attention to the woman at his side. He didn’t look my way again.
11
Lucas
I applied pressure to my temples in a half-hearted attempt to alleviate the headache brewing. Celia and I sat awkwardly on the couch, our conversation stilted at best. She rubbed at the heavy emerald jewels draped from her neck as I fidgeted in my stiff suit. I cleared my throat.
“Did you want to say something?” she asked, perking up.
I shook my head, and she deflated.
Three parties in one week was not my idea of a good time. But here I found myself again, playing the role of dutiful prince. This time we were about to attend an intimate gathering to celebrate our engagement. I’d only met Celia earlier that week, even though she seemed to
believe we had history together. Most likely we’d crossed paths a time or two, and while she’d held onto the memories, nothing remarkable had stuck around for me.
Couldn’t everyone see that I wasn’t interested, let alone in love, with this woman? Couldn’t she see it? Sure, I was putting on a show for my father’s sake, but even I wasn’t that good of an actor.
“Come on,” Celia said, snaking her arm around me. “You need to meet my parents.”
“Goody.” I smiled through gritted teeth.
We stood, and she led me to the door. Someone knocked politely on the other side. I pulled it open to two middle-aged people with hungry stars in their eyes. They looked just like Celia, both with red hair, pale faces, and green eyes. She was sent in right away to greet me while they were given a quick security briefing. Now that they were the parents of the future queen, they would be in the public spotlight. I’m sure they didn’t mind. My father had already seen to it that Celia and her family were vetted, top to bottom. He’d chosen my fiancée, and I’d stupidly agreed in exchange for the execution of Thomas.
I am such an idiot.
I thought back to the events, still shocked that I’d been so impulsive. True, the fact that Thomas had been allowed to live had been keeping me up at night. But when Jessa broke up with me, something inside snapped. His execution become my sole focus, anything to avoid facing how bad Jessa had hurt me. A desperate part of me thought if I could just get justice for my mother, I’d feel better again. But I didn’t feel better. Anger simmered just below the surface, threatening to eat me alive. I was out of control and would do almost anything to get it back.
“Ah, they’re here.” My father strode into the room. “I’ll admit, I’m grateful you trusted me enough to give your daughter to my son. She’s a wonderful girl. No doubt they will be very happy together.”
They all blushed at the same time. Who are we kidding? We all knew every single one of those girls at that party had been dying to get my ring on her finger and a crown on her head. When Richard had proposed the idea of an engagement to me, he said he had a few girls in mind. I stupidly told him it didn’t matter who he chose. In my mind, there was no way I was actually getting married to a stranger. Agreeing to an engagement wasn’t agreeing to a marriage.
