by Nina Walker
I glared, matching his steely gaze with my own. We both knew I wouldn’t back down so easily.
“You cannot be with an alchemist!” he pressed. “We have an established hierarchy here and order must be maintained. The royals. Then the officers. Then the guardians. That’s it. We will not allow those lines to be blurred.”
“Or what?”
My father sighed exasperated, like I was beyond reason. “Or we will lose our power,” he said. “The alchemists already have more than they know. If they get too much power, it won’t be difficult for them to overthrow us, eradicate us, Lucas. I know you don’t understand it, but it’s the way things have to be. Believe it or not, I do love you. And as much as I want you to be happy, I want you to have a promising future.”
What kind of future was it to be married to someone against my will? He could tell me how much he loved me, but I didn’t see him doing much to show it. “And an alchemist on the throne would ruin everything?”
“It could,” he said. “Is that a risk you’re willing to take? Because I’m not.”
“Yes,” I said. “For Jessa, it is. I love her, Dad. Don’t you remember what it was like to marry Mom, the woman you loved? Please, don’t make me do this.” I’d never been so vulnerable with him before. It was probably a lost cause, but I couldn’t help it. I had to try. I was a goner when it came to Jessa. I’d been lost to her for months. The thought that I would actually be married to another girl soon was something I couldn’t swallow.
“The people need a distraction,” he said. “A royal engagement and wedding will keep their eyes off the gritty details of war long enough for us to do what needs to be done.”
I stared at the oak-paneled wall for a moment. And at the family portrait taken years ago centered there.
“So this is all about you then, isn’t it?” I should have known. It always came back to what he wanted, even if he was twisting it to look like something else. “You’re faking the motivation behind this war. We don’t know that West America ever did anything to us. So why are you doing this?”
It was true. He could lie about it all he wanted, to the media, the country, the alchemists, himself…but he couldn’t get past me.
“I don’t expect you to understand,” he said, moving for the door, but I stepped in front of it, holding it closed. This conversation wasn’t over.
“Try me?” I said.
“We’re confined. Our population is growing. Our people depend on us to provide for them. Millions of people depend on me. We need more land to grow our crops. We need more coal. It’s about resources, Lucas. I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Okay, we need more resources. So you feel justified to just go and take them.”
“We’re the superior nation. Our kingdom is special. What we have here is special. Everyone is taken care of. Everyone has a place. New Colony has thrived because our people chose to go back to the monarchy instead of bickering over every law. And every day that American democracy exists is a day we have a threat to our way of life. They’re bigger than us! They have more people. It’s only a matter of time until they come for us. I would rather be the one to do it first.”
“And what makes you think we’ll even win?”
“We are stronger than we’ve ever been. And they’re weak right now, having just gone through a politically divisive election. Their people are in turmoil, and ours are united.” Crazed excitement filled every word. “We’re ready for this. The Guardians of Color are incredible, don’t you agree?”
I nodded reluctantly.
“And it’s only a matter of time before they see the goldmine they’re sitting on and begin to train their alchemists too. Their people have feared magic for generations, but a shift is happening. The new president is sympathetic to alchemists. It was a big part of her platform, the “untapped resource” as she called it. People want change there, and that might just be the change they get. We have to defeat them before they get smart enough to mimic what we’ve created here.”
His reasoning made sense. But his lies? They were wrong and manipulative. His people trusted him, and he would keep that trust with lies and smokescreens. My engagement was just the latest proof of it.
“Father, there has to be a better way,” I said.
“Lucas.” His eyes held mine. “There is no better way. Get on board. Marry the girl. Please the people. Win the war. That’s the plan, and you need to embrace it. It’s your future.”
“No,” I said simply. I didn’t accept it. I couldn’t.
“I didn’t want to have to do this…”
“Do what?”
“Get on board or Jessa will be joining the soldiers and alchemists in the field. We could use her out there anyway.”
“She’s not ready for something like that! You could get your only red alchemist killed.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m well aware of how new she is. But I’m also aware that her red alchemy could help us win this war!”
“So that’s it, that’s all that matters to you? She’s a real person. She could die, and then what would you have left?”
“And that’s the one thing keeping her here. She’s here for her training, to grow strong, to become an asset to this kingdom. She’s not here to be with you.”
I’d heard enough. I slammed my way from the room, angrier with him than I’d been in ages. I knew what this meant. He was using my feelings for Jessa against me. And he would continue to use her as leverage over me, threatening her safety with my obedience. It only made me hate him more.
There had been moments since Mom’s death that I felt myself growing closer to him. Wanting to trust him. Trying to make up excuses for his behavior. Looking for the logic in his seemingly insane choices. But that was over. If he was willing to trade my happiness to better deceive his own people, to win more power, then he didn’t really care about me.
I had half a mind to hook up with the Resistance again, but it was foolish. I’d already gone down that path, and it didn’t lead anywhere good. And now with this looming threat about Jessa over my head, I felt too nervous to seek her out. What if he saw an interaction with her as reason to send her away? No. I was alone, with a stranger for a fiancée as my only foreseeable company. I needed to find a way out of this. If he could find my weaknesses and use them against me, then I would just have to return the favor.
By that afternoon, Celia had moved into the palace.
And no one put up a fight.
I’d hoped her parents would decline the offer, wanting us to date more or something remotely close to normal, but I wasn’t so lucky. This was probably their biggest dream come true, as if their only child couldn’t amount to more in life than marrying into higher status. If her father really was as influential as she’d let on, then having his daughter at the palace would only increase his sphere.
The palace sprawled across acres of land, leaving plenty of room for residential living, despite all the government offices that operated here. The guests of the royal family were placed in our area of the estate, so Celia was now living just down a hallway from the entrance to my family apartment. If I wanted to avoid her, it would probably mean more white alchemy. And I didn’t want to take the risk. The reason I’d kept my ability hidden as long as I did was because I only used it when absolutely necessary.
But if it got out? There was no telling how my father would react.
Suck it up. I knocked on the door to Celia’s suite. You did this to yourself.
She smiled coyly as she opened it, stepping back to let me in. She was dressed in a simple, blue gown with a low neckline. “You’re just in time, darling,” she said. I noticed a crimson flush run up her cheeks, matching her hair. Her eyes widened when they met mine. Maybe this was just as awkward for her as it was for me? “Our wedding planner just arrived.”
“Thank God.” I smiled and winked. She smiled back earnestly. She knows I’m being sarcastic right?
“I hope you don’t mind,” sh
e said, motioning her hands airily around the suite. “I brought some of my own furnishings.”
And that she had.
These suites were all pretty similar in their overstated grandness. She’d replaced everything with frilly and feminine pieces, a lot of white, and way too much pink. Even the main couch was a pale shade of pink. It didn’t fit her personality in the slightest. She pretended sweet innocence, but had a hidden side to her, like a viper. I had a feeling her mother had a hand in the decorating. “Of course, I was thrilled when my father suggested that I move in early. I know it’s only temporary until we occupy our own suite as newlyweds, but this way we can get to know each other much faster.”
So, her father had made the suggestion. Figures.
She stared at me expectantly.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” I said. Her lip quirked skeptically.
“Lucas.” A woman I hadn’t paid any attention to stood near the table. She matched the room. Unfortunately, that was the best way to describe her. I couldn’t put my finger on her name, but I knew her. She’d been planning events at the palace for as long as I’d been alive. Her face was overdone, circles of pink painted on her cheeks. Her hair was styled in a huge yellow poof on the top of her head. And when she smiled, a small smear of lipstick stained her teeth. “I’m so pleased to be your wedding planner for this wonderful occasion,” she gushed. “It’s been a while since you’ve had any part in planning the parties here, but of course I expect you to have many things to say about this special day.”
Sure.
We all sat, and she jumped into an array of options. My head spun as I half listened. I didn’t care what flowers were chosen, or what food we served, or what music we played, because as far as I was concerned, none of this was going to happen. Celia, on the other hand, stepped right into the role of bride-to-be. She had a strong opinion on each and every detail.
I counted my breaths in and out while pathetically attempting to look interested.
“With a winter wedding, our flower options are going to be limited…”
“Wait, what?” I sat forward. “We’re having a winter wedding?”
The wedding planner, whom I still hadn’t paid enough attention to in order to remember her name, stopped mid-sentence. Celia smiled calmly, not the least bit fazed. “Of course, silly,” she said. “The first of December.”
“That’s only a few months away.”
“Yes.” She reached out and wrapped her hand in mine. It felt wrong, calloused and cold. “It’s very exciting. I can hardly believe it myself. A winter wedding will be so romantic. We’ll have white roses everywhere, and I’ll wear a fur cape over my dress for the outside photos.”
“We can only hope for a storm the day before,” the wedding planner added. “A white, untouched backdrop.”
“Oh, that would be amazing!”
“There’s so much to prepare with this short engagement.” She returned to her normal tone. Back to business. “The ceremony will be televised, and the king has already told me to spare no expense. He wants to give the people something they can talk about for ages.” She smiled, as if tickled by the thought. “He said that himself, you know.” She winked at me.
Wow, lucky me.
How could I be so stupid? In my haste to see judgment served against my mother’s murderer, I’d agreed to an engagement. An engagement. I’d never said I would be married. I figured I could draw the engagement out long enough to find a way out of actually marrying someone. But what I’d taken as one thing, my father had turned into something else: an arranged marriage.
Who was I kidding? An engagement meant a wedding, which meant a marriage. But I had to wonder. Why so quickly? And why this girl? It couldn’t really be about saving face. There had to me more.
As the women continued on with the planning, my gut told me to bolt. But I stayed rooted; I was going to have to figure out Celia. There had to be some deeper reason why she was here. Of course becoming queen was good enough reason for many women in the kingdom, but there was something about her father. And the way she talked about her father.
He would be my exit out of this marriage.
If I could get enough dirt on him, could I use it as leverage to break off the engagement? I had to try. Part of me felt bad for Celia. She was just as much a pawn in this as I was. But she didn’t see it that way. Our earlier conversation in my bedroom, the one where she’d all but told me it was okay to sleep around as long as I was discreet, said as much.
She was not in this for love, but she was not in this for money.
She was in this for power. For herself. For her family. And most definitely for her father. I needed to find out why.
After the wedding planner left, I stayed. Celia expected it; I could tell by the way she never let go of my hand, her fingers crushing mine. We sat on the couch and she immediately moved in closer.
“You know—” Her green eyes fired up. “You could have offered your opinion.”
“About what?”
She scoffed, “With the wedding plans. It would help the situation for everyone if you at least tried to enjoy this.”
I needed to tread lightly. She wasn’t going to call off this engagement. That much was clear. And if I didn’t play nice, she’d likely go tattling to her daddy, who would in turn go to my father. And I didn’t want to deal with another of his threats. Jessa couldn’t afford it.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m just…in shock, still, I think. It’s not your fault.”
Okay, it kind of was her fault.
“You can’t be a bachelor forever,” she said. “Eventually this was bound to happen. But marriage won’t be that bad, I promise.” I wasn’t sure I liked the way she said promise. Any promise she made came attached to strings I didn’t want to pull.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked, pushing for a weak spot.
She paused. “I’m going to be your wife. You need to trust me.”
“How can I trust you? I don’t even know you.”
“Then get to know me.” She stood and strode to the window. This was a game of cat and mouse. The problem she didn’t seem to understand? I didn’t want the mouse.
I changed tactics. “Let’s have dinner with your family again.” I swallowed, careful to keep my tone playful. “I didn’t do a very good job last time, I’m afraid.”
She turned, a smile back on her lips. “That’s a great idea. I’ll call and arrange it for tonight.”
So soon…
But with a wedding date in less than two months, I didn’t have a lot of options left. If I was going to get something on this family, I couldn’t waste a day. The sooner, the better.
“I’m looking forward to it.” I joined her at the window, kissed her gently on the cheek, and left her to daydream about a wedding that would never happen.
“We have news.” My father strode into my room without even a knock. He rarely did that. My large bedroom—with a sitting area, bathroom, and adjoining office—had always been my own private space. But there was a light in his eyes tonight, an excitement, and he couldn’t help himself from sharing it.
“Good news?” I said, standing from the couch where I’d been trying to distract myself with a book. I was meeting Celia for dinner in a few minutes, and the very thought of it made my stomach squirm.
“Great news,” my father said.
He closed the door behind him and smiled widely. I stepped back. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a genuine smile on the man. Of course, Mom’s death hadn’t been easy for anyone, but even before that, he’d held a permanent scowl while around me. It was only in the presence of cameras that he seemed to transform into the charming king the people thought they knew.
“We’ve received more reports back from the attack. It appears that even though West America was expecting something, they weren’t very well prepared. In just a few short days, we’ve taken over thousands of miles of their eastern territory.”
&nbs
p; My gut twisted in knots, but I nodded. I was stuck, unable to side with any end result the attack could have gone.
“Of course, there’s work to be done. Their most populated areas is the west coast, but we’ve cut them off from a lot of important farmland.”
His smile was magnetic. Gleeful. I was kind of disgusted to think he was excited about cutting people off from food.
“That’s great, Dad. I’m glad things are going your way.” I hated it. I hated lying. I wanted to go back to the days where I could tell this man off without such harsh consequences. But with the forced engagement and Jessa’s safety on the line, I needed to play nice.
He was a fool too because his face lit up when I called him Dad. It was manipulative. I’d been using his first name for years.
“I’m glad to see you’re starting to understand, son.” He put his hand on my back, leading me to the door. “I want you to keep attending briefings with me. It seems it’s doing you good.”
I wanted to laugh. No, it’s called blackmail. That’s why I’m playing nice. I clenched my fists.
“I heard you’re having dinner with your beautiful fiancée tonight and her parents,” he said. “I would join you, but I’m going to be helping Faulk select which alchemists to send out next.”
I stopped. “Not her.”
“A deal’s a deal. Keep up your end, and I’ll always keep up mine.”
Relief washed through me.
He walked me to Celia’s suite, because I was apparently picking them up to come back to our dining room. They were waiting eagerly, dressed stylishly and regally. The women wore extravagant gowns and the men wore tailored suits, as was customary for a royal dinner. Not that I expected anything less. It’s how we did things at the palace. It wasn’t like when I was with Jessa, when I could wear jeans and a t-shirt. When I could just be myself.
The family exchanged pleasantries with my father before he took off toward the officers’ wing, and I led them back to our home. I was distracted, barely paying attention to the conversation. I needed to focus. If I was going to get something on Mark, I had to get serious about what I was doing.
