I touch the curled end closest to me, smiling down at the roughly drawn lines. The brittle paper crinkles under my fingertip. Rayce can cook, but he doesn’t have much of an eye for drawing.
“What?” he asks, catching me smiling.
“Nothing.” I clear my face. “So why is the rebellion going through so much trouble for a single girl?”
Rayce’s brow furrows at my question, and I realize how heartless it sounds. But even I know it’s probably not a good strategy to risk so much for a single person. I wanted to help the lives of almost fifty girls and had to prove myself before my request was considered, because of the danger of sending in more of his people. There has to be a reason, and I want to know why it’s worth it to him before I risk my life.
“I didn’t mean that you shouldn’t,” I clarify. “I’m just curious, since it’s so dangerous going into the city.”
Rayce frowns, turning away from me to face the map. It casts the top half of his face in shadow.
“Because if we don’t, we might lose Piper,” he says.
“I’m not sure that’s such a bad thing.”
He shakes his head.
“That would be the worst thing to happen to us. She was the one who discovered the properties of Zarenite, and without her genius of harnessing it and creating the stunners, we wouldn’t stand a chance against Delmar. As it is, my uncle’s army outnumbers ours twenty to one. Without the stunners leveling the playing field, my rebellion would’ve been crushed within a week. I owe everything to Piper’s curiosity and Oren’s strategic mind.”
No matter how I try to picture it, I can’t imagine Piper putting in all that effort for the cause. She doesn’t seem like the type who would willingly do something for others.
“Her only condition for joining the rebellion was that no one she loved got hurt. We did our best and were able to keep her and her sister safe for the past five months, but then she took her sister on an expedition near Imperial City while testing a new weapon, and they were attacked. Piper made it out, but Sun soldiers captured her sister. It was a promise we shouldn’t have made, because no one is truly safe at war, but I feel like I owe it to her to make it right.”
“Is that why she was so against sending forces to help the Flowers?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says. “She doesn’t believe it’s right to free others when we have already promised our army elsewhere. That’s why I’ve been working on this new plan to free everyone. But I don’t think it’ll succeed without your help.”
I trace my finger slowly around a compass at the bottom of the map while I think over his answer.
Rayce points to a dotted line on the eastern side of the castle. “That’s the entrance that we need to get to. It’s been blocked off, but Piper is figuring out a way around it.”
“Okay.”
“And this is what I need you for.”
He unrolls a second piece of parchment. I lean over the crude map and breathe in the multiple layers of ink staining the page. A thousand little indents and fingerprints smudge most of the lines, but the gist remains.
The map details a large canyon with towers perched on both sides, one labeled “East Tower” and the other “West Tower.” Two lines connect them, creating a wide, oval shape with tiny squares dotting it at even intervals. I furrow my brow, trying to interpret what’s on the page.
“I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking at,” I say.
“Clearly I’m not the best artist.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Basically, there are two platforms here held up by the towers.” He motions to the map. “These square things here are prisoner cells. They’re suspended by heavy wires.”
“So the prisoners are hanging?”
He nods.
“Over what?”
“About a five-hundred-foot drop.”
“Oh.”
The proper reaction would be nervousness. I know that. And yet, it feels like such a small price to pay in order to help the other Flowers. I’m more worried about the soldiers in Imperial City than the fall.
He clears his throat. “As soon as the soldiers see the rescue party, they’ll freeze the levy system, which means Kyra will be stuck. If that happens, someone’s going to have to walk across the wire to retrieve her.”
“And you thought that with the unique skill set I used to perform for the Garden, I might be able to do that.”
With a nod, he adds, “I won’t lie to you, it’ll be dangerous. But you’ll only have to cross to get to her.”
He reaches into his sack and pulls out a stunner, then hands it to me. Instead of the empty barrel where the Zarenite comes out, a spool of silver wire is rolled up in it. A sharp hook hangs out the bottom.
“Piper invented this after finding out where Delmar moved her sister. Arlo will shoot the end into the ceiling when you reach her cage, and you should be able to use the cable to slide down to him, as long as he keeps hold of the other end.”
I purse my lips, thinking over his plan. There isn’t even a remote chance I’d survive a drop like he described, but my fear of heights was forced out during years of training in the Garden. I could walk across a high wire with my eyes closed.
“What about the Garden?” I say.
He rubs his chin, considering his words before saying, “While you’re with the first group down in the dungeon, I’ll send a second smaller group to the Garden. With your previous master out searching the land for my uncle, I doubt there will be too much resistance. I’ll hand select the best I can afford. I’ll be leading up the final party that will act as a distraction so you can slip in unnoticed.”
The Gardener’s threat slithers around my brain, his toxic voice mixing with the pealing shrill of Fern’s dying screams. I will not sentence another girl to die by Shears’s cruel hands, and if helping the rebellion save Piper’s sister will also help save the Flowers, then the choice is already made. Though laying some ground rules might make the process go a little smoother.
“I’ll do it on two conditions,” I say.
Rayce turns to look at me, our faces mere inches apart. “Go on.”
“You have to let me see the soldiers you’re sending, and you have to promise to be more forthcoming with information that will directly affect me.”
His mouth curls up at the corners. “Still don’t trust us?”
“Haven’t given me much reason to,” I return.
“I think both of your requests can be accommodated. So you have a deal.”
“Don’t you need to discuss it with your council first?” I tease.
My joke earns me a laugh.
“It’ll be our little secret.” His eyes dance around my face, and his warm, honey-scented breath tickles my cheek. I should look away, but I’m pinned under the nearness of him. My skin still hums from where he hugged me, where he made me whole for a tiny sliver in time. The girls in the Garden used to whisper about kisses, stolen sloppily in the darkness by unwanted men, and I could never understand why someone would want one. But as I stare at Rayce’s lips, I wonder what it would be like to press mine against them. Would they be soft? What would they taste like—sweet like the cookies he eats or strong like the words he uses to command his troops?
As if he can hear my questions, he inches closer, ready to answer them.
A tinkling bell echoes down the hallway outside the room, dancing its way across the air. He startles at it, blinking twice.
“Is it that time already?” He straightens and presses his hand over his eyes, hiding his intentions from me. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your room. I’ve got a lot of work to do if we’re going to be attempting dual missions in a few days.”
It already looks like he hasn’t rested since we’ve returned from the mission. I have no idea how he can run on no energy and expect to win.
“Shouldn’t you get some sleep first?”
He pulls the chair out for me and I get up, aware of the absence of his warmth.
“Sleep? Who has time
for that?”
Then he motions with his palm for me to exit first. But as we step into the hallway, disappointment blooms, knowing we’ll be separated soon. I yank that weed before it can spread and move as close to the wall as the narrow tunnel will allow. He places his hand on the opposite wall, a green vein of Zarenite springing to life, and then leads me deeper into the base.
“You might want to consider getting a tattoo before we leave for this next mission,” he says. “Of course, that would mean joining the rebellion. Officially.”
The casual way he mentions it rubs me wrong, almost like the entire scene back in his office was just to convince me to join his cause. I haven’t decided what I’ll do once my sisters are freed, but officially joining the rebellion would be the most dangerous thing for me. I can only avoid them finding out about my past for so long.
“Why would I do that?” I ask.
Rayce clears his throat. “Well, it seemed like you were fitting in well here, and I know some people would miss you if you left—”
“Like?” My heartbeat picks up. Is he implying he might miss me?
“Like Marin,” he finishes.
“Right.” I turn away from him so my eyes don’t reveal the disappointment lodged in my stomach like a stone.
He clears his throat. “Besides, you’ll probably want to operate a stunner. They’re much more compact than a sword, and since you’ll need your mobility for the mission, it’ll be an ideal weapon.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
Rayce ducks under a low patch of ceiling, his face growing closer to mine.
“At the very least, I’ll ask Arlo to train you in shooting one tomorrow,” he says. “That way you’ll be better able to defend yourself, and if you have some Zarenite in you and you get hit by a stunner again, it won’t have such an adverse effect.”
“Or it’ll kill me.”
“Then my suggestion is not to get hit,” he counters.
There’s no way I’m getting a tattoo. Even though I do like Marin, I won’t be staying if the mission goes well. At the next right turn, Rayce stops, and I nearly run into his back. The sudden nearness of him sets my nerves on edge, and the faint scent of honey tickles my nose.
He stands in place, blocking the entire hallway.
“Are we here?” I ask, peeking around him to see the familiar light blue curtain of my quarters.
“I guess we are,” he says, motioning forward. The Zarenite that flickered on overhead just touches the opening of a doorway several yards away.
Rayce puts his hands in his pockets but doesn’t move out of my way. He stares down at the tips of his boots and rubs his lips together slowly like he wants to speak.
“Rose.” He whispers my name like a prayer. He looks up, his face drawn tight. “Do you ever think about what your life would have been like if you weren’t captured by the Gardener?”
His question crashes through me, and silence clings to the air like mist as I take a moment to ponder it. He crosses the space between us in a single step and leans against the wall, staring up at the Zarenite. Our shoulders press together, radiating heat, but either he doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
“No,” I say, my voice firm. “Picturing a different future leads to hope, and hanging on to false hope is deadly in the Garden.”
His rough fingers wrap around mine for a brief second, and he presses them together before letting go. That single touch says more than a thousand sorrys ever will.
“Maybe that’s why I feel miserable so often,” Rayce says, turning to look at me with a sad smile. “I can’t stop myself from thinking about how different my life would have been if my uncle hadn’t pushed the people to their breaking point. If things had worked out better when I was younger, I might not have been forced to fight him or disappoint my mother so thoroughly.”
The hurt when he talks about his mother makes his tone waver, and a tiny piece of my heart aches for him. I’ve known pain that can’t be washed away no matter how hard it’s scrubbed.
“Doesn’t she see the emperor for the monster he is?”
Rayce rubs the back of his neck, not meeting my eyes. “He isn’t a monster to her. He’s the one that secured their family name after their father nearly bankrupted the imperial treasury during his reign and brought some semblance of order back to Imperial City. My uncle gave our family stability, and for my mother, that’s always been the most important thing. To her, I’m the one who broke everything by declaring war against him.” He chuckles, a bitter thing that dies in his throat. “He can do no wrong. He even almost united Delmar and Varsha ten years back.”
That last sentence hits me sharper than a sandstorm in the desert.
He pushes off the wall.
“But it’s late, and I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my family problems, so I’ll let you sleep,” he says and quickly turns back toward the way we came.
“Wait.” I catch his arm. “What did you mean by that?”
He pauses, then turns to face me. “By what?” His voice is strained.
“About your uncle uniting both kingdoms.”
He shakes his head. “If Varsha hadn’t fallen, the negotiations my uncle and the old Varshan king were working through would have been settled, and I would have been married to their princess. Maybe in that future, Delmar wouldn’t have been torn to pieces and the people would finally be at ease.”
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing will come out.
“That dream died the same day the Varshan princess did.” He bows his head, maybe at her memory or maybe at the death of the whole thing. “But I hope you know that doesn’t mean we should stop dreaming. Otherwise, my uncle really will win.”
He waves from behind him, not even bothering to look back as he leaves me. If he had, he would have seen my trembling hands and the way I have to lean against the wall to stay standing. And he would have read the truth written all over my face.
Strands of my father’s long black beard tickle the top of my head as he leans over to kiss me good night, the blue silken covers of my bed tucked up to my chin.
“Daddy, you look tired,” I say, yawning.
He turns on my favorite night-light, one of the last things I have of my mother. The ornate golden cylinder shoots jewel-colored lights all over the room, sending them dancing over the ceiling like rainbow stars.
Father sits next to me on the bed, and the weight is comforting. He pulls from his head the Jewel of the Sand, the crown passed down from generations of Varshan rulers, and places it carefully on his lap.
“It has been a long day, my sweet,” he says. “Your father’s been talking with an ambassador of Delmar since the morning.”
I scrunch up my nose, remembering the lesson I’d just finished with Madame Patel about the barbarians of the west.
“Why would you do that?” I ask. “Madame Patel says they don’t even believe in the Great Creatress.”
“Don’t be so quick to judge,” Father says, tapping me gently on the nose. “Always remember to be kind. That is a princess’s job. And a king’s job is to try to maintain peace for his people. That’s what I was doing today, and you get to help me with that. Would you like that?”
“Of course,” I say, sitting up.
He smiles. “One day, when you’re much older, you and the young prince of Delmar are going to unite this kingdom for the better.”
He touches my cheek with gentle fingertips, and I fall asleep, one of the last nights I’d ever spend tucked in that bed with my father watching over me.
Ten days later, Varsha fell, just after my father made that deal with Galon, the emperor of Delmar. Rayce’s uncle. Was my arranged marriage part of the reason why?
Surviving in the Garden forced me to forget who I was. And even though I knew from the beginning that Rayce was meant to take the throne after his uncle, I never connected him with the young prince of Delmar I was supposed to marry. Not this man with healing hands and mischief in his eyes.
My stomach rolls, but somehow I stay upright. I look down the tunnel where the man who might have been my husband in another life disappeared, taking with him a thousand possibilities that flicker into darkness like the Zarenite above me.
Chapter Twenty
The night passes in a blur as I toss and turn over what would have been. The book Oren gave me feels like a rock underneath my pillow. The answers might be on those pages, but I’m too afraid to check after the secret Rayce revealed last night. What else will I find between that bound parchment that will shatter what I thought I knew about my life?
For the first time in years, I let myself dream big. Rayce carved out the missing pieces of a future I could have had with him by my side. Maybe in that world, I wouldn’t shudder every time he drew near. What would he have done if I’d told him who I am last night? Who I was. And how is it that, even though I’m supposedly dead and he’s no longer in line for the throne, we managed to find each other?
Not that it matters.
I clench my fist, feeling the way my nails bite into my palms to bring myself back to the present. Dreams won’t help me now. After breakfast, I try to decipher Marin’s directions to the training room for a third time but wonder if I took a wrong turn somewhere. Nothing about this newest hallway looks any different from the one before it.
“Stupid tunnels,” I mumble under my breath, stopping.
The sharp zap-zap of a stunner reaches my ears from a little farther down the hall.
Sweat drips down my face as I stop in front of a doorway deep inside the mines of the rebellion.
I take a deep breath and enter before the shouting in my head can talk me out of it. After the maze of tunnels, I’m not in an ideal condition to focus on weapon training, but since we’re leaving in a few days, I don’t have time to be picky.
The last time I practiced sword fighting in the training room, it was a jumble of weapons and bodies crammed in the close quarters. But now that it’s empty, I realize the ceiling is only a few inches higher than the hallway, and the room itself is only about ten times the size of my sleeping quarters. A cluster of swords, a few axes, a handful of crossbows, and a row of stunners hang neatly on the wall to my right, and four wooden targets line the back of the room. Arlo stands near the door, aiming his stunner at a human-shaped target in the back of the room. Black burn marks scour the wood on its chest.
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