The Queen of All That Lives (The Fallen World Book 3)

Home > Paranormal > The Queen of All That Lives (The Fallen World Book 3) > Page 29
The Queen of All That Lives (The Fallen World Book 3) Page 29

by Laura Thalassa


  I go to read it, but Heinrich catches my arm and gives me a warning look. “You don’t have time for this.”

  “I need to know that he’s okay.”

  The grand marshal gives me a look that’s scarily similar to the ones General Kline used to give me. “Your Majesty, you have a job to finish. Be strong, so that the men that have died today will not have done so in vain.”

  If I could, I would stay rooted here until I was positive the king was completely healed, but Heinrich’s right.

  I draw in a deep breath and nod.

  “The body?” I ask.

  “It’s waiting for you in the passageways, just as we discussed.”

  I place a hand on the Sleeper. The machine will save my husband. I have to believe that. “Montes stays inside this until I return, or until … the alternative.” I can’t have him foiling me this far in.

  “I will see you tomorrow, my queen.”

  I stare at the officer in the eyes. I don’t think either of us actually believes that, but I incline my head anyway.

  “Be safe my queen,” he says.

  The last thing I’ll be is safe.

  Chapter 53

  Serenity

  The body I drag out of the palace is burned past the point of recognition. The mutilation is intentional since the body is not that of the king.

  It’s Marco. The original one.

  I gave him the death he deserved. As much as I hated the man, I know in my heart of hearts this is how he would want his final death to go. His life for his friend’s.

  I glance back down at the body. Heinrich’s men were really liberal with the lighter fluid.

  This isn’t going to work.

  It can’t possibly.

  Soon after I exit the palace, I catch sight of Marco—the living one. He jogs up to me, unwittingly grabbing his double’s legs and helping me carry him down the back steps.

  Around us the palace still burns, and I can hear the sound of gunfire as the king’s men fight the ground troops the WUN brought in as a distraction.

  So many men will die today. I hope this will be the last bits of death that this war will claim.

  “What took you so long?” Marco asks as we cross the gardens, winding our way around the elaborate hedges, some of which are on fire.

  I give him a look that plainly says, Are you fucking kidding me?

  “I’m dragging a grown man,” I say.

  He grunts, like I have a point.

  We make our way to the beach, where a small group waits. Heinrich’s men have been ordered to avoid attacking us unless it would appear suspicious not to. But they are legitimately preoccupied at the moment, so the need doesn’t arise. Now we just have to avoid getting hit by stray bullets.

  When Marco and I arrive on the sand, the WUN men close in on us. Amongst them is Styx Garcia, his scars even more prominent in person.

  He stares at me with wonder. “The mythical queen in the flesh.” He bows his head, but he can’t quite tear his eyes from me. “An honor.”

  Yeah, whatever.

  Some of the soldiers take the body from Marco and me and began to load it into the boat.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask Styx. He hasn’t stopped staring at me.

  “Meeting you in person, as promised. I am escorting you and the king’s former right-hand,” he gestures to Marco without looking at him, “to the West.”

  My gaze cuts to Marco, who’s openly scowling at Styx.

  “Alright,” I say with a shrug, brushing past him to board the boat. This is where my control in the situation begins to unravel. If the West thought this was a decent idea, then I’ll go along with it. And if I happen to kill the leader of the First Free Men en route, that’s on them.

  One of the WUN soldiers steps in front of me. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” one of them says, “but we can’t let you bring your weapons onboard.”

  I glance back at Marco, who shrugs. “It’s their policy,” he says as he divests himself of his weapons. They hit the shallow water we stand in with a splash.

  I’ve been here before. I’m not leaving my father’s gun.

  “You’re not taking my weapons, and I don’t give a shit if you think this flies in the face of diplomacy.”

  “Your Majesty,” one of the soldiers says, “the representatives—”

  Fuck the representatives.

  “I can walk right back into the palace, douse the flames, and continue to war with the West as the Queen of the East,” I say. “You and I both know I have the backing of the people. So I suggest you let me take my damn guns and we get on with it.”

  They don’t look like they’re going to get on with anything.

  “Let the queen have her weapons,” Styx says, crowding in close and covering my hand, which is resting on my holster, with his own.

  I tighten my jaw. Those mad eyes of his bore into me, and they contain no little amount of heat.

  I can feel Marco stiffening at my side, and I swear I’d say he was acting protective. He was in love with a woman who looked just like me. Of course he’s being protective.

  I shoulder past both of them, stepping onto the boat, and no one else tries to stop me.

  Once we’re all boarded, the motorboat cuts through the water, moving out into open water. This time, I don’t get seasick, though I’m not surprised. At the moment I’m too hopped up on adrenaline and desensitized from the earlier attack to notice something like nausea.

  “It is a strange thing,” Styx says, looking over at the body. “The king is very badly burned, and yet you appear unharmed.”

  I expected this.

  I raise an eyebrow. “It wouldn’t be so strange if you’d been there.”

  Styx cocks his head. “Perhaps. Or perhaps our sleeping queen is now a scheming queen.”

  I lean back in my seat and squint up at the sun, ignoring the stares. “I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”

  The tension on the boat ratchets up at my words.

  “We will.”

  At some point we exchange boat for helicopter, then helicopter for aircraft.

  I’m pensive as I stare out the window. These might be the last hours of my life. I should savor them. Instead, I spend that time letting my mind drift, unwilling to let my thoughts settle on any one thing.

  Marco sits at my side. Every several minutes, he glances over like he wants to talk. Each time he does, I tense. What could we possibly have to say to one another? He betrayed his friend, and I know he thinks I did as well.

  “Garcia has been staring at you since we boarded,” he finally says.

  “I know,” I say, not bothering to look away from the window.

  Marco’s voice lowers. “He’s not a good man.”

  “I know,” I repeat. These aren’t epiphanies or anything.

  Marco grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. “He’s been married twice,” he says, his voice low. “Both women bore strong resemblances to you. Both died mysteriously.”

  “What do you want me to do about it, Marco?” I hiss. “Now take your goddamned hand off of me.”

  Reluctantly, he releases my chin. “I can’t protect you once we’re in WUN territory.”

  “I didn’t ask you to.” I’m insulted he thinks I need protecting, and I’m even more annoyed that he thinks I’m ignorant about Styx’s perversions. If there ever was a man who I should be immediately wary of, Styx would be it.

  “Just be careful. He’s going to come for you at some point. I want you to be ready.”

  I stare at him for several seconds. My eyes flick up to Styx, who is indeed still watching me, and I nod.

  I can already tell Styx is not someone to underestimate.

  Not an hour a
fter our conversation, the aircraft begins its descent.

  The walled city comes into view. It looks even more magnificent as we circle it, the bright blue water of the Pacific nicely framing the city nestled in the coastal cliffs.

  We touch down shortly after that, bouncing in our seats as the aircraft’s tires skid down the runway.

  We’re here.

  As soon as the engines die down, I stand. Resolve steals over me.

  I will be the king’s Trojan horse.

  That’s the promise I made all those years ago. To make it past the gates and wreak destruction from the inside out. But unlike Troy, there are no heroes here. Just killers and corpses.

  I head down the aisle, and as I pass Styx, his head swivels to follow my movements. I can sense his excitement. Just like the representatives, I’m sure he thinks of me as nothing more than a war prize.

  I am exactly that, and I will lead to the downfall of this nation.

  Chapter 54

  Serenity

  Once we exit the plane, Marco and I are taken in one direction, the body in another.

  Dozens of guards escort us from the airfield. No one from the West mentions what’s going on or where they’re taking us. Half of me is sure we’re being led straight to an execution. But then Marco and I are loaded into armored cars and driven up to the Iudicium, the domed building I’d so recently been in.

  On either side of the street people crowd the sidewalks, cheering. Ever since my father and I entered Geneva, I’ve been on the losing side of those cheers.

  Our car pulls up to the Iudicium, and Marco and I are unloaded from the vehicle and led inside. Rather than entering the circular courtroom, our guards steer us to an elevator.

  We arrive on the third floor and then we’re shuffled down a wing of the building. In the short time I’ve been here, no one’s tried to take my weapons. I wonder how long that will last.

  Eventually, the group of us halt in front of a solid wood door. I still have no idea what’s going on.

  Marco stops alongside me.

  “Not you,” one of the soldier’s barks. “That’s the former queen’s room.”

  Former queen. The WUN is already taking efforts to strip me of my titles.

  “I’m still Queen of the East, soldier.” I say to the guard that spoke. “Do yourself and your leaders a favor and don’t piss me off until after we have a signed peace agreement.”

  The guard dips his head and manages to bite out, “Apologies, Your Majesty.”

  Marco leans in. “Be careful,” he whispers. I don’t have time to get a good look at his face before he’s led farther down the hall.

  Five guards remain at my side, and while one of them is busy unlocking the door, another says, “The representatives would like to give you a chance to sleep before you meet with them. They give you their regards and look forward to speaking with you in person tomorrow.”

  The door to my room opens, and a luxurious guest suite waits for me on the other side. I assess it like one would a trap.

  “Please,” one of the guards says, gesturing for me to enter.

  I eye him, just to let him know I am no fool. I’m aware that as soon as the door closes behind me, I’ll be locked in.

  Knowing this doesn’t change the fact that I’m supposed to at least attempt to go along with the West’s schemes. So I step inside.

  “We’ll be posted outside your doorway and along the halls for your protection.” So don’t try anything.

  “Tomorrow at eight a.m.,” the soldier continues, “we will escort you to the representatives.”

  The soldier doesn’t wait for my response. The door closes behind me. Just for the hell of it, I try the doorknob.

  It doesn’t budge.

  Short of shooting my way out of this room, I’m trapped.

  I bathe, washing off the smoke and dust that seems as though it’s embedded itself into my skin.

  After I finish, I shake out my old clothes and put them back on. Briefly I eye the platter of cheeses and cold cuts someone’s left out for me, along with a pitcher of water and an uncorked bottle of wine.

  If only I trusted the representatives not to poison me. Instead I drink water from the tap. Even if the WUN’s water supply doesn’t filter out radiation, I’d rather take my chances with it than with these men.

  I unholster my guns, and once I make sure the safety’s off on both of them, I place the weapons under the pillows of the large bed that dominates the room. Most people that enter this walled city don’t come out alive. If they come for me, I’m not dying without a fight.

  Pulling back the covers, I slide into bed, combat boots and all. Just to be ready.

  Now that I’m in bed, my body at rest, my mind only wants to return to one thing.

  The king.

  My throat closes up at the thought of him. I should’ve forced Heinrich to let me see the Sleeper’s readout, I should’ve stayed longer to make sure Montes lived through his wound. I can’t bear the thought of that powerful body of his devoid of life. Life that I snuffed out.

  My chest tightens. He survived the gunshot. I have to believe that.

  I cover my eyes with my hand. I shouldn’t be worrying about the king when I’m currently sleeping in the lion’s den. The odds of me escaping this place aren’t good.

  I fall asleep without realizing it, and when I wake, it’s dark out. I’m disoriented before I remember. The bombs, the king whom I fatally shot, the flight over.

  And now this.

  The king’s reckoning came yesterday. Mine will come today.

  Grabbing my guns, I get up and sit at the window that faces out onto the street below. The city is dark beyond. Every so often I see a light glimmer from somewhere far off in the distance.

  Even here in the WUN’s capital, the world is bleak. I’d hoped that a century would be long enough for my homeland to get back on its feet, but obviously it wasn’t.

  I lean my head against the window. I should get back to bed; I need the sleep. But I can already tell it won’t happen anytime soon. I’m too wired, and even if I wasn’t, the West has a habit of snatching people up in the night.

  So I watch and I wait.

  I’m comfortable with this. There’s a lot about war that is simply waiting. Waiting to kill. Waiting to die. Waiting, waiting, waiting.

  Hours pass before I hear footsteps moving down the hall, straight towards my room.

  I pull out one of my guns but don’t bother aiming it. Not yet.

  Is it Marco? A representative? My executioner?

  My money is on this last one.

  The door that’s been locked since I entered now creaks open.

  I wait as a shadow enters the room. It’s big enough for me to know it’s a man, probably a soldier on active duty.

  I wait, studying the individual while they cross the floor and head towards my bed. Their eyes clearly haven’t adjusted, or else they’d know I was no longer in it.

  Now I point the gun.

  “Were you planning on killing me in my sleep?” I rise to my feet slowly as I speak, gun still trained on my target.

  “My queen.”

  Styx.

  He’s going to come for you at some point.

  I step away from the window, my aim trained on Styx’s chest. “Or were you simply going to rape me?”

  Styx isn’t like Montes. He might want me just as the king did all those years ago, but at least then the king had struggled with the morality of the situation. This man hasn’t. I sense that if he gets the chance, he’ll assault me and he’ll enjoy it.

  Just knowing that has me putting pressure on the trigger.

  “I came to talk,” he says. I see his silhouette lean against the wall next to my bed.

 
; “And that’s why you knocked.” If I shot this man now, how would that affect my meeting with the representatives? It’s very, very tempting.

  “I still can’t believe you’re real,” he says in a hushed tone. “That you have a personality behind that face. I’ve wondered what you would be like. I didn’t imagine this.”

  He takes a step forward, out of the shadows. The moonlight catches the contours of his face. It brings out his scars. He looks more monster than man.

  “That’s the last step you get,” I say. “Move towards me again, and you’re going to bleed.”

  He lifts his hands in the air, like that’ll appease me. “I wanted to speak privately with you.”

  “There’s no such thing as privacy here, Garcia.”

  “I don’t want to talk about politics,” he says.

  That leaves personal affairs. “We have nothing else to talk about.”

  “Come now, my queen, we will be working closely together in the coming days, and you need friends in this world.” He’s the worst type of predator. I’m amazed that after everything he’s seen of me, and after that sneaky entrance of his, he still thinks he can convince me to let down my guard.

  “You think I’ve never come across men like you? You think I haven’t killed men like you?” I say. “There are cemeteries of them beneath this earth.”

  “Are you trying to scare me?” He hasn’t dropped his jovial act.

  “My first victims were exactly like you. Big men who thought that they could take advantage of a little girl. They picked the wrong girl.”

  Attached to Garcia’s side I can see the handle of a wicked knife. It’s the kind of weapon that you used to subdue someone. Place it right next to their jugular and you’ll get a person to cooperate real well.

  I have no doubt he was going to use that on me.

  “I don’t know who you think I am,” Styx says, starting to sound aggravated, “but I came here to get to know you. Nothing more.”

 

‹ Prev