by Krista McGee
“Oh, I know.” The guard laughs, and I want to pull away and tell him what is really going on. But then, Alex very likely just saved my life. I keep my head down and feel the guard give Alex a pat on the back. “Sorry to disturb you, Your Majesty.”
Alex doesn’t let go until the guard is down the stairs. When he pulls away, he puts a finger to his mouth and motions me to follow him to his room.
I shake my head. Alex lifts his hands in the gesture of surrender, mouths Please. His eyes dart back to the stairs.
I go, but I keep my back to the door after Alex closes it. He defended me back there, but he also stood by and allowed me to be drugged all this time. I cannot trust him.
“I went to your room after I left my father’s chambers,” Alex whispers. He takes a step closer, his eyes full of sympathy, kindness. But maybe the drugs make me think that. I cannot even trust my own thoughts anymore. “You followed me.”
He isn’t asking a question. He knows. Of course he knows. He heard me on the stairs. But he did not tell the guard. “Why did you lie for me?”
“You were hiding in the king’s quarters.” Alex runs a hand through his hair. “Do you have any idea what would happen to you if he found out?”
“I don’t know. I would be killed violently and the murder blamed on New Hope?”
Alex closes his eyes. When he opens them, he points to a sitting area at the far side of the room. Away from the door. “Please sit and let me explain.”
I refuse to move. My hand is on the doorknob. “I heard it all. Your father tells everyone what to do and they do it. If he is feeling generous, he drugs them so they think they want to do what he has commanded. But if not, they just deal with it. Because he is the king. And you are next in line for the throne.”
“I am not like my father.” Alex is standing inches from me now. His voice is still low but firm. His blue eyes are huge in the dark room. He seems genuine. “Please, just listen to me.”
I recall his conversation with the king. Alex was not happy with the plan. He tried to defend me. He obviously tried to defend his sister in the past. The drugging was not his idea, nor was the marriage or the murder. The least I can do is listen to what he has to say. “Fine. Explain.”
I walk to a chair covered in—what else?—black. Alex sits across from me, hands on his knees. “How much did you hear?”
I tell him what I heard. If I am to have any possible ally here, it will be Alex. And if he turns out to be another enemy—what does it matter? The ruler of the country is plotting my murder. I need someone more powerful than him to save me. Thankfully, I know someone like that. I breathe a prayer to him, asking him to keep the anger from me, to help me think the best of this boy—my “fiancé.”
“Is there more?” I ask, after I relayed the conversation I overheard.
“No.” Alex reaches for my hand. I do not allow him to take it. “Father has been seeking war with New Hope for years, and we’ve had some successful skirmishes. But the soldiers are uncomfortable taking the whole village.”
“What about you?” I hold my breath waiting for the answer.
“The people of New Hope have done some cruel things to us in the past.”
“How do you know?”
“My father—”
“And he is always truthful?” I twist my lips.
“He wanted to have my sister killed in order to start a war.” Alex looks away from me, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I would not have let that happen. I was trying to find another way.”
“And then I came along.”
“I won’t let him use you either.” Alex looks at me now, his gaze so intense my mouth goes dry. “We do not need to win a war that way.”
“You’re opposed to killing innocent people?” I think of the villagers.
“Yes.”
“What about the people of New Hope?”
“We don’t have time to talk about that now. We have to get you out of here.” Alex rubs his temples.
“But the only place to go is New Hope.” I raise my eyebrows as he meets my gaze.
Alex shakes his head. “They are our enemies.”
I debate whether or not to reveal to him the extent of my lies. I was angry at Alex for keeping this from me. What will he do when he finds out what I’ve kept from him? Will he refuse to help? Decide I am worthy of this punishment? I close my eyes to pray.
John once told me the truth will set me free. I pray he is right.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
You’re a spy.”
Alex is upset. I understand why. I thought the truth would set me free. And I do feel better for having told it. But Alex certainly does not look free.
“How do I even know if I can believe this?” Alex paces back and forth. “You say the people of New Hope want peace. But what if that’s a lie too? Your plan all along may have been to lure me out, and this is the perfect way. Then I die, and New Hope comes and attacks Athens.”
I groan. This is so complicated. Why did I think it would be simple? “They wouldn’t do that.”
“How do you know? You believe them?”
“Yes.” I raise my hands in surrender. “They are good people. Kind.”
“But you thought that about us too, right?” Alex stops and lifts his eyebrows.
“You drugged me.” I think of how I had been feeling about this town, about Alex. Shame battles with anger.
“I didn’t drug you.”
“But your father did—the king.” I lower my voice, afraid the guard might walk by and overhear us. “The leaders of New Hope at least helped me. Some of them doubted us and were wary of us, but I’d take that over being controlled!”
“Why are you so sure they were helping you?” Alex folds his arms across his chest. “How do you know they weren’t using you too?”
“They didn’t ask me to come.” I step closer to Alex. He will not convince me the villagers of New Hope are evil. “I volunteered, insisted.”
“For what reason?”
“They want peace.” I look Alex in the eyes, will him to listen to me. “The Athenians take what is theirs. Some of the men burned down a house—with people inside. They live in fear of you.”
“As they should.” Alex’s eyes harden. But I understand what he is doing. The same thing I did for years: he is repeating what he has been taught.
“In the State, we were taught that the Scientists worked for our good.” I sit on Alex’s couch. He remains standing but he is listening. “The rules, the programming, separating us in pods, eliminating—attempting to eliminate—emotions and free thought: all of that was to help us be better people than the generations that went before us. And it made sense. I believed them. I still do believe they think they are doing what’s best. But I disagree with them. I don’t think it’s right.”
“Of course it isn’t.” Alex plants his hands on his hips.
“Neither is ruling by force.” I say this softly, but it still sounds harsh. I pause as Alex considers this. “Taking what doesn’t belong to you? Planning a murder to incite war? That isn’t right.”
Alex sighs and sits beside me on the couch. “You know I won’t allow that. But my father is following principles that have been in place for millennia. People need a strong ruler. They should fear him. Pure democracy places decisions in the hands of people who have no business making decisions.”
“So harming innocent people . . . that’s the sign of a good ruler?”
Alex leans his head back. “It’s complicated.”
“Drugging people so you get what you want without argument is a sign of a good ruler?”
“Thalli, what do you expect me to do?” Alex’s gaze drills into mine. “He is my father and the king. We have laws.”
“So did the State.” I stare right back at Alex.
“But their laws were ridiculous.”
“Their laws condemned me to death.” I look toward the door. “Yours have done the same.”
Neither of us speaks for s
everal moments. “So you think New Hope is perfect, then? They should rule over us?”
I think of the chaos after Diana arrived. How some of the people wanted to send her back, knowing that would mean her death. People were so angry, hurt, scared. “No, they aren’t perfect. But they don’t deserve to be destroyed.”
“What do you want me to do?” Alex stands. “I can try to help you escape, but that won’t solve the problem.”
“It will make it worse.” I stand to join Alex. “Your father will argue that New Hope offered me refuge, and he will send an army out after me. He’ll do even more damage to that village.”
“So what, then?”
The answer comes to me quickly. “Escape with me.”
Alex takes in a sharp breath. “What?”
“If you come with me, your father won’t attack. He won’t risk losing you. You are heir to the throne.”
“You don’t know my father.” Alex’s jaw flexes with an emotion I cannot identify.
“It will allow us to go back to New Hope.” The plan is coming together even as I speak. “You can get to know the people, talk with them. Make a plan for peace. Then you can return to your father. Help him to see the benefits of working together.”
“You think more of my father than you should.” Alex shakes his head. “It will not be that simple.”
“Do you have another plan?”
Alex sighs. “No.”
“Then we escape.”
“No.” Alex walks toward me. “We will not escape. We will walk out with his blessing.”
“What?” I see a plan forming in Alex’s eyes. “How?”
Alex places his hands on my shoulders. “After we get married.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
I am getting married.
This does not feel right. Not in any way. I think of John’s story. He married Amy after they had known each other for a long time. They had fallen in love. They chose each other and were married before the Designer, promising to stay together until one of them died. But even now, decades after Amy died, John still thinks of her, misses her.
I do not love Alex. I thought I loved Berk. But I threw that love away when I left. For his own good. I don’t even know if we were right for each other. I am doubting that love the longer I am away from him. But is that a result of the medicines I have been inhaling, or is it truly what is in my heart? I can’t trust my own emotions anymore.
I can’t deny that I have some feelings for Alex. He is certainly attractive. He is kind. We have been thrown together in an impossible situation. The thought of marrying him isn’t repulsive.
Anyway, Alex is right—we have no other choice but to marry. I recall John saying marriage is difficult, no matter who you are with, that it takes work and you don’t always feel love, but you stick with that person anyway. “Till death do you part.”
When we marry, Alex will tell his father we are going away for a few days. It is tradition. A “honeymoon.” The king has a special home outside the walls of Athens. Part of the university that used to be there. No one ever goes there because there is nothing around it—no food, no factories. Somehow, this one residence survived when everything around it fell. The first king of Athens claimed it as his right, but it is only used for private meetings. And the days following a royal wedding.
But we will not actually go to this residence. For that, I am glad. If this were a real marriage and a real honeymoon, what would we do all those days alone together? There are questions I am afraid to ask. I have an idea, but I have no one to ask whether or not my idea is right. Whatever it is that happens then will not happen with us because we will go in the opposite direction. We will go to New Hope. We will tell the people there we want to negotiate peace. Our marriage will provide proof of that.
I am sure the king will not harm the village of New Hope if it means harming Alex as well. But Alex can get to know the people. He can report back to the king that they are kind, hardworking people who simply want to live the way they have lived for the past forty years. We can establish trade between the two cities. Peace. I pray that Gerald and his band will accept that peace, that they won’t harm Alex before they can get to know him. I don’t want to lead Alex into an ambush.
“Thalli?” Helen stands outside my door, as if she is afraid to come in.
We have spoken very little, but since the announcement of Alex’s and my engagement, she has smiled at me in passing. I hoped we would be able to talk more. I cannot see her without thinking of Peter. I wish the wedding could be theirs and not ours. I am sure they would understand what to do on a honeymoon.
“Helen.” She is so different than her brother. Not at all self-assured. She seems frightened. And sad. So sad. Even now that she knows she will not have to be killed. “Come and sit.”
“I should have come to you earlier.” Her voice is quiet, like a piano key that is barely touched. I have to lean close to hear her. “I apologize.”
“There hasn’t been much time.” I want to help her relax. She seems so tense. “I arrived, toured the city, got engaged . . .”
Helen looks at me. Her eyes are as dark as her brother’s are light. I can barely see her pupils. But her eyelashes are long like Alex’s, and her hair is just a shade darker blond than his. She is beautiful. “My father’s decisions are rash.”
There is more to that statement than just the words she has said. There is an anger behind them. Helen looks out the window. I remain quiet, let her think.
“My brother believes you can be trusted.” As she says that, I see some of the fear beginning to release its hold on her.
“I want very much to help.” I am not sure if Alex told his sister of our plan. I do not want to say anything in case he hasn’t. Helen is older than I, but I still have a desire to protect her.
“There are things you don’t understand.” Helen’s gaze darts toward the door. She stands, looks out of it, then shuts it firmly behind her. “Alex told you our mother died?”
“Yes.”
Helen walks quietly back to the couch. She changes subjects so quickly. I wish I could see inside her brain to know how all this connects.
“Did he tell you how she died?”
“No.”
Helen takes a deep breath. “She was murdered.”
“Murdered?” I cannot imagine how that was even possible. This palace is so well guarded. “Who would kill the queen?”
“My father.”
I gasp. The king murdered his own wife? Surely that isn’t right.
“You deserve to know this.” Helen looks at me, her eyes full of compassion. “Alex agrees. You should know what you are facing—who you are facing.”
“Why didn’t Alex tell me?”
“Because my brother wants to protect me.” Helen looks down. She is silent.
I want to shake her, force the story out of her. But I wait because I know I need to.
“I am not the king’s daughter.”
“What?”
“Before my mother was given in marriage to my father, she was in love with another man.” Helen takes in a ragged breath. “But her parents forced her to end that relationship. The king saw my mother, and he wanted her for his son. No one refuses the king. It is an honor to marry the prince.”
“So I’ve heard,” I say. Helen lets out a slight smile and gazes at the floor.
“She married him. But she did not love him. He was not kind.” Helen looks up sharply. “Alex is not like him. He has tried, in order to please him, to behave the way the king wants him to behave. But Alex is a good man. He will be a good husband.”
Husband. The sound of that makes my stomach hurt. “I know.”
“Our mother could not forget her first love. They met secretly. The king—prince at the time—was so busy with his training, he didn’t notice her absences. When she became pregnant, the prince assumed the child was his. When his father died and he ascended the throne, he had little time for my mother or for Alex and me. My moth
er was sure he would never find out. Besides, for several years my mother wasn’t even sure who the father was. It could have been the king.”
The ancient way of procreation is still confusing to me. How could she not know who the father was? “How did your mother know whose you were?”
“It was my eyes.” Helen looks at me, and I am again struck by how dark they are. “No one on either my mother’s or the king’s side has eyes this color. My mother thought little of that, but when I was six, one of the men of the city approached her. He studied science. He told her it was biologically impossible for her and my father to have a child with eyes my color. He knew of my mother’s relationship with my biological father before her marriage.”
“He guessed the truth.”
“Yes.” Helen closes her eyes. “And he made her pay him to remain quiet about it.”
“How awful.”
Helen nods. “For years she gave him whatever he asked for. But five years ago, he was arrested. One of the guards saw him with one of the palace treasures. He refused to say anything. He wouldn’t speak to the officers of the law. He insisted on having a private audience with the king.”
“He told the king about your father.”
Helen’s eyes fill with tears. “The king was so angry. He ordered my mother’s death, my father’s death, and the death of the man who told him.”
“How could he do that?” To kill his own wife—and two others—because he was angry? This is far worse than the Scientists. At least they believed they were helping the State when they chose to annihilate others.
“He is king.” Helen says this so softly, I can barely hear it. “His father taught him the king can do anything, with no consequences. He also taught him that anyone who undermines the king’s authority must be killed.”
“But his own wife?” I am sick. “The people allow him to do that?”
“The people did not know.” Helen wipes a tear from her cheek. “My mother didn’t even know it was happening until it was too late. The king had my father and the other man taken outside the city with some of the guards. They told the people they had been killed in a run-in with the people from New Hope. But Mother . . . at first, he just kept her isolated. We didn’t understand why. Alex and I weren’t allowed to see her. Then we were told she was very sick. Doctors came in and out of her room.
