Royal Threat

by Michael Pierce

  “Calm down, Byron,” Mackenzie chided. “There will be plenty of time for catching up. Most of us will be here a while.”

  “I’ll go see what they’re talking about,’ Rod said, clapping me on the shoulder.

  After Rod left, Johanna broke away from her family circle and sat on the edge of the couch, mindful of my extended leg.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked. She had a certain sparkle in her eyes that I was sure drove all the boys she grew up with crazy. Even dressed down from what I expected a typical duchess’s daughter to wear, it was abundantly clear she was stunning. And in a few years, her sister would probably look the same way.

  The problem was when I looked at her—or her mother or sister—all I could see was Victoria. I still hoped we’d hear from Kale with good news, but… Victoria and I had traveled a turbulent road from the beginning. I expected us to remain on that road for a time still.

  “A big improvement from last night,” I said. “I have to say, you really took charge back there. If it hadn’t been for you, who knows what might have happened to us.”

  “I’m sorry you fell.”

  “I can’t really blame anyone but myself.” I was about to say more, but paused at the sound of an electric wheelchair rolling down the hallway.

  Then I saw her as she rounded the entryway to the living room—Princess Amelia. The real one this time.

  “Is that…?” Johanna was rendered speechless.

  Kimera jumped to her feet and curtsied to the Princess. “Your Highness.”

  Lady Ramsey curtsied as well. “It’s such an honor to finally meet you. I am Beatrice Ramsey, the Duchess of the 24th Ward.”

  “Thank you,” Princess Amelia said. “I am also honored.”

  As she spoke, I noticed something different about her—the movement of her face was almost entirely symmetrical. She held her head up straight and strong. Then my gaze fell to her hand holding the joystick of the wheelchair, which looked to be in a much more natural position.

  “Mackenzie, get over here,” I insisted.

  “Yes, Your Highness?” he said sardonically. “Need someone to wipe your ass for you?”

  I was too distracted by the Princess and waved off his sarcasm. “Look at the Princess. Notice anything different about her?”

  Robert walked into the room and stood next to Mackenzie. “You see the difference too?”

  “What treatment have you been giving her?” I asked. “Dr. Crane was adamant she couldn’t miss treatments for long without deteriorating more.”

  “That’s the thing,” Robert said. “I haven’t given her anything.”

  “We still haven’t accounted for Danielle,” I said.

  “Who’s Danielle?” Lady Ramsey asked.

  “One of the other girls,” Mackenzie said. “This isn’t Danielle. I know what happened to the Queen, but this isn’t another disguise. We’ve had her before the other girls started showing up. She’s been in Robert’s care the whole time. There was no swap. This is the real Princess Amelia.”

  “Of course I am,” she said. “Who else would I be?”

  I didn’t know how much Princess Amelia knew about the other girls, not to mention the Queen, and now was not the time to get into it. But if this was really her, the changes were remarkable.

  “You haven’t given her anything?” I asked.

  Robert shook his head. “And within a few days of her being here, I began to see the improvements.”

  I couldn’t believe what this truly meant. “Was she ever really sick?”

  “Probably,” Mackenzie said. “But not with something modern science couldn’t cure.”

  “The doctors—Dr. Sosin and Dr. Crane—they were helping me,” Princess Amelia said, her eyes darting around to those of us gathered around her.

  “Hey, look at this,” Mina called urgently from the other side of the room. She’d turned on the television, on which scrolled a Breaking News banner at the bottom of the screen.

  Everyone’s attention turned from the Princess to the television just in time to see the Breaking News message begin again: Prince Byron DuFour of Easteria is a person of interest in Queen Dorothea Hart’s death, and wanted for questioning. Please contact local ward authorities if you have any information.

  I couldn’t believe the palace was announcing such a statement to the entire Kingdom, which I knew would also reach my parents within hours. Since I wasn’t killed in last night’s raid, this was how they planned to flush me out. I read the statement over and over again as it continued to scroll. Mina changed the channel, but the banner remained on every channel to ensure it wasn’t missed by a soul in the Kingdom.

  Lady Ramsey placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “They’re calling you out, but we’re all in this together.”

  But we weren’t all together. I needed Victoria and had no idea what had happened to her.

  “We won’t turn you in, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Mackenzie said, grinning like a guilty child, then turned to Rod and Robert. “We’d better get rid of those cars.”

  My attention gravitated back to the television and the inciting news banner while my thoughts returned to Victoria and our turbulent road ahead.

  I will not go gentle.

  # # #

  Bonus: Kale

  1

  “Isn’t there something her father can do?” I asked, fighting hard to get all the words out. “Isn’t he a doctor?”

  “He’s done all he can for her,” Celeste’s mother, Abagail, said. “All we can do now, is keep her comfortable until the end. She’s in the good Lord’s hands now.”

  I refused to believe there was nothing that could be done. If I would be allowed to transport her to my settlement, I was confident Dr. Stetson could do something for her. Though Abagail wouldn’t hear of it. Celeste was far too weak to travel. Abagail wanted her daughter to slip into the next world peacefully from the comfort of her own bed.

  The house was quiet, as if death had already descended upon it like a lowering fog. When I slowly entered Celeste’s room, I felt that heaviness already creeping in.

  She was a beautiful sight, even now. I remembered the first time I’d laid eyes on her, less than half a year ago, and thought, this is the girl I will one day marry. Of course, I was too young—then and now—and hadn’t even heard her speak, but something inside me just knew she was the one. And I did speak to her that day and saw a positive light in her eyes, a light no one in this world could extinguish. I saw how my parents looked at each other, and I wanted that. I didn’t know how this girl would fit into my world of scavenging and infiltration, but I was determined to find out.

  Now, it seemed that would never come to pass. I shielded her from my dangerous world, working up to an introduction that would never be realized.

  I sat in the handcrafted chair beside Celeste’s bed. She was asleep, and I wasn’t about to wake her. Her mother peered in from the doorway but left after a few quiet moments. There were machines on the opposite side of the bed, but now, they were off. Her lifeline to the machines, to the remaining help we could provide, was broken. Her breaths came shallow, her exhales rhythmic wheezing.

  Her father was supposedly coming home today, and it was sad that it would take Celeste deteriorating to such an extent for me to finally meet him. At least I wasn’t nervous about it anymore.

  I laid a hand on her wrist; her skin felt hot and clammy. I removed the wet cloth from her forehead and dipped it in the basin on the nightstand before returning it to her skin.

  Celeste’s eyes slowly opened and she smiled at the sight of me.

  “Good morning,” she said in a soft voice. Even now, she had the cadence of an angel.

  “I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I said. “I just brought your mom some food and wanted to check in.”

  “I know she appreciates it.”

  “You sound better today,” I said. “You have more color as well.”

  “I feel pretty good,” Celest
e said. “May I have some water? I’m terribly thirsty.”

  I took the plastic cup from beside the basin and brought it close, angling the straw toward her pale lips. She strained for several short sips, then said she’d had enough.

  “Your father’s coming home today,” I said, placing the water cup back on the nightstand.

  “I’m grateful the Queen is giving him time off. When will he be arriving?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know how he’s traveling.”

  “Usually by train,” Celeste said.

  “Then it should only be a few short hours.”

  “I hope he’ll be able to stay for a while.”

  “I hope so too. He should be with you right now.”

  “I know he does his best,” Celeste said, closing her eyes again. “One day, we’ll all be together forever.”

  It was a nice thought, but I had no idea what to expect in the afterlife. If this brutal world was any indication, I wasn’t expecting some eternal happily ever after, but I didn’t want to dampen her spirits.

  “I hope I’m included in that vision,” I said.

  “Of course you are. I love you and I want you by my side always.”

  It hurt to hear her say that because I knew how much our time together was limited. And once she was gone, I would be untethered from this sweet little family. I wouldn’t be spending nearly as much time in the 24th Ward. Celeste was my reason for visiting here so often.

  “These past few months have been the best of my life,” Celeste said, her voice quieter now.

  “Mine too,” I said. “I’m so lucky to have found you.”

  I didn’t expect her to answer. She was drifting back to sleep. I placed my hand on her forearm and found it much cooler than a few minutes prior. I leaned back in the chair and watched the slow rise and fall of her chest.

  My vision blurred as tears formed in my eyes. There was no if any more, only when—and the when seemed to be coming faster than I wanted to admit.

  I quickly wiped my eyes, not wanting Abagail to walk in and see me crying. When I could see clearly again, I noticed Celeste’s breathing had slowed… then seemed to stop.

  “No…” I jumped up from the chair and leaned over her sleeping body. “No, no, no…” My eyes welled up again and there was nothing I could do to stop them as I placed two fingers against her throat. I adjusted my positioning several times, desperate to find a heartbeat, but it was a losing battle. I couldn’t hold onto her. “Abagail! Abagail, get in here!” I cried, my voice escaping in strained squeaks.

  Abagail ran into the room before I even finished calling her name. “What is it?” she asked, but she knew immediately by the look on my face. She dropped to her knees and placed her head beside her daughter’s. Abagail took Celeste’s hand in hers and wept.

  I took a few steps back, to give Abagail some room to grieve for her own—and only—child. She didn’t tell me to leave, but I felt I should. I backed out of the room and dropped onto a sofa in the living room. It wasn’t fair. She was so young and didn’t deserve to be taken so soon—taken from her family, taken from me. I saw myself growing old with her, and was still convincing myself this was just some cruel joke.

  I lay my head on the armrest, curled up on the couch, and closed my eyes. It wasn’t long before I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. Abagail gazed down at me, her cheeks still tear-stricken.

  “She’s in a better place now,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper.

  “Maybe she is, but…”

  “We can be happy for her. She has no more pain. She’s free.”

  I sat up and wiped away my tears. She reached for my hands and pulled me to my feet. Next thing I knew, I was enveloped in her bony arms. I was no longer embarrassed to cry freely.

  “I think I should go,” I said after a long while. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

  “You’re not, but I understand if you feel you need to leave,” Abagail said, releasing me. “You’re always welcome here.”

  I nodded and tried to give her a parting smile. I didn’t want to meet Celeste’s father only to say goodbye. So, without another word between us, I left the house, untied my horse, and galloped away without a single glance back.

  2

  I shouldn’t still be coming to the 24th Ward, but couldn’t seem to stay away. I usually just watched, but occasionally I checked in on Abagail. Since Celeste had passed, her father seemed to come home even less than before. I’d seen him from my distant perch only a few times.

  I rode into town to fetch some groceries for Abagail. When I returned, she’d promised to make us lunch, then we could take a walk to the cemetery together.

  I tied Marigold to a hitching post and walked over to the general store. A girl shouting stopped me from entering.

  “Yes, you. You’ll do,” the girl said from the store next door.

  I looked around, still unsure if she was talking to me. “I beg your pardon?”

  The girl was a pretty blonde and had to be about my age. She had the air and arrogance of a nobleman’s daughter, which turned me off to her immediately.

  She lifted her skirt and petticoat to reveal her smooth calf and a white laced high heeled boot. “We need a boy’s opinion,” she said cheerfully. “Do these boots make my ankles look chubby?”

  I couldn’t believe I was being asked this question. I was tempted to turn without answering and continue into the general store, but she gave a pout and batted her eyes and somehow made me feel sorry for her. It was pathetic.

  “No, m’lady. Your ankles look perfect,” I said and turned to leave.

  “And what about the boots?”

  I stopped and sighed. “They look very nice.”

  “That settles it. I’ll take them—just put them on my tab,” the girl said and started walking toward me.

  “What about your other shoes, m’lady,” someone called from within the store.

  “I’ll send Victoria to collect them,” the girl said with a flippant wave of her hand, continuing toward me. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you in town before. And you don’t go to school here.”

  “That’s true,” I said. “But surely, you can’t know everyone.”

  “No; but I’d remember seeing you before,” she said flipping her long blonde hair off her shoulder. The light blue and purple streaks in her hair glistened in the sunlight. The lip gloss she wore shone just as brightly.

  “I should be going. I have groceries to bring home.”

  “Will you really not give me the pleasure of your name?” The pouting lips were back. It was obvious she wasn’t used to being blown off, but I was in no mood for her flirtation.

  “Kale,” I said flatly.

  “Like the vegetable?” she asked with a snicker.

  “What can I say; my parents like vegetables.”

  “I’m not poking fun. It’s just interesting, that’s all.” She extended her hand. “I’m Johanna Ramsey.”

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. I knew the Ramseys were the ruling family of the 24th Ward. It seemed her entitlement was justified. My mother had even been employed by them for a short time—before we escaped the confines of Westeria completely.

  “It’s a pleasure, m’lady,” I said, shaking her hand.

  “So if you’re not from here, where are you from?”

  I laughed, leaned in close, and simply said, “The Outlands.”

  Johanna laughed too and playfully pushed me away. “No, seriously,” she said, flipping her hair off the opposite shoulder to make her neckline and bust all the more prominent.

  I shrugged. “Fine; don’t believe me. I guess I’ll disappear as mysteriously as I arrived.”

  “Johanna!”

  We both turned our attention to the shout from across the street. On the far sidewalk stood a younger and absolutely boisterous version of Johanna and…

  I couldn’t believe my eyes. What I was seeing couldn’t be real. Beside this young girl calling Johanna’s n
ame stood Celeste. She looked as beautiful as the first time I’d lain eyes on her. But there was no recognition in her gaze.

  “I was there when you died…” I said under my breath.

  “What?” Johanna asked.

  I shook my head, hoping the vision would pass—but the apparition remained. “Nothing.”

  “My little sister is so embarrassing,” Johanna huffed. “Can we go somewhere?”

  I glanced at an antsy Johanna, then back at the angel across the street. “Umm… sure. She seems sweet. I’d like to meet her.”

  “What? Who?”

  “Your little sister. What’s her name?”

  “Mina. She’s a little brat.”

  “I’m sure you don’t mean that. You were probably just like her when you were her age.”

  “That’s simply insulting.”

  I laughed. “Are you going to introduce me or not? Has anyone ever told you you’re cute when you’re flustered?”

  Johanna gave a sly smile. “Gorgeous maybe.”

  “Let’s not get carried away,” I said, returning her mischievous grin.

  “Fine…” she sighed and started across the street. “Have it your way. Mina, wait up.”

  I followed, my heart pounding, hoping the girl I saw as Celeste from afar was nothing more than an optical illusion. But as I drew closer, it became increasingly apparent that was not the case. By the time I was standing directly before her, there was no mistake. This was no ordinary girl. She was just the type of unnatural being my community was determined to eradicate, though my love for Celeste was too entangled with my conditioning to not see this girl as human.

  Was Celeste one of them too? Or was she the original?

  I was overwhelmed by seeing that face again—even though I logically knew it wasn’t hers—I could only see her.

  “This is my little sister, Mina,” Johanna said. “Mina, he really wanted to meet you.”

  “You’re the spitting image of your sister,” I said to Mina, momentarily ripping my gaze away from the ghost of Celeste—the clone of Celeste. Mina had pink and red streaks in her hair, an obvious imitation of her older sister’s hair style. “I bet you’re already having to fight the schoolboys off with a stick.”