No matter how many times she thought it through, she came back to the same answer.
It didn’t help that she didn’t feel the immediate revulsion that she was so accustomed to feeling. He’d done all that he could to provide for her while she was here. He’d found her a safe place to stay with someone powerful enough to keep her protected from Everett, and he’d promised to try to get the ruling against Zak revoked.
She didn’t hate him nearly so much anymore. He’d said he was changing, and he seemed to be telling the truth, as his actions showed.
It was as if two different air pressure systems were at war in her body. One fought, raged against everything, wanting nothing more than to escape, to be free, to be in the sky as captain of the Sapphire, Zak at her side. The other blew like hurricane winds, shredding at those dreams, cold, frigid reminders of responsibility, lives at stake and resting on her decision.
How could she even consider marrying Weston?
How could she not?
She had Zak. She wanted Zak. As desperately as a fish wants and needs water, she wanted Zak by her side. His calm strength. His easy smile. His straightforward observations.
“You know,” Francene’s voice interrupted Jade’s internal debate. The older woman tapped a manicured nail against her chin thoughtfully. “If it would make the decision any easier . . .” She glanced at Jade. “You could always marry the prince, and keep your bodyguard as a paramour.”
Jade’s jaw dropped, and her mouth worked soundlessly.
“Oh, dear, don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Francene’s eyes glittered in amusement, and she waved a bangled arm toward the door where Jade knew Zak was standing just beyond. “Your hunk of a shadow. The one that you were embracing in the gardens not so long ago?” A smirk spread on Francene’s lips. “Subtlety is not a strong suit for either of you in this regard. You could always take the crown, as is needed, and still have what you want.” Francene shrugged as she adjusted her bracelets. “You’ll just have to share yourself with both.”
“I—” Jade found her voice. “No. Absolutely not.” She shook her head hard enough that the rug below her feet momentarily blurred into two. “If I marry, when I marry, I’m devoted to one man.” Her heart pricked. “And even if I were willing to give myself to both of them”—the awkward words stuck in her throat, and she stared at the distant door—“I wouldn’t ask Zak to share me. He deserves to love someone fully, knowing without a doubt that she loves him wholly.”
Francene shrugged. “As you will. But it is an option you can always keep in mind.”
Jade twitched and shook her head again. An option she’d never consider. She had more than just herself to think of now. More than the crew she wanted. More than just her and Zak. She had responsibilities to their people in Doldra.
But even as Francene’s suggestion repulsed her, a tiny part of Jade’s heart considered the idea. She could serve her people and still have her heart’s desire. Would that be so bad? It wouldn’t be fair to him. Or her. Or anyone. And when the day came that she’d have children? Jade shuddered. It was a horrible idea. And if she was to marry Weston, she would have to put her full energy into making their relationship work. She wouldn’t have the sort of union that his parents had.
Or, she could always choose to not marry him. Run away, as she’d originally wanted—as Zak had recently suggested.
But could she really put her own happiness over their safety? Would she be able to live with herself if she decided selfishly? Would Zak?
And they still had to rescue Andre somehow. And for that, she definitely needed to be at the Leaders’ Summit. She could try to plead Andre’s case before all the leaders there, maybe get them to vote to let him out, even if Everett disagreed. But for that, she’d have to be princess enough for them to respect her. And, if that failed, then the plan growing between Weston, Zak, and Francene to break Andre out would have to somehow work. Jade sighed and stood, stretching slightly. “Let’s try again.”
Francene’s delicate eyebrows rose, and a hint of smile tugged at her lips. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Chapter Forty
Weston
Weston entered the library, intent on the list in his hands. He had to find what he could about the intricacies of treaties with Doldra, and fast. His knowledge was broad—and much deeper than Jade’s, but not nearly deep enough. He needed to start drafting an alliance document between Aerugo and Doldra that he and Jade could present to his father as an alternative to getting married. Granted, he still had to mention this idea to her, but he didn’t want to get her hopes up, nor add something else to her plate of things to do right now. He could handle the political arena much better than she could.
And then there was the idea of breaking Andre out of the Hollows. They still needed to develop a team they trusted enough to go in for Andre, and then train that team with the steam-rifles so they’d actually be picked to go. Not to mention finishing all the steam-rifles. And hopefully with enough time to rescue Andre.
There were far too many unknowns and variables in that plan right now. Focusing on the treaty idea would be the best bet.
Weston ran a finger down his paper and nodded to himself. He’d start at the back of the library and work his way to the front. He glanced up and stopped dead in his tracks.
His father turned from the bookshelf he’d been examining and smiled. “I’d hoped to talk to you today.” He gestured to a glossy black table with a map spread open, books piled on each corner to hold it in place. “Come, sit.”
Cold fingers slithered down Weston’s spine as he joined his father at the table. Every time he could remember his father wanting to “talk,” it ended badly for Weston. Would this be about his “going soft” and whatever solution his father had decided upon to toughen him up? Weston touched his bruised cheek.
Lord Everett leaned his elbows on the table, the gas lights above highlighting his pale skin. He ignored Weston’s silent motion. “What is she planning?”
“Who?” Weston blinked and gripped the square corners of the chair. Whatever he’d expected from his father, that wasn’t it.
“Adeline. Jade. The girl whom you wanted last year yet let escape. The one you’re now engaged to. What is she planning?” Everett leaned back and smoothed a wrinkle in his black jacket. “I know the bloodlines she has. She’s scheming something.”
Weston licked his lip. “She’s plotting nothing.”
Lord Everett lifted both his black brows, his face impassive.
“I mean, she’s accepted that she needs to be queen,” Weston explained. “And she’s hoping she can do something that will allow her to free her uncle Andre.”
“The man that she calls ‘uncle’ is of no blood relation to her.” Everett sniffed.
“That doesn’t make her perspective of him change,” Weston replied quietly. “And I want Andre back, too.”
Everett’s gaze pierced Weston. “That man was branded a traitor for a reason. It would do you well to forget him.” He pushed away from the table and paced, keeping his back turned to Weston as he looked up to the second level of the library. “If that is truly all she is doing, then very well. It’s a waste of time on her end, but if it keeps her occupied while she continues this ridiculous farce of stalling the wedding, I’ll allow it.”
Weston angled his head to look at the map. His heart sank at the sight of the Arid Plains. “You’re still going to go through with the building, aren’t you?”
Everett glanced over. “Why wouldn’t I?” He pivoted on his heel and strode back. “I need to finish drafting this before the summit.”
Weston moved to half sit on the table, twisting his torso to look at the map and the overlays of diagrams of water flow. “Few of our people want to move out there, and it costs far too much to be worth it.” He tapped on one of the schematics. “There’s little benefit for us considering how much we’d put into acquiring the land.”
“That’s because you
’re thinking of it as just land.” Everett stepped closer. “Honestly, I think it’s a good thing Andre is gone at this point, if this is all you remember of your lessons. What use is he if you can’t even remember what’s in that region?”
Weston’s eyes narrowed at his father’s insult, and he racked his brain, trying to think of what could possibly be out there that would interest his father. He tapped the western flank of the Arid Desert with his index finger as he nodded to himself. Minerals. Saline, specifically.
“Saline is out there in amounts unrivaled by anywhere else.” Everett planted a finger over the name on the map. “If the barrier were to fall, and war came to our borders, and we had this, we would be the most prepared nation. If we’re the most powerful, southern Terrene will flock to us for protection.” Everett’s slow smile warned Weston of what he already suspected: his father had this all planned out, and Weston would likely not like it. Everett’s fingers curled over the map, as if he could grasp the land from the page. “And we’ll help them. For a price.”
An uncomfortable itch formed on the back of Weston’s neck. “What’s the price?”
“Their sovereignty will be a small price to pay for their lives.” Everett pulled a book off the stack and opened it up, subtly dismissing Weston. “And what the people want is irrelevant.”
***
Weston pulled his knees up to his chest, nestled on the floor in the corner between his black divan and the blue-and-gray-patterned wall. To think, he’d used to look up to his father, wanting Everett’s respect and admiration more than anything. And he’d looked down on Andre, uncaring of what his tutor and guard thought of his actions.
How things had reversed.
Weston had done everything by his father’s book: he’d used his power in the manner his father wanted him to, abused others in the same way his father did, and practiced being a ruthless leader like his father. But it wasn’t enough. There was always another bar to attain. Another level to climb.
And it wasn’t worth it anymore.
Not when such power meant innocent deaths. Not when it meant that everyone obeyed out of fear instead of love.
His father’s fondness for corporal punishment was widely known by just about everyone. And ever since Weston had used that whip the first time, he’d wanted nothing more to do with it.
He rubbed his hands against the gray area rug under him, remembering Zak’s sticky blood on them, the coppery smell that turned his stomach. Jade’s tears through the entire punishment, her eyes burning with fury and devastation.
Andre had proved his point that Everett was wrong during that fateful summer: One cannot simply take because they see something they want. One cannot simply punish because someone else was in the right. There is a time and a place for violence. Whipping a man who defended a woman is not that time or place. Whereas whipping a man who raped a woman, is.
Weston hunched over, pained by the memories.
I was so close to that line.
He’d been prepared to take what he wanted, to lay claim to her despite whatever she said or did. Weston squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his head back, deliberately knocking it against the wall. He had to do what was right this time.
Andre had shown him what it was like to be the better man. The honorable man. He wanted to redeem himself of his past. And he wanted to make Andre proud.
The sound of knocking on his door had him scrambling to his feet and hustling away from his corner. It wouldn’t do for the palace to have rumors of their prince hiding in a corner like he’d done as a child. He brushed off his clothes and called out, “Enter.”
The door opened and his mother walked in, the gems in her ears matching her regal purple gown. She nodded to Niles in the hallway, and he closed the door behind her, leaving her alone with Weston, who sat on one of the four chairs lining the foot of his bed.
Finally. Someone he could trust. Someone who would have insight and wisdom that he wanted to hear.
“Can you help her?” he asked without preamble, daring to hope. “Guide her or encourage her with all,” he gestured, struggling to find a word to encompass all that was going on, “this.”
A soft smile lifted the corner of her lips, and she settled in one of the chairs across from him. “I don’t know. She was raised with freedom, the sky being the limit.” Violet tugged on a black braid hanging by her ear. “I didn’t want the leadership that was thrust upon me when Richard died, but at least I already knew that I was going to someday be in a position to lead. Jade didn’t have even that much. This is more overwhelming for her than it was for me.” Violet sighed. “But she seems to be doing well, all things considered. She’s still here, isn’t she?”
“She’s at Francene’s,” Weston offered, unsure of how much his mother knew, having just returned from her trip to Doldra. “Francene is trying to give her ‘princess lessons’ and bring her up to speed on what she’ll need to know before the leaders’ summit.”
“That’s good.” His mother nodded, her brown eyes thoughtful. She traced the embroidery on her skirt with an idle finger. “But what is her motivation for staying? She shouldn’t become queen just because of what happened to the Monomi boy. That will prove to the other leaders that she’s weak and can be bribed or coerced. It will endanger all those that she calls family or friends.”
“Like Father is doing to her right now. He’s holding her friends and family over her head as a means to get her to marry me.”
Violet’s lips flattened. “Indeed. I will do what I can to convince him to hold off as much as possible.”
“Thank you.” Weston fidgeted before finally saying it. “But she still needs to be queen, doesn’t she? Her being alive technically makes you . . .” He trailed off, not sure how to say it to her face.
“Yes.” A sorrowful smile curled his mother’s lips. “That’s the problem. My usefulness to your father has diminished, and I am now irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.”
Weston frowned. “You aren’t useless, though.”
She tossed her head back in a laugh. “No, but nor am I the chess piece that allowed him so much power, having two kingdoms under his thumb. With Jade in the picture, I am merely his wife.”
Weston pressed his palms together, matching his fingertips before looking up at his mother. “Do you want Jade to take the throne?”
Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “That’s not an easy question to answer, son.” She sighed and stood, walking to his armoire and gazing at him in the reflection of the mirror. “For her sake, no. She’s untested and unprepared.” Violet’s brow lowered, and she touched a finger on a mechanical bird that Weston had been working on. “For my sake, I’d rather she not be queen. I’m trained, and I know how to lead the countries, though I don’t get much opportunity to do so.”
He stared at the floor for a long moment. “Why did you marry Father? Couldn’t you have ruled Doldra on your own, even without your first husband?”
“I needed the alliance,” she stated simply, her voice sad. “Doldra was so shaken from the royal slaughter, and the nobles so vocal about what they wanted, and the Reformers—the ones who took responsibility for the slaughter—were so out of control, that I needed military help.” Her eyes grew distant with memory, a hard set to them and her mouth. “I followed advice that was wise at the time, and did what I had to do as a royal: I set aside my own personal feelings and did what was needed for the good of my people.”
Weston twisted the ring on his index finger. “Andre used to talk about that, putting the people first.”
“Andre is a very wise and brave man.” Violet returned to Weston’s side and set her palm on his shoulder, smiling down at him. “Francene and I are working on an appeal case right now. I will be testifying on Andre’s behalf, hopefully within the week.”
“An appeal case? But those usually take at least a month.” Weston gaped. “How are you pulling that off?”
“I’m doing what I can through the official channels.
” His mother tilted her head to the side, looking away. “And she’s using her influence to expedite the process for those not bribed by money or political favors.”
A brief memory of Francene’s creamy skin flashed through Weston’s mind, and he flushed, studying the same wall his mother faced. “That would do it.”
“Weston.” Violet tugged on his hand and he stood, just a scant few inches taller than her. She gazed up at him with a warm smile. “I still have my ties to Perennia, and I still have influence here and in Doldra. We have a solid chance of getting Andre out, and if we play our tiles right, we’ll get through this with or without Jade.” She embraced him, and he stiffened for a moment, unused to such affectionate displays. She didn’t let go, and he melted, hugging her back. She pulled away, her eyes searching his, her tone firm. “You just work on being the man that Andre would want you to be. The man that I’m proud to see you becoming. Don’t give up hope.”
Chapter Forty-One
Jade
Jade struggled to focus on the prosthetic in front of her, instead of where Zak lounged in a nearby divan in the outdoor patio. Francene’s suggestion bounced around in Jade’s head like ball bearings on the engine room floor. There was no way, no way she could consider marrying Weston and keep Zak with her. But nor could she not have Zak with her. They hadn’t had any time to train together the last few months, nor did she have an engine room for him to linger in while she worked, but he was too valuable to her sanity, her life.
He knew her. Understood her. He wasn’t afraid of her tears. Her temper. Her sleep-deprived craziness. He’d seen her fancied up at her best. And he’d seen her at her bottom-of-the-oil-barrel worst. And through it all, he still stayed by her side. Promised to face the day with her.
How could she push him away?
She was too distracted to work. Briar’s second prototype leg thunked as she set it down. She’d have to work on it later, when she could bounce ideas off of Krista. Right now ...she needed to talk to Zak.
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