His Red Queen

Chapter Twenty-two

I pull my hand away from his and he frowns. "You're not going back, right?"

"I gotta go." Standing, I leave him sitting on the floor. He murmurs his objections and I wave a hand, looking over my shoulder. "Just give me a second." It comes out more curt than intended and I don't look back at him as I close the door behind me.

In the small kitchen, my brother and Farley are cooking something that doesn't smell much better than Mom's cooking back home in The Stilts. Shade is stirring a pot of something on the stove. Farley cuts some vegetables up with... Is that a throwing knife?

They don't see me as I trudge past them and into the main room. As I sit on the couch, I glance at them. They stand so close to one another and not because the kitchen is small; there's plenty of room for two people to not touch.

When they're done cooking—and indiscreetly flirting—everyone has dinner in silence.

Cal and I wind up doing the dishes. We work silently and I keep a distance between each other. If I don't, I know that I will just put us both in a situation to be disappointed. I can't lead him on. I'm married to his brother. And I know that I could never do that to Maven. To either of them.

I sleep on the old couch, tossing and turning all night, staring at the little beam of moonlight peeking in from a gap in the curtains.

When I finally fall asleep, the nightmares begin.

I am running through the Stilts at a slow, easy pace. Kilorn pants behind me, his gait off from too much time on the water. But he doesn't stop running; he follows me, quickening his pace to match mine.

I wipe the sweat from my brow but continue on. Soon enough we are out of our town, jogging along the Royal Road. Then, Whitefire is in front of me. I turn my head, expecting to see Kilorn but he is gone.

At the doors of the palace stands Maven, Evangeline at his side, decorated in her finest metal armor. Ptolemus is off to the side, Shade next to him. More people appear out of thin air. Mom, Dad, Gisa, Tramy, Bree. Even Elara  and Cal and Farley.

They all watch me with lifeless eyes. Enemies and friends and those in between. All staring at me.

I turn around and try to run away, to get away from everyone and leave the whole mess behind. My heart hammers in my chest, smacking against my rib cage hard enough to burst.

My feet fumble, slipping on the stone walkway, gravel scuffing the bottom of my boots. I trip and am about to get a mouth full of rocks and dust when someone grips the collar of my shirt and pulls me up straight.

I wake with a start, my eyes spring open before I get the chance to see who it is. My still heart races rapidly but it starts to slow down to a relatively normal beat. No sound but the pounding in my ears and the little bit of electricity wired in the safe house fills the darkness.

Two days later, I still silently refuse to talk to Cal again. I make myself scarce, helping Farley prepare an airjet behind the house for a mission that she has the clearance to tell me about but refuses to nonetheless. She's been stingy with information. I can't blame her, I guess. I am the queen.

Every day that goes by, I worry about Maven. Worry about the people around him, actually. We have no means of communication with Norta and we would be fools to be corresponding with anyone inside the palace. There's no more servants doubling as Scarlet Guard operatives there. Even as queen, no one was there looking out for me.

I thought Maven would betray me again but instead I betrayed him. Hurt him before he could hurt me.

Farley's scarred hand grasps for the screwdriver. Her awkward spot on the rafters of the jet seems more and more uncomfortable by the second. She leans down farther and I get on my tiptoes, holding it above my head. She takes it and finishes fixing whatever she was fixing up there.