Within the Walls [NEW VERSION]

Chapter 15

"This is all a delicate balance. You don't realise how little control I have," he says lowly. "The king needs to be convinced of your loyalty."

"So, it's okay then?" I say, throwing my hands up, my voice dripping in disgust.

"No. Obviously, it is not okay."

I scoff, curling my lips back in a sneer. "You promised me, Prince, that you weren't my enemy. That you cared for the Convex. How on earth can we do that to people?"

"Ask the king, Elle," he says. "He is the cruel one. He is the one driving this."

I shake my head, grinding my teeth. "But what of the Tranquillity? They are responsible for following the king, for being so full of hate and no self-direction." My tone takes on an intensity that scares the recesses of my consciousness. "I do not believe you are much better than him."

He stumbles back and his eyes grow icy, and distant. As if reeling from a slap in the face. He blows air through his nose and angles his head, studying me. "I am not my father, Elle," he says, voice strained yet calm. I know I've hit him in the spot that hurts the most.

"Are you?" I counter, shaking my head.

He grinds his teeth. "We have a royal tour of the Concave Sector today. Can we just act civil until it's over?"

"I'll bat my eyes and swoon like the rest of the ladies seem to do around you," I say.

"Gods, you're odious."

My lip quirks. "Only the bane of your existence."

I wring my sheets out and hang them on the racks. Then I march out of the room, rolling my eyes as he follows me.

"Can you meet me in the foyer in an hour?" he says, catching up.

"Only if you leave me alone."

He clicks his tongue as he slips away. "Don't be late."

When I arrive back in my room, Larissa is already there. She paces the room, brows pinched, two lines forming in her porcelain skin. "Gods, Elle. I heard what King Talin made you do." Her voice quivers and my heart cracks. "I cannot fathom having to do that."

Words die on my tongue. She nods in understanding as she ushers me to her chair and helps prepare me for the royal tour of the Concave Sector.

My burgundy, corset dress pushes my chest up and straightens my back. Larissa arranges my curls in a half-up, half-down situation. I hitch up the skirt as I stride through the hallways alone, trying to remember my way to the foyer.

He stands by the enormous arched main entrance. Sunlight streams in through the open doors, brightening his eyes as if the sun kisses him. His lip tugs into a smile, eyes softening as I approach and loop my arm around his. I draw in his scent. Citrus and the forest. My heart would flutter if it weren't for the anger still yanking at my heart. The blood of the exiled men still lingers on my skin, even if I tried to scrub it off.

"You look stunning if it isn't obvious," he says as he leads me down the stairs to the outside courtyard.

"You don't look too bad yourself."

It's true, unfortunately. His black linen collar cuts down his chest, revealing the muscle beneath. The sleeves tumble midway down his forearms, and a couple of gold rings adorn his fingers.

Grand pillars and blaring trumpets surround us, making my heart thump. The horses snort and swing their heads and the sun glares into my eyes. But the air is still bitter and frigid. I shiver as the wind plays with my hair. We climb into the carriage as the trumpets end their song with a flourish.

As soon as we enter the Concave streets, fear leaps into my mouth. Hundreds of thousands of Concaves crowd the sides of the streets. Waving and cheering and calling our names. Ruben winds down the windows with the levers on the door and sticks his hand out, waving right back.

"Come on, Elle," he says. "They'll love it."

I school my face into a pleasant smile and wave. Bright and pastel colours merge and mingle with one another as people shout my name and chase our carriage along the cobbled street. We reach a stopping point. Or at least that's what I assume.

"Why have we stopped?" Ruben leans forward, pinching his brows.

The horses erupt into panic whinnying, rearing back on their hind legs, and jolting the carriage. Screams and shots fling around us.

"It's the Convex!" someone yells and my blood pools.

I throw myself out of the carriage on instinct but curse myself when I realise, my knives are not on my body. They are stowed uselessly in the palace.

"Elle!" Ruben barks, scrambling out after me.

Utter chaos envelopes our carriage as the crowd of Concave flees in all directions. Many grab their children, tossing them on their shoulders as they run for their lives. But bodies already sprawl on the ground. Concave bodies.

That's when I spot them. Three Convex men, identifiable by their scruffy beards, dressed in stolen Concave clothing. They each grip knives dripping with fresh blood.

"There he is!" one man bellows.

He throws his knife at us. I yelp, jerking aside as the knife slices through the air, cutting between me and Ruben's head, and slamming into the carriage door.