The Toxicant Throne (Book 2, The Culled Crown Series)

Chapter 5

Not today.

I was freezing and a bit disoriented, but I didn't turn back towards the healers' tent. I would walk until this ache in my chest stopped. Until I could exist within myself without feeling like I was a stranger.

I'd almost made it to the last fire when I saw him—Ambrose. He was heading towards the same tent I'd gone to yesterday for the meeting with M.O. and the other rebel leaders. For a second, I couldn't decide what to do.

If I let him know that I was there, he might make me go back to the healers' tent and, for the time being, I had a semblance of freedom. Callahan didn't know I hadn't obeyed his order and, unless he went to check up on me, which seemed highly unlikely, he wouldn't find out. So, there was no one to tell me what to do. And while I wanted to see my brother, I wasn't sure if Ambrose was on my side anymore.

I didn't know what my side even was.

All my life I had trusted my oldest brother. He had always taken care of me and protected me. He was my friend. But at that moment, I didn't know if I could trust him. Ambrose had known that I wouldn't be easily accepted here.

He had known all along that the Culled hadn't wanted me kept alive. And that was the real problem, after all—the issue that no one wanted to actually address. It wasn't my presence that was the biggest issue; it was the fact that I was still alive when their mission had been to kill me and everyone like me.

But I had lived and now, as M.O. had put it, they needed to "clean up" that mess.

I ducked behind a nearby shelter and watched as Ambrose paused along the path and waved to an approaching young woman. She smiled and hurried her step, her hand outstretched for him. He took it and said something to her, something I couldn't make out over the laughing from the soldiers gathered around the nearby fire. He tucked her under his arm and ushered her the rest of the way to the tent.

Once I was certain they were inside, I moved from my hiding place and hurried after them. It was dark and no one spared me a second glance as I darted around the edge of the tent. The winds, which were beginning to pick up, seemed to channel stronger through the small alleyway between structures. Even so, I could just make out the raised conversation happening within the tent.

"—That's if you honestly believe that they would be willing to step aside," a deep male voice was saying. "And we know that they aren't."

"Why would they?" a woman said. "The crown had more to offer."

"The crown won't exist forever."

"That's if we are successful."

"We will be."

There was a flurry of loud conversation, people talking over one another and arguing, until someone yelled, "That is enough!" There was a loud bang, like a hand hitting a table, and a man I recognized as Graves said, "We are not here to argue over whether or not they may stay. That has already been decided. We are here to listen to complaints and decide on how best to move forward. You are justified in your opinions, but I will not have you screaming over one another."

"Sir, if I may speak?"

My mouth went dry at the sound of Cohen's voice. The movement in the tent seemed to still, as if they'd all forgotten he was there. After a long pause, Graves said, "Yes, of course."

Cohen cleared his throat loudly. "I realize that many of you are unhappy with my being here. I don't blame you. If roles were reversed, I wouldn't trust you either. With that being said, I also think it's important for you to understand that I did not choose this. Being here, in this camp, was not a part of my plan. But I'm here now. My sister is here now. My parents, the king and queen, are dead. And whether you like it or not, I played a part in their murder. So, if you respect me for nothing else, at least take that into consideration when deciding what my fate should be."