Will trails me to my room after Meg leaves. I lead him up to the third floor, pushing open my bedroom door.
Meg tried to persuade me to remain in my old quarters on the fourth floor but I refused, feeling uncomfortable accepting a room permanently in the Palace. We compromised on a more modest bedroom formerly used by one of the live-in servants. The small space doesn't hold anything more than a bed, chair and desk but affords me access to one of the Palace's wrap-around glass balconies.
I walk over to pull shut the balcony door I had left open, pausing for a moment to peer out over the City. The desert rises and falls against the horizon, dimples of dunes dotting the vast landscape as far as my eye can see. Tonight, the familiar view strikes me as more curious than it normally would. In many ways my world ended at the City's gates. Until tonight I hadn't considered what lies outside of them too carefully.
When I draw back inside I see that Will has uncovered my small stash of medical supplies and has left his jacket discarded on a chair. I can hear water running out in the hallway and I follow the sound to the shared washroom, joining him at the basin and splashing my face.
He rubs his scruffy head with a towel, handing it over to me when I finish washing. He helps me remove my torn and soiled tunic, tossing it over the rim of the basin. We don't say anything as I rinse the blood from my arm wound, both of us examining the shallow cut with a measured curiosity.
I glance up at him as he turns my arm over gently in his large hands. His jaw is clenched and shadows have begun to form under his grey eyes. There is a wariness there that I haven't seen before and I feel a tug at my heart. My hand reaches up to brush his chin as though I could smooth away the tension he is holding within.
His shoulders droop slightly and he wordlessly slips his hands around my waist and draws me to him. We hold each other tightly, our hearts thudding against one another. My eyes drift closed as I breathe in his scent, fighting the emotion clawing its way up my throat.
Wordlessly I follow him back to my room, sinking down onto the bed while he draws the chair up so that he is sitting in front of me, pushing up his sleeves and reaching for the bandages.
"You're angry with me." I state as I study the twin scars marring his forearms.
He doesn't say anything for a moment, indicating that I should hold my arm out while he cuts a length of linen from the roll.
"Yes, I am." He replies calmly.
I nod, using my free hand to pull my hair free of it's braid, shaking out the mass with my fingers. "I'm angry with you as well."
"I know you are." He finishes wrapping my arm and secures the bandage tightly. "Does that hurt?"
"No." I lie.
"Good." His hands bury themselves in the hair caught behind my neck and support me as I fall backwards onto the bed. I tilt my lips up to meet his, allowing myself to be encompassed entirely by him.
My throat constricts as we kiss and I hold him tighter against me, arching my back up towards him. My hands cover the taut skin on his back and for a moment I picture the raised welts that mark the skin there.
My own scars tickle beneath his fingers as he lifts me up so that I am straddling him. I nuzzle into the crook of his neck and savour the feeling of him with me, alive and whole. Our walls outside this room may fall but the walls within hold forever strong.
* * * * *
I am jostled back to wakefulness when Will stirs beside me. I groan and grasp his waist as he tries to sit up. Cracking an eye open I wince at the brightness of the sun filtering in through the glass wall.
Will leans over and kisses me softly. "It's late." His voice is still scratchy with sleep.
"So it seems." I release him and we slide out of bed, pulling on our clothes. Will is checking my bandage just as a knock sounds at my door.
"Come in!" I call.
A familiar blonde, curly-haired head pokes through the doorway.
"Sera, how are you?" I leave Will to pull on his jacket and move to greet my former ladies maid, accepting the cup of hot coffee she hands over to me.
"I'm fine." She smiles but the gesture doesn't meet her eyes. "Queen Megra sent me to tell you that she will be waiting for you in her study. I can serve you breakfast there."
"Thank you, we'll head right over." I pause, studying her. Her pointed chin is set determinedly, her posture drawn up straighter than it ever was in her days of servitude. "Are people scared, Sera?"
Her chin thrusts up slightly higher. "They're concerned, that's all. We aren't scared, we are all ready to stand behind you."
The corner of my mouth quirks upwards as Will joins us at the door. Sera turns towards the kitchen as Will and I dip into the servant's stairwell and spiral down to the second floor.
The doors to Meg's study stand open and the two guards standing outside nod a greeting when we pass through.
Meg sits behind the wide wooden desk, her charcoal head bent over a pile of parchments scattering the surface. She looks up when we enter, smiling tightly as I sink down into the overstuffed chair opposite her desk and Will moves to the window, looking down towards the demolished wall.
"How is your arm?" She asks.
"Barely grazed." I reply.
"Naturally." She puts aside the piece of parchment she was reading and sits back. Sera enters the room to deposit a tray laden with coffee and a few dense pieces of bread before disappearing soundlessly back into the hall. The heavy doors shut firmly behind her, leaving the three of us alone.
"We need to end this." Meg speaks plainly and waits for our responses.
"We've only just pulled all of our forces from the Wastelands, now you intend to put them back in?" I help myself to a piece of bread, tearing off chunks in my hands.
"We have underestimated their tactics." Will turns away from the window and runs a hand over his scalp. "Removing soldiers from the Wastelands has been interpreted as weakness and the Wasters are demonstrating to us how willing they are to continue this fight."
Our war with the ungoverned Wastelanders began over the few precious resources stationed throughout the desert. Most of the City's food and water is drawn from the oasis' outside our walls; we depend heavily on what we can gather and transport. Years ago boundaries were established as a solution to our frequent bouts with the Wastelanders and for a short period we had peace. Time passed and the lines became muddied, our tentative agreements broke and during the reign of Meg's father the battles sprang up once again.
For close to two hundred years our men have been expected to join the fight in the desert, although the reasons why been lost to most of our citizens. When Meg became queen she ordered our troops back to the City, hoping that the Wasters are as unwilling as we are to lose more people.
Unfortunately, it appears that Will is right. The Wasters are determined to continue the battles and with the destruction of our wall have threatened a full-fledged war.
"We haven't been clear enough about our position." Meg looks from me over to Will. "It was foolish of me to think that we could withdraw without communicating to our enemy the reasons why."
"Are we having them over for tea, then?" I ask.
"After what happened to our wall, any approach we make towards them will be seen as hostile." Will crosses from the window over to the desk, sinking down into the chair next to me.
"We have to figure out a way to speak to them. I will not send our people back out to fight an endless war." Meg's voice rises and she visibly draws a breath. "The Wastelanders are human, after all. I have to believe that they are willing to listen to reason."
"We can't be certain of that." Will muses aloud. "A negotiation mission could likely turn into a suicide mission."
"Could we maybe strike a bargain?" I ask, thinking back to how we often settled our street skirmishes. "If we were to approach the Wasters with something of value to them, they may give us some leeway into their territory."
Will looks at me, his brow furrowed in thought. "We do in fact, have something they may want."
"I don't think that us approaching them with their own giant weapon will make us appear less threatening." I think of the boulder-hurling dinosaur sitting outside our wall and imagine a troop of City soldiers dragging it back across the desert.
"We took one of their injured last night." Meg catches on to Will's train of thought quickly. "We could offer an exchange: their man for a peaceful negotiation."
"We have a Wastelander prisoner?" I look between them, bewildered. "Where was I when this happened?"
"Likely buried in rubble or otherwise occupied." Will answers distractedly. He rubs his chin, considering. "Do you really think that the Wasters will be willing to talk?"
Meg is silent for several moments, considering. "I have faith that they will." She says eventually. "Ultimately, the Wastelanders want the same thing we do: survival. The desert offers more than enough room for the both of us and if there was peace between the City and the Wastelands once, there can be peace again." She sounds so confident that I am inclined to believe her.
Will is nodding slowly. "If we are going to do this, then we will need to organize a small group. Who will go?"
"I will." Meg and I speak at the same time and glare at each other.
"You are needed here." I tell her, simply.
"I need to be the one to speak to them." She insists. "I cannot show any more signs of weakness."
"Kay's right." Will cuts in. "It's too dangerous for you out there. Once we are in the desert I won't be able to guarantee your safety."
"I'm not some delicate flower." Meg crosses her arms.
"We aren't saying that you are, Meg," I try to explain as gently as I can. "But if anything were to happen to you, the City would be leaderless. We are still recovering from the abolishment of the last monarchy. Without you, the City would be doomed."
Her dark brows are lowered and her eyes dart back and forth between Will and I. "I thought that being Queen would afford me more freedom."
"Until this dispute with the Wasters is settled, there will be no freedom for any of us." Will remarks sagely. "We need to be careful if we intend to go out there."
"Let me be your messenger, Meg." I implore.
Her downturned mouth softens slightly. "Kay..."
"It will be just like old times." I allow a trace of teasing to seep into my tone in an attempt to alleviate the heavy cloud of seriousness.
Meg sighs, running her long fingers over her brow as though she could alleviate a pain there. "As I recall, that tactic backfired on us when we last attempted it."
When Meg was a princess she entrusted me with a letter to present to the Commoners wherein she declared her allegiance to our cause of abolishing the separate sectors. I promptly lost the letter and it was recovered by my friend Lara, who used it to turn us over to the Palace guards. Meg managed to escape the Palace before they came for her but I was arrested and nearly executed.
I actively fight to push away the emotion that constricts my chest at the memory. Lara was one of my oldest friends and I have never fully recovered from the impact of her betrayal. My body still bares the scars of my time in prison, permanent reminders of the inquisition I underwent while the King searched for Meg.
"It will be different this time." I tell her. "I won't be doing anything incriminating."
"It isn't arrest that I'm concerned about, Kay." Meg leans back in her chair, considering. Her brown eyes have darkened since I first met her, the weight of ruling the City heavy behind them. She looks to Will, "What do you think?"
"I think Kay should go."
I look over at him, my eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really?"
"She can handle herself out there." Will speaks to Meg but looks at me. "So long as she sticks with the soldiers and follows my orders."
I bite my lip, holding back a retort as I wait for Meg's response.
She nods gravely. "I suppose it's settled then. We will send you out with the Wastelander prisoner and invite their leaders back to the City for a discussion to negotiate peace."
"It couldn't be more simple." I look back and forth between them. "When do we ship out?"
"We should check in on our guest first." Meg pushes her chair back from the desk and makes to stand.
Will and I trail her out of the room and down towards the infirmary on the first floor. When we reach the door I have to consciously unfurl my fists and try to relax. I remind myself that the Waster is only one person and likely as confused in being caught up in this war as the rest of us are.
In my minds-eye I see our wall crumbling and my injured arm tingles from where it was struck by the rubble.
"Be nice." Meg warns us once before pushing open the door and stepping inside.