"His heart is soft, August," Kriss said. "He's not a plaything or puppet for you."
August raised his eyebrows at her, "And that's exactly what I'm saying, Kriss," he answered, languidly, "He's a decent man. Could be a decent king. But his heart is soft. Weak. He won't survive this cruel war and politics. Not unless there's someone besides him, guiding him, anchoring him."
Kriss glanced at him with narrowed eyes. "So you want to puppeteer me instead then," she replied, though she couldn't help but think of how he wasn't exactly wrong.
"Hey, don't keep saying puppeteer as though I'll blackmail you into killing somebody," August protested. "Besides, that was always the plan, wasn't it?"
"You came here because of the crown. I remember you protesting about the indignity of fighting for a man's affection with other women. How so insulting. The only reason you agreed, was that so you could steal the diaries of Gregory Illéa for us and become queen."
"I thought that would be unlikely!" Kriss argued. "I didn't come here for becoming a queen. You know that. That was overexaggeration from the start. I just agreed to find the diaries."
"Yes, for the diaries and also for making a connection with Maxon enough to put forth the cause of our rebellion." August corrected. "As an ambassador of sorts."
Kriss nodded, "And I've done that. My part in this is finished."
"No." August gave her a serious look. "Once you become tangled in politics, your part is never finished. I should know, I was born in this."
"Exactly, you were born in it," Kriss emphasized, "I wasn't. I don't have to remain here. America can become Maxon's queen and everything would be a fairytale. I'll just go back to my books and research for the North Rebellion. That is my job."
August's stare became piercing, "Oh, you want to be a coward, then?"
Kriss bristled, getting ready to retort.
"Because you'll be running away from every hope of a fair and safe Illéa that you've - we've- worked so hard for. That I and hundreds of others have invested our whole life into. Maxon and America might be some of the only ones wishing to end the caste system, but that's not where it ends. The Southern Rebellion want to attack. And so do other countries. Nobody's a real fan of Illéa, if you've noticed. The second they see an opening, they'll declare war."
"But war... you've heard of what it did to our country the first time. Illéa is the result we have gotten. Do you really want something worse to materialize? And do you think that Maxon and America will be able to prevent or survive it?"
Kriss flinched slightly.
August looked squarely into her eyes, "They're good people, Kriss, no doubt. But they're inexperienced and naive. They're not strong enough to withstand the shitstorm that's about to hit us. You are," he held her shoulders. "And you need to be here to protect this country. You need to be the queen."
Kriss backed away from his hold, "And what about you, August? You're the true heir of the line of Illéa. You've always eventually planned to overthrow the Schreave rule." She accused.
"I don't want to be king," August said.
Kriss rolled her eyes mockingly, "Oh, we're playing mimic now? You're fit to be a king far more than I'm fit to be a queen. You've lived your whole life in some leadership position. You're trained as a king would be. There's no reason for you not to be the king."
"Trained as a king, only in so much more gruesome ways, " August reminded while smiling drily, making Kriss think back to the scars she had seen on his body, "Even ignoring the fact that you excluded my personal wishes about it-" he flashed her a sarcastic grin to which she just raised an eyebrow, " it is not that easy."
At her cue for elaboration, he continued, "It is impossible to take over without causing disarray and panic among the public. Sure most of the upper castes are more or less arseholes and the lowers castes are already suffering as it is - but it would cause more disorder. The Illean and Schreavan rule till now has beaten down the people of this country until there was nothing but obedience for the crown in them. Obedience out of fear. And you can't stamp out fear that easily Kriss," he stressed staring straight at her. "Especially not one festered over generations."
"The people would riot. They wouldn't know how much of a favour we did them by overthrowing Clarkson. All they'd know is that we are enemies of the crown, and thus their enemies. We'll all die."
Kriss frowned, chills sliding up her back.
"Because the people of this country are so conditioned into this dystopia, they would be scared of the ones offering kindness. Even the Sevens and Eights would come at us with pitchforks. It would be too much instability. This country's barely hanging on a thread of sanity as it is with the cruelty of Illean monarchy, but if you take even that away? What do you think they'll do? They know nothing but the cruelty offered to them. An abused child knows nothing but the abuse he's familiar with. He rejects help. Illea's the same."
Kriss stood in her place, stunned at the description August gave and blinked. It was the truth.
"The only way to give Illea the help it needs," August said, "Is by making smaller changes among the system, letting them learn what they need. You have to give short, regular doses to an ill patient. If you pour the whole bottle down their throat, they'll die, Kriss, remember that."
"That's the reason the Northern Rebellion has never made a move till now," Kriss realized.
August nodded, "Yes. But we can now," he stared at her, "With you as the Queen."
Kriss inhaled deeply.
"Do what you need to do, Kriss," August told her. "If your love and dedication to this country is true, do what you need to do."
"Fine, I'll do it," Kriss agreed wearily. "What about the Southern Rebellion?"
August let out a short sigh and gazed ahead, "Alas, they remain a thorn in our side as ever."
Kriss looked at him in curiosity, "How did they come to be?"
"They came from us," August answered. "The Northern Rebellion. The north, the south, it was not a division when Spencer Illea began it. It was created because of internal conflicts. Some people were too impatient with the inaction of the leaders. They separated and formed what is now known as the Southern Rebellion. Of course, their many plans of attack have always been too shortsighted to actually land a hit. Most of our muscle went to that side a few decades ago. There were no weapons. That's why we had not eradicated them a long time ago."
August's tone was calm but a storm of emotions quietly raged in his eyes.
"Now, thanks to your cleverness, Kriss, we have those weapons. We have the means to fight them and end them. And we will, if our last attempt at peace is not enough. The southern rebels were bred in violence and they crave it. It's unfortunate about some of them, but the Southern Rebellion is a plague to Illea. It has to be stopped." August took in a breath then looked at Kriss.
"But Kriss, it is just one of the many problems that our country is ridden with. I can't fight them all at once. Neither can you. We have to crash those walls down, one by one. To destroy the legacy that my ancestor Gregory Illéa has left to us."
"To do that, there must be pillars in place that will still save Illea from breaking apart along with it. I am one, Kriss, but one is not strong enough. I need you too," August pleaded her.
"I need you to be the queen. I need you to rule this kingdom. I need your help to eradicate the evils here. I need your help to rebuild Illea."
"Please, Kriss, you do understand now, don't you? You can't refuse. If you do, Illea will either fall apart or continue repeating the vicious cycle created by our forefathers. I alone can only save it so many times. You have to help me save it."
"I understand, August. I'll be here." Kriss promised. What else was there to say? After knowing this, to refuse would be to abandon the people of her country. She had a duty to them and she'd do it.
At last, August relaxed. "Thank you."
"All this responsibility. How did we come to this, August?" Kriss shook her head.
August chuckled. "I was born into it, Kriss. But you, Kriss, you walked right into it."
And he was extremely glad that she did.
••••
"Why do you love Illea so much, August? You were raised out of Illea for the most part. You might have been raised as a potential ruler of the kingdom, but you didn't have to choose that when it came to it."
"True," August agreed, leaning back, "I don't know, really, Kriss. I guess I just love it too much. My parents were patriots. It bled into me, I guess. Now, all I see is how broken Illea is. I can't help but want to fix it."
Kriss looked at him, thinking about how lucky the people of this country were that a man like August Illea had been born. And that for some reason, he always chose it. If he didn't... she couldn't help but think of the leader of the Southern Rebellion. He was the furthest thing from August. She was really glad that she had stumbled upon Cassie and not one of the Southern rebels two years ago.
The Northern Rebellion had given her life a purpose. It had given her life like none she had known before. Sure, she had lived comfortably all her life. But the passion that rose to her heart till the brim for Illea now, the comfort was nothing compared to it.
Kriss Ambers might have had a normal life before in Illea, probably ending up as a teacher just like her parents. But because of the Northern Rebellion, she had experienced so much more than that. Her life had become truly extraordinary. She had saved so many. And she would save many more. She would be forever grateful to the Northern Rebellion for that.
Kriss needed to help Illea. The same thing that drove August, drove her too. And she would fight tooth and nail for her home.
Kriss took a breath and leaned August's shoulder. They remained there silently, feeling as meant to be there as they had ever had. They belonged there, side by side.