I come to drowning in fuzzy feelings of urgency. I have to do something. Someone needs me. I'm the only one who can help.
The bombs. I have to warn them.
I manage to use my throbbing hands to pick up the phone near my bed. I call security down at the main castle gate. It rings and rings, and finally a man picks up.
"Station one, what's your status?" he asks.
"Eadlyn Schreave here. They have bombs. They are going to go off. I don't know when."
"Excuse me? Miss? This is not funny. Her Highness deserves your utmost respect."
And then he hangs up!
I try to stand, but gentle arms restrain me.
Kile murmurs, "Eady, relax. You need to heal. Your thoughts are jumbled."
"I'm not jumbo!" I protest, letting him lie me back down and tuck my covers carefully around my shoulders. I have a neck brace on, my ankles are in air casts, and my back is still on some kind of cooling gel pack.
"I have to go diffuse them," I say, already worn out.
"Eady, you need to stay here and let the medical team help. That is the way you can show the rebels that they can't break you. You persevere."
I relax into his arms. His breath is warm on my neck. I wish I could get the feeling of imminent danger out of my head because what I really want is to be that girl again. The girl with a boy. As simple as that. As amazing as that.
I lock my gaze onto his gray green eyes, growing even darker with his fierce rush of emotion. I slowly raise my palms and place them lightly on his chest. Even through the gauze covering my hands, I can feel the strong pounding of his heart and the rapid rise and fall of his breathing.
"Eady, I never knew you were so tough." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. I don't let myself think about the state of my hair. This is Kile. He cares about me, not my hair.
He lets out a self-conscious chuckle and then adds, "It sounds lame, but I'm so proud of you. I wish you never had to go through that. I should never have left the castle. I knew you didn't want me gone. Not really. If I'd been here--"
Oh no, I won't let him shoulder any of the blame. I can do that much for him after all the heartache I've caused.
I let my palms float up to his shoulders and then loop them loosely around his neck. My body wants to arch into him, to meld us together so tightly that nothing and no one could ever wrench us apart.
I say, "You had to go. I'm sorry for that. For all of it. You didn't deserve it. I basically kicked you out, gave you a job you didn't ask for on live TV, and then chose someone else."
He looks at the corner of the room and takes a deep breath.
I hold my own breath, worrying my lip with my front teeth. I'm reminding him of all my mistakes. Maybe I shouldn't have brought it up. Said all together like that, it had to be painful to hear. Why do I do this?
Kile takes my gauze wrapped hands and holds them tenderly in his own.
"That's behind us now. I didn't find you to lose you again." He gives me a hitched-up smile. "The idea of never seeing you again...I realized nothing mattered if you weren't in my world. I missed you every day. I constantly thought of what you'd think, or say, or how you'd scoff about so many different things."
"I do like to scoff," I say lightly, sorry for the pain he's been through.
"Then when I saw you in the factory and figured out everything that had happened while I was gone, how badly you must have been hurt," he pauses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I could barely function. Please, Eady, no more sending me away," he voice has a desperate edge.
"I promise never to send you away again," I recite.
"And I promise not to let you," he replies, rolling his shoulders as if he's just thrown off a heavy load. He holds a cup with a straw close to my mouth so I can take a sip. Then we just stare at each other, smiling goofily.
I let myself drift into a happy place, gazing at his clear, steady eyes and inhaling his subtle scent of pine and pencil lead. I missed him so. All the little things feel like gifts now. His haphazard way of swiping his hair off his forehead, the way he always looks me directly in the eyes and barely blinks when talking to me. Our history: the squabbles, the childhood games, the awkward tension, it makes today -the present- so much more meaningful. I want him with me always.
That thought brings a different face to my mind. One that I have purposefully been blocking out.
"I...I...haven't thought once of Ean. How is he? Does he still think...that he and I are..."
Kile rolls his eyes. "Eady, of all the things to worry over. I'll send him in tomorrow maybe. He's fine. Worried, but fine. He was one of the first ones to believe me that I saw you. You shouldn't bother with that right now. Here, hydrate." Kile gives me another sip.
Amazingly, my insecure emotions break through my pain to nag at me: he never said I love you back. I told him in the factory. He didn't say it back. Why not? Should I put it out there again?
"Kile," I begin.
His hopeful eyes find mine.
I chicken out. "I hear your houses are amazing."
He startles and then laughs.
"Of course they are. I want you to see one."
"I want to also. Soon. Maybe we should live in one."
His eyes widen. "Together?" his voice trembles.
"Always," I answer. "I'll make us those curtains."
"We'll need them," he whispers.
*** *** ***
It's time for my statement. I've dreaded it long enough.
"You can do this," Kile assures, holding my hand gently. I love that he always reaches for my hand, as if it's his aim to tether us together. Whenever we're alone, he is holding my hand. I wake up at night and his fingers are entwined with my own. I thought luxury was lounging on a velvet setee wearing a dazzling dress and a sparkling tiara. Turns out, it's holding the hand of the boy you love. Even if no one knows. Even if you're a mess. Having love is a luxury no one should go without.
Kile misinterprets my silence as hesitation and says, "Or, we can ask them for more time. It's your decision."
"What I say could help them find a way to get to the rebels. Right?"
"And it could put that deviant behind bars where he can pay for everything he ever said and did. Let the rebels see their leader caned. Executed. He deserves it. If only I'd..."
I put up my hand for him to stop. I've never seen this side of Kile before. He is borderline obsessed with catching Hale in order to make him suffer.
As if that will help me heal.
I do think it would help Kile. I wake up through the night screaming or sobbing. Kile is by my side before the nurses can get here. He reminds me that I am safe and holds me, but I can hear him cursing Hale under his breath. Neither of us are getting much sleep.
I don't tell Kile what my nightmares are about. That Burke succeeded. That Neena shot me. That I married Ean and it's too late for Kile and me. That someone in my family was taken and treated even worse than I was. The dreams are ever changing in my drug addled mind, and it sometimes takes Kile a while to remind me of what is real. Do Mom and Dad know he is staying overnight? I am not sure.
Heath knows Kile is my constant. He even brought him a pillow and a cot.
Putting Hale in chains might please Kile, but I don't think it would help me. I'm conflicted about him: his cruel treatment of me was dead wrong, his views about the state my country is in were very right, and his small acts of kindness—did they even count in the broader view of what he did to me?
The longer I am away from him, the more I can forget the little moments when his humanity shone through. Maybe in years I would be able to order his execution. But, tomorrow? I am not so sure. I don't even want that power anymore. It's too much for one person.
My official statement is with Leger, witnessed by Dad, Mom, and Lucy Leger. The first thing they do is ask Kile to step out. They think him being here will make me feel uncomfortable. I realize they are right.
Kile is gracious but I can tell that he wishes I would insist he stay. He assures me that he will wait outside the door.
Mom holds one of my hands and Lucy holds the other. Lucy is small, quiet, and very selfless. She has known me my entire life. I've seen how Leger relies on her shy strength and I've always admired that. They are one of the few couples I know who are as happy as my mom and dad. I'm glad it's Lucy helping with this.
I start by going over how Hale captured me. I recount how Neena and Burke both had darker intentions for me. It's hard to describe the protective and abusive way Hale treated me, especially how he could also have random moments of lighter teasing or even kindness.
Mom cries. Dad is stoic, sitting next to Leger to oversee the way he records this. Lucy is the one who asks me questions when I'm not clear or when I try to skip something. I imagine they knew she would be a softer prompter than Leger.
When I say how Hale used to put me in his bed, Mom has to step out. Dad grinds his teeth but says nothing. Leger records. Lucy nods. She asks if it is possible that he drugged me and I didn't know it. Sure, I say. Did I give up any political info? No, pretty sure not. The day drags on.
When I get to the details of the working conditions in the factories and the sad state of the people I saw in the market and in the fields, I keep my eyes on Dad. He has his perfect impassive king face on so I can't tell if I'm getting through to him. He really needs to see it with his own eyes.
"You have to go with me and inspect them, Dad. You would never be okay with the way they are operating and treating their staff. Your cabinet is failing you and you're too busy developing international allies to notice your own nation is miserable!"
"Eadlyn, you need to be more careful with your words."
"You need to be more careful with your cabinet! They are supposed to be on top of labor standards and a living wage and health care and...and...and..." I start coughing, which makes my ribs feel like they might splinter apart.
The nurse rushes in. I drink some, get an oxygen mask, and take more pain pills. Then I decide to resume. Might as well get this over with. Maybe recounting it will purge it from my head and the nightmares will stop.
I start back in describing the pervasive poverty in our land.
Finally Dad's mask cracks and he flicks a hand in the air. "Move on! This is not a time for you to air your opinions about our governing. Do I need to order you to stick to the crimes committed?"
"I need you to know! I have to make you see that our monarchy must end!"
He swipes his hand in a cut gesture and shakes his head.
"You are my daughter, Eadlyn. This is an official document of your testimony to be used by our law enforcement. Focus on the relevant facts that can bring your captors and this rebellion down."
"Promise you'll visit them with me," I parry. "Tomorrow?"
Dad exhales loudly and begins pacing the small room.
"That can't happen," Leger finally says. "I'm doing my best but I can't ensure your safety. Even if we got through the encampment outside the castle, the rebellion has cells in every town. It would be pure idiocy to venture out on field trips. Especially if the establishments are as dangerous as you describe, and filled with supporters of the scum—sorry, rebels."
Dad seems to be struggling to find a way to handle me and his temper. I really want to keep pushing, but I know from my childhood attempts that he does not budge. Especially when it comes to king business.
Dad sits back down and smooths his cuffs. He says, "Eadlyn, we will discuss that more later. You are not up to date on the current state of crisis Illea has fallen into, but I do not want to stress you further with that. Your job is to rest and only come back to work when you are 100%."
"I'm never going to be who I was!" I shout. My throat throbs with the effort. "That Eady is dead! Gone! She's a ghost!"
Kile and Mom barge in and flank my bed, insisting I take a break. It's weird to see them working as a team to help me. It reminds me of how Mom is with Marlee, always exchanging glances and secret smiles.
With Kile and Mom bolstering my strength, I push through and finish the statement.
When I'm finally done and Leger and Lucy go off to type it up, I finally remember to ask, "When can I see Ahren, anyway?"
"He wants to see you, too," Mom says.
"He has no choice but to stay out of Illea," Kile explains.
"The insurgents issued a threat," Mom says calmly. "No one is to come into the castle, and no one is to leave. They have set up kind of a camp to enforce this, surrounding the castle. They have enough weapons and people to make a serious situation. Until your father works this out, we've asked Ahren to stay put."
Panic rachets up my throat. "Hale won't listen!" I clamp down on Mom's hand. "And he doesn't compromise!" I shake my head at Kile. "Tell Ahren to stay away! I had no idea." So this is what Dad means by me being out of the loop. Of course we're not going to a factory full of monarchy haters. "The sooner we abdicate the better!" I thrash to get out of bed but Mom gives me a no nonsense look and I stay put.
"They have us in a corner!" I look from Kile to Mom. "Why are you both so calm?" I just see gentle love in their expressions. They are only thinking of me. They have left all their other stressors at the door. I am so, so lucky to have them.
"Mom," I choke back a sob.
Mom hugs me, hushing me like she did when I was little.
Kile darts out and returns ten minutes later with a tray of tea. I'm done with the tears by then and the hot drink feels great on my throat.
"Thank you," I say. "This is just what I needed."
"My mom taught me how to make it," he says proudly.
"You made this?" I don't have to feign shock.
"I did."
"A bookworm who can make tea," I wink at him, appreciating his attempt to lighten my spirits. Not much could.
"And don't forget, I can cook with the right partner."
The right partner. I like the way he said that. I'm about to answer him when the doctors come in for their daily listing of what's wrong with me and what it will take to fix me. I zone out, knowing my limits. Mom takes notes and Kile nods. The medical jargon seems neverending but it drags me into a much needed nap.
Later that evening, I ask Mom an important question.
"When can I sleep in my own room? In my own bed?" I ask, my eyes on Kile.
His cheeks turn a beautiful shade of rose.
Mom stifles a giggle and gives me a sly look. "In good time, Eady. No hurry."
I frown and it pulls down all the bandages covering my face.
"How about strawberry tarts for a bedtime snack?" Mom suggests.
Kile raises one eyebrow.
"I guess," I say with mock reluctance. "And...maybe some Death By Chocolate Cake?"
"That's our Eady," Kile says. And then we all laugh, and for one moment in my world, everything is right and anything is possible.