He winced under the pressure. "Are you really going to do this?"
"I don't know," I said quietly, taking out my knife. "I don't know what to do."
"I can't . . . I don't understand—" I could feel him shaking. My chest tightened. "Why?"
"I don't know. I don't want to." I took a deep breath. "Just come with me."
"My home is here, and so is yours."
"This was never my home," I corrected, holding the knife to his heart. "I never belonged here."
Lance's shoulders sagged and I could almost hear him—feel him—shatter inside. I needed to leave. By now, the RA had been alerted, getting their gear ready. There were shouts coming from inside.
"Lance!" Demetria yelled. "Fight back!"
But he was too broken to move. "I thought I was finally . . . you've ruined everything." Lance shook, from fear or from hatred I would never know. "You used me."
"I used myself," I said, setting my jaw. "I thought everything was fine. I was going to stay, believe me."
"Fight back!" Charlotte screeched, but Lance didn't move. I slowly pulled him back, towards the horse.
"Let her," Lance whispered. My eyes widened, surprised. Why wasn't he fighting me? "Let her do as she pleases," he said louder.
"Get on the horse," I pointed it at him. "Now. That's an order."
He did as he was told, and I tied his hands behind his back with a piece of cloth. "No one moves or he's dead," I warned, staring them down. Lorelle stood tall, but her eyes were shining. Lance was pale. His hair was in his eyes but he made no effort to move it.
I slid onto the front. Everyone was white-faced. I turned to find a pistol in Lance's pocket, and slowly pulled it out, aiming it at all of them.
"Go inside," I said harshly. "Now." No one moved. Frustrated, I scowled. "I said go."
Charlotte was the first to act, stepping back. Darren held my gaze, but he also followed Charlotte. Aland retreated. Lorelle and Demetria were left.
"You'll never get away with our fastest riders on your tail," Demetria said, coldly. "I'll alert them immediately. They already know something is wrong."
"Try it." The pistol in my hand was steady as I aimed it at her forehead. "Go ahead. Tell them. I have taken down armies. What makes you think I won't be able to shoot your riders down?" I pressed the pistol to Lance's temple. "I just have to pull the trigger. You have five seconds. Get in or I'll shoot." Kill all the threats.
She didn't move. Lorelle held her ground. She watched me carefully. "Adalia, you can do better than this."
"You don't deserve to speak," I spat. "You killed him. You killed Xavier and I will never forgive you for it." Her lips trembled but she didn't dare move.
"Five. . ." I started counting down. "Four. . ." She wasn't moving. Her eyes were wide. "Three. . ." I was going to kill her. It almost felt funny that I was finally going to get my revenge. "Two." She didn't blink. "One." I stared at her for a second. Lorelle covered her ears.
And then I did it.
The bullet flew, grazing Demetria's skin right above her shoulder. She gave a hiss of pain from the heat of the bullet.
"No assassin can kill their friends," I said hoarsely, and Lance's voice came from behind me.
"You're not our friend."
My stomach twisted.
I kicked the horse, and it took off.
"Lance," I said as the horse galloped. "Lance, talk to me."
He didn't say a word, so I slowed the horse. "Please," I pressed. "Lance?"
Suddenly he jerked up. "Enough!" he yelled. "I will never speak to you. I trusted you. I did everything for you. I cared for you and stood for you. I believed you. And you turned on me. You've kidnapped me! I hate you. And don't tell me it's a strong word because I know how strong it is. I hate everything about you. I hate you for coming here and most of all I hate myself for not being able to convince myself that I hate you, when in fact I do the very opposite."
I stared at him over my shoulder, dumbfounded, as if he'd slapped me across the face. Suddenly the horse jerked, shaking its head. I'd been pulling the reigns so hard the bit had pushed too far back into the horse's mouth.
I rubbed my face and reached for Lance's arm. His hands were still tied behind his back.
"Don't touch me," he spat. I recoiled, and dismounted the horse, going to untie his hands. Before I could touch him he jerked forward, away from my hands. "Don't. Touch. Me."
"Shut up," I said, grabbing his clenched fists. His knuckles were white, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He didn't struggle at all.
As the cloth slipped off his wrists, he didn't move them, just kept them behind his back.
I remounted the horse, in front of him and kicked it. It was at a steady gait.
"Why," he said quietly. "Why would you do this?"
The horse trotted.
"Let me explain," I said in a low voice. "Give me a chance."
He didn't speak, so I continued.
I explained to him how the Queen had taken me in; how she'd raised me as her daughter. How the King had seen potential in me. I owed him for treating me the way he had, as if I was special. He'd given me everything, and in return I had to obey his commands. I was sent to get the antidote to save his son's life, and as I ended, I left out the details about Xavier.
Lance hadn't said a word.
I let out a sigh. "I couldn't go back without you or it was my head on the line."
"So your life over mine," he scoffed. "Like the murderer you are, huh?"
His words shocked me, but it was a harsh reality. The truth had just slapped me in the face using Lance's words. "Lance, I—"
"You killed Lorelle's father. My uncle. Even if he was her stepfather," Lance spoke loudly. "You killed everyone I knew. You are a murderer, don't you dare deny it."
"I'm not," I protested, as if my words would change anything. "I haven't denied anything."
"You're heartless."
That word, again. I stiffened, setting my jaw, my fists tightening around the reigns. "Stop."
"Why should I? Can't you take the truth?"
"Stop it."
"Tell me, who else have you killed while they were sleeping? Who else have you taken from their sweet little children? Whose newly wedded wife have you murdered while she was alone? Go on, do tell."
"Stop," I said, feeling blood rush up to my head. My heart pounded in my ears as I tried to regain control over my emotions. "Just stop."
"Who's next? Me? All for your special prince. He's probably already dead." I tightened my hands around the reigns, my knuckles white. "And I can't believe," he shook his head, "That I almost told you that I—"
"Stop!" I shouted. "What would you have done in my place? Don't tell me you'd kill yourself and your best friend. Don't tell me you'd be that stupid!" I was yelling so loud my throat hurt. "Can't you see anything? It hurts me too! I hate myself, for God's sake! I need you to hate me, understand? Forget about me. Go—this is your last chance. I won't stop you. Hate me, because that's the only thing that'll help us both, Lance."
Lance's eyes were sharp. "I'm not going to leave."
"Lance, stop being an idiot!" I was frustrated. I wanted to abandon him and leave empty-handed. Carrying out my orders weren't supposed to leave me so emotionally jumbled. "Just run."
"You say that like it's so easy," Lance said, bringing his hands up. "Tie my hands. I'm not leaving."
"Lance, I'm not—"
"Adalia. Do it."
"I'm not going to tie you." His eyes slipped to the dagger at my belt and I shook my head. "I'm never, ever going to hurt you." I yanked it out and tossed it. The horse had halted.
"Adalia—"
"Don't. You don't know me, from this day on. Understand? You don't know me."
"No. I can't."
"Stop, Lance. You don't know me."
"I don't know you," he repeated, as if it were a sacred chant.
I squeezed my eyes shut. "You never did."
The guards ripped him off the horse, clicking cold metal cuffs onto his wrists. I was about to say something before Lance shook his head, bags under his eyes, his light brown hair matted to his forehead. He was kicked forward and he landed hard on his knees, the fabric ripping open.
"The King is waiting for you," a guard said to me after a welcoming bow. I nodded, and without emotion, my heart breaking, I walked up the steps without a second glance at Lance. His eyes never met mine, not once.
I don't know you.
You never knew me.