Hi! So, just so you know, from now on there are going to be multiple points of view. If it's anyone's point of view other than Evie's, the story will be written the third person.

No mourners,

HappyBeetle1

Rachel doesn't know what to think of Evie. She can't help but think of Evie as a little weak, even if she's ashamed of it. And the fact that she and Ethan are now traveling with the princess?

She hadn't known Carter, or anyone in the camp very well. She'd only been there a few days when the Reds came. But that doesn't mean she isn't scarred. That doesn't mean the dead don't haunt her.

Running a hand through her hair, Rachel looks at the two people standing with her in the abandoned camp. She needs to step up, needs to do something. This was the whole reason she left home, wasn't it? To do something.

So far, it's Ethan being the brave one. It's Rachel's turn.

She finally says it, even though she knows Ethan and Evie will both be against the idea, "We need to go to the palace."

Ethan's eyes harden, and she knows what is going on his head. What he's thinking.

Cowards. Weak. Ignorant. Hiding in their comfort as the rest of the country starves.

Then there's Evie. Evie, who must have left the palace for a reason. Evie, who Rachel can't help but think is running away.

They're reluctant, but she can fix that.

"Look, I know you don't want to," Rachel says before they can refuse, "I know that the palace is the last place you want to be right now. But I've been thinking this through. I was going to suggest it to the other scientist... but then... ," she swallows, "Anyway, I've got the ideas for the cure, and I've still got the plans I made with the others in my bag. But FTRD doesn't have the right equipment to actually make the cure."

Evie seems to shrink. Ethan seems to grow.

She continues, "We need to use the palace lab."

_____________________________________

They leave straight away, gathering as much as they can and stuffing it in bags. Ethan fiddles with his satchel strap, loosening and tightening it over and over again. He's nervous. Terrified. The burst of confidence he felt after Carter died is gone. But he has an idea that he can't push away, no matter how hard he tries.

If he met the royal family. If he met the Queen. Could he make her better?

Or would his anger consume him and punish her for every way that she has failed?

But that wouldn't be any use, would it? Hurting the Queen, telling her the mistakes she's made and hurting her for them. No matter how much he wanted some form of vengeance, vengeance wouldn't help. He needed to make her better.

His moms couldn't forgive the Queen, and he won't either. But he can't run in blind, only to make everything worse.

________________________

Rachel can't stand it anymore. She needs to know. What happened to the Queen? What made her fall? Why did the royal family fail so badly?

She jogs up to Evie.

"Hi," she says, smiling, "you talk now, right?"

Evie nods. When she speaks, her voice is dry and hoarse from the years she spent staying silent, "Yeah. I do."

"Can you tell me then?"

Evie pulls the ribbon out of her hair, letting it tumble over her shoulders. Rachel can't help but be jealous of Evie's soft, tangle-free hair. Why is royalty always beautiful? The answer comes immediately and she feels like smacking herself. Because they can afford it.

Besides, I'm a lot stronger than Evie. Wouldn't I rather be strong than beautiful?

Evie opens her mouth, snapping Rachel out of her thoughts, "Tell you what?"

"Tell me about... the Queen. What happened?"

Evie stares straight ahead, "Oh."

"I'm sorry. Is that too personal? You don't have to tell me-"

"No," Evie says, cutting her off, "It's fine. I haven't told anyone what happened. It'll be a relief to get it off my chest."

"Wait," After rifling through her backpack, Rachel holds up a pack of chips. She grins, "Snacks."

After a moment, Evie grins too.

____________________________________________

I tell Rachel everything. Mother's death. The days leading up to it. The killings. All while shovelling chips from her bag. The one thing I hold back on, is my reaction.

I tell her what I told the guards, I tell her I hid. But I also tell her I did it for the greater good. I tell her that, if I'd let the news get out, the world would descend into chaos.

It's not a complete lie. It's not untrue that I thought that. For a year, it was what I told myself to push away the shame. That I was doing it for the greater good.

I know I wasn't.

I know I was a coward.

But it's not my responsibility. Why should I be Queen when I don't want to? When I'm not ready? It isn't fair.

I lie to Rachel. Because I don't want her and Ethan to realize how horrible I am and leave. I only want to feel at home.

_______________________________________

When Evie's finished, she says it's only fair that Rachel tells her story as well.

Rachel takes a handful of chips, "I ran away."

Evie's eyes widen, "Why?"

Taking a deep breath, Rachel continues, "My parents didn't let me leave the house. As soon as the plague began to take over, they said it was too dangerous. They told stories of streets filled with corpses and blood. They said that the moment I stepped outside, I would be attacked by the millions of Reds out there. They were afraid for me."

Evie frowns, and Rachel pushes away the sudden bitterness within her. Evie's used to protection and comfort. Rachel is used to fear.

She keeps reminding herself that it's not Evie's fault.

"They were afraid for me," Rachel says, "But they were afraid for themselves too. Their friends had died. And Grandma. And I was scared too. Of course. I mean, people I knew were dead. But still. They wanted to hide. I wanted to do something."

Rachel hopes Evie can't see her emotions. After so long, Rachel hadn't managed to forgive her parents for trapping her.

"I had an idea. I'd thought of a cure after years of research through the little internet access they gave me. I'd written it down and shown it to them. But they doubted me. They still wouldn't let me leave and create it. I could've helped millions, but they were holding me back. So I left."

She can remember what happened. She'd had enough. And when her parents said no for the millionth time she stormed off. She'd planned to only walk a little, just to the end of the street, then she'd turn around.

She found herself packing.

And when she got to the end of the street, her bag slung over one shoulder. She turned to look back. She looked at the streets. Abandoned.

She needed to help. And she couldn't go back.

So she left.