Oredison Palace, Gazda.
The morning of the
Commencement Ball.

Once I started talking, the words sort of poured out of me. It was an uncontrollable torrent of emotion and scrambled thoughts. I'd never told my story in its entirety, in fact, as I spoke, I realized that I didn't even know where I should start. But despite my scattered speech and hasty storytelling, Isla listened intently.

Her fingers were white-knuckled against the edge of her makeshift ashtray as she listened to me talk about meeting Kai and about how I'd once thought I loved Cohen. I told her about the end of the last Culling and how Cohen had killed Viera. Then, I told her about the rebellion and my place in it—how Caine had manipulated the Erydian rebellion to suit his own desires, how he'd convinced the other camps that Kai was the rightful king, and how he'd amassed an army that stretched beyond his own mercenaries.

I told her about tacet and about how we'd gone against Larkin. I somehow kept myself from crying as I told her about what had happened to Uri and how she had died. To my surprise, Isla's face did not change as I told her about what was happening to us—how we had our hands tied, how we couldn't fight against Caine without risking our friends in Third Corps being killed.

I told her about the upcoming Culling trial and how Heidi and Nadia were going to have to fight. One of them would die. My voice did not waver as I explained how I wasn't sure what to do about Kai being king—but that I knew if I could take the throne, I could break it all from the inside.

I could end the Culling once and for all.

I was breathing heavily, my eyes trained on the closed doors to the lift as I said, "I think I can win against Kinsley. If it were between us, I could kill her. As queen, I could fight Caine. I'd have the power to end it all. And if the Synod didn't side with me—If they don't side with me, I'll burn it all. I'll—Isla, I have to stop all of this. I have to bring down the Warwick's and end the Culling. After me, there will be no more arenas and no more dead girls. No more unwilling sacrifices. Can't—Can't you see that it has to end?"

For a moment, I just looked at her. It could definitely be a mistake to have told her the truth. Maybe I should have lied. Maybe I should have left and gone to my room. Left the scheming and the planning and begging to people like Cohen—people who had connections and crowns. But the thrum in my blood was the closest thing I'd felt to my ability in days, and it told me I was right to do this.

Isla could be the key.

Her brow furrowed. "But how can I help?"

"You have a boat and guards with you. You could get Nadia and Heidi out of here. With your help, we could get them out of the palace and out of Erydia. Away from Caine and the Culling."

"Darragh has a boat. Darragh has guards."

"If—If Darragh could help us—"

"Monroe, I think you may be rushing headlong into something too big for you to handle on your own. Why must you be queen? Why should—Why should you request aid for your friends but not for yourself?"

"Because—" I hesitated, suddenly feeling stupid.

The truth was that I didn't know. All I was certain of was that Caine hated me. He hated me and had Kai controlled partially because of me. And while I wanted to run from this, something told me I couldn't leave—I had to stay and had to fight. Some dark part of my consciousness felt tied to this. As if I was destined to walk this path. I had to see it all through to the end.

Even if it was my end.

I also felt like I was the only person who could play Caine's game. He loved toying with me too much to actually let me die. Over the last few weeks, I'd realized that. I wasn't nearly as expendable as he wanted me to believe I was. We both knew—Caine and me—that if I were killed, Kai wouldn't hold back. Last night had proved it.

If Caine thought he could keep Kai under his thumb by just using Anna, he was wrong. Kai loved his mother, sure—but he loved me too. We were a team and had been for months. I would have to figure out tacet, but if Kai and I could get on the throne—I knew there was very little that could stop us. I needed to change my place in the game.

I straightened slightly, lifting my chin so I was looking at Isla head-on. "Caine is going to make someone queen. If Nadia and Heidi are taken out of the picture, his choice will be between Kinsley and me. And I think he needs me more than he wants to admit. I'm the only way he'll keep Kai under his thumb. Without me, Caine will lose some of the power he holds. I'll let him think he's won. But if I'm queen, I can get rid of him. I'll have the ability to actually fight him. Kai's rule is tenuous at best. The Erydian people, even the Synod and the Temple, are used to following a queen. They wouldn't question the validity of my rule, not the way they question Kai. In that position, I would be able to make changes. I could keep Caine from ruining Erydia."

"And once you are made queen, what then? Will you just stay in power?"

"I have no intention of remaining on the throne. Actually," I admitted, "I have no intention of letting there be a throne at all. If I had my way, I'd burn this place to the ground. I'd rebuild our government all over again."

Her brows rose. "And are you prepared for what that would mean for Erydia? For your people? It wouldn't be an easy task. Are you really ready to face that challange?"

Good goddess, no.

"People with political experience—people like Cohen—could help me," I said. "He could lead the charge. I don't want to be queen. I've never wanted to be queen. But I'm willing to take that role temporarily so that we can regain control from Caine. If we don't stop him, he'll run my country into the ground. Vayelle is already watching him closely. They back Kai's claim to the throne, but I have no doubt that they are waiting for a moment to sweep in and take control for themselves. Even during the Culled rebellion, there was always the slight worry that they weren't genuine in their desire to help us."

She considered this. "And who will approve those people? Who will get to decide who is in power and how this new government will run? You? Your king?"

My throat burned. "I don't know."

Isla's eyes shone with unveiled compassion as she took my hand. "I am not asking to upset you, Monroe. I am only trying to get information to bring to Darragh. He will ask the same questions and probably a million more." The corners of her lips twitched with a small smile. "My brother...he is..." I saw her consider her words. "He is both a warrior and a worrier. He will head into battle for a cause he believes in, but not before he has examined it from every possible direction. He has to know every way we could fail before he will try to succeed." She shrugged. "It is his way."

"I don't have all the answers, but I just can't stand by and watch my friends die, not when I know there has to be a way to save them. If you could talk to Darragh and convince him to help us...Isla, if he could get Nadia and Heidi out—maybe Cohen too—it would help me."

"And what about your people in the other camp—the one you came from?"

"If Darragh could get Cohen out, I think he could find a way to help them. As it is right now, we can't do anything. But if Cohen could get some support, whether that's from Pellarmus or even hidden rebels here in Gazda or the other cities, it's possible he could go to the camp and save our friends. I'm sure not every member of the Culled knew what Caine was up to. I'm sure there are plenty who would fight with us."

"And the drug? Removing the other goddess-touched girls will not help you to be able to use your ability."

I exhaled. "I'm trained to fight without my ability. And Kai is too. He's a soldier and he's good at what he does. Even with the drug, we could fight Caine. We could kill him. He wouldn't expect it from us, especially since we haven't been fighting back."

"So, you want Cohen and your two goddess-touched friends to be taken from the palace—possibly from Erydia?"

I nodded.

"And if they were, Cohen could amass some forces and go after your captive friends—taking away one of the reasons you cannot fight Caine."

"Yes."

She considered. "There is much about your plan that makes sense and much that leaves me wondering..."

I chewed my bottom lip and nodded. "I know, I'm sorry I can't answer all of your questions. I'm sorry that I just don't have the answers. I hadn't planned to tell you any of this and, honestly, you're the first person I've really said any of this to."

She gave my hand a small squeeze before she pulled away from me. "I am glad you told me. And I am sorry that this man—Caine—had hurt you the way he has." She frowned. "I will try to speak to my brother about this. He can be stubborn, especially when he already has his own ideas and plans. But I will try for you. For all of you."

"Thank you, Isla."

She smiled and pressed the button to open the elevator doors once more. "Of course." She bumped my shoulder with her own. "Powerful women must stick together."

***

Isla stayed by my side as we walked the palace. We had no real direction. Our steps were slow, almost meandering. While I was quiet for most of our walk, Isla was talkative.

Isla seemed to hold very little of herself back, and yet she was still somehow vague. I think it was because her words were often not entirely directed at me, and so it wasn't a full conversation or explanation. Instead, it was like she was speaking to herself. I was the audience and this was her show.

I listened as she talked about her different visits to Erydia and the places she'd been to.

"We used to play hide-and-go-seek here as children." Her lips twitched. "We probably played the game long after it was appropriate for us too. Our mothers would spend hours chatting together, and while they were not looking, we would run around the palace like wild animals. Darragh says I am still a wild animal. Oh! I had my first kiss here. Just in that room there, in the shadows. It was while we were playing hide-and-go-seek—you know, it's a strange game. Not one we play in Pellarmus." She shrugged. "Anway, I was fourteen and much too old to be running around hiding in dark rooms with boys." She shrugged. "But I liked it. I liked the dark rooms and some of the boys too. In the dark, no one is royal. The dark is just the dark. It makes wild animals of us all. Well, everyone except Darragh. He's always royal. Once, Darragh caught me kissing Hugo in the library and, well, after that I was not allowed to play the game."

"Hugo Dellacov?" I asked, surprised.

Isla nodded. "Yes. But don't worry. His heart was never in it. We were just curious kids, you know. He has always had a...a thing for Uriel. But, back then, we were both around fourteen and she was only eleven or something. I'm sure she was not yet on his mind—at least not in that way. Age differences seem to matter less the older your get."

I smiled. "It's strange to imagine him playing a game like that, much less kissing someone." Especially someone who wasn't Uri.

She nodded. "Yes. He grew up and became a very serious person, but he was not always like that. I knew him before he was Captain of the Guard or whatever the hell his title is now. He used to just be a lanky, awkward teenage boy. Handsome, but still a boy." Her smile faltered slightly. "In your story, you said he was a part of your rebellion, but he is not here with you...?"

I heard her silent question.

"He was with us when we went to Linomi on a mission for our camp. There was a big explosion in the city and a lot of people died. Larkin planned it all. He went missing after that. I didn't see his body, but that doesn't really mean anything. I don't really know where he is anymore. He could have been lost in the wreckage or he might have made it out. I'd like to believe he survived."

"Oh." She pursed her lips. "So, he has been gone all this time and...and, if he is alive, he may not know about Uriel." An odd expression passed over her face and she sighed. "That is...unfortunate. I was sad to hear about what happened to her. I am even more sad now, knowing the truth." Her shoulders slumped. "We were friends, Uri and me. She was a comfort when my mother passed. We used to write letters to one another. The idea that she died—was killed—the way she was, it hurts my heart."

"Mine too."

"There are some people who are too good to get mixed up in something as bad as all of this. It's unfortunate that Uriel ended up where she did. She was meant for better things."

"She would have made a good queen."

Isla nodded. "Yes. She would have. A compassionate, very wild, queen."

"The best kind of queen."

She laughed at this. "Yes. Wild and compassionate—it is what I strive to be."

Isla was still laughing as we stepped onto the hallway leading to the throne room. Just as we were passing the closed doorway, a rough, accented voice called her name.

At the sound, Isla spun and quickly hid her empty ashtray behind her back. "Darragh!" she said, her smile easy. "I was just telling Monroe about all of our adventures here in the palace."

The prince approached us, his eyes on me as he said, "I'm sure our make-believe adventures are nothing compared to what Miss Benson has experienced in her time here."

Isla nodded quickly and shifted slightly, letting the folds of her skirt hide the ashtray as she said, "Yes. I'm sure."

There was a movement from behind Darragh and I noticed then that he hadn't been alone. The reporter who had been speaking to Kai earlier stood in the doorway of the room from which he'd just come. She saw me looking and took a sharp step back, disappearing into the room once more.

Darragh's green eyes slid to Isla as he asked, "And what were the two of you doing?"

"Strolling," she answered.

He nodded. "Clearly. But where were you going?"

"Nowhere," Isla said, her smile tight. "Monroe was telling me about her Culling and I was giving her advice on being a good royal."

I didn't know exactly why there was tension between the two of them, but when Darragh looked at me, I made sure to nod enthusiastically. "Yep. That's what we were doing."

"Hmmm." He tilted his head to one side as he considered me. "Careful where you get your information, Miss Benson. Not everyone is qualified to give advice."

Isla looped her free arm through mine, careful to keep her ashtray out of sight as she tugged me backward and away from her brother. "Anyway, Darragh, it was nice to see you. We will be going now—"

Darragh cut her off. "I actually need to speak to you, Isla. If you don't mind."

Her shoulders slumped slightly. "Oh...um...but Monroe and I were just—"

He shot his sister a tight-lipped smile and said, "I'm sure you can find time to see her later. At the ball, perhaps?"

Her face fell. "But Darragh—"

"It wasn't a request."

I snaked an arm behind Isla and took hold of the ashtray. I tapped the inside of her wrist with my finger until I felt her grip loosen. Her shoulders slumped with relief as the weight of it settle into my hand. Her own fingers tightened in the fabric of her skirt as she watched her brother turn on his heels and walk away from us. Isla waited for two heartbeats before she shot me a thankful smile and she followed after him.

I watched her go, unsure what the dynamic between them was. There was something going on—clearly—but I didn't understand it and had no way of piecing it all together. I waited a moment, trying to listen for anything weird. When I heard nothing suspicious, I turned on my heels and headed towards the lift that would take me up to my bedroom.

I made it less than a few yards before I heard footsteps coming my way. My heart was in my throat as I turned to look over my shoulder, certain I would find Caine coming after me, but it wasn't him. Instead, it was the reporter from earlier—the same girl who had just been with Darragh.

Her face fell as she saw the fear in my expression. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I just—" She held out a hand to me. "I'm Harper Vance. I'm a senior reporter for The Oredison Oracle." When I didn't move to shake her hand, she let it drop back to her side. Harper glanced around the hall as if she realized what she was doing wasn't necessarily allowed. She offered me a nervous smile and lowered her voice. "I was wondering if I could speak to you privately."

I hesitated. "I—um—I'm not—I don't—" I shook my head. "I'm sorry, but no thank you." I turned and started walking towards the lift, ready to get away from her, but she followed.

"It's just that you don't speak to anyone. No one in the press has talked to you—or any of the other goddess-touched girls, for that matter. It's weird, right? I mean, last time we were allowed to ask you questions at the Commencement Ball, and this time—this time we have a gag order and we have to sign papers to even attend. And even then, we can only take pictures."

"I'm sorry, Miss Vance, but I can't tell you anything."

She sped up so that we were walking side by side. "I had to jump through hoops to get this job," she said. "I'm one of only ten reporters that have been allowed to report on this. One of ten. That's crazy. And everything I say and do is censored. It's wrong. The Erydian people deserve to know what's actually happening."

We came to a stop in front of the lift and I pressed the button. "And what exactly do you think is happening, Miss Vance?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't know. But something, clearly. You can't possibly look at me and tell me that everything is okay."

"Of course, it isn't okay," I said through clenched teeth. "It's the Culling. If we were smiling and laughing and telling you bullshit last time, it's because we felt like we had to. I'm sorry that we aren't all thrilled to be back."

"See!" Harper said, her voice full of excitement. "That's what I mean! You don't want to be here, but you are. They're making you compete. That guy, Mirren Caine—he's making you."

I rolled my eyes. Something about her, about my inability to be truthful, made me want to scream. I wished I could tell her everything. I wished I could blow a lid off this entire operation—but until the people of Third Corps were safe, until Nadia and Heidi were gone, I couldn't say anything. I couldn't be honest.

I swallowed and said, "They've always been making us, Miss Vance. For generations, we've been being made to fight and die. There's nothing news-worthy about that."

The lift chimed and the doors slid open. Before I could step inside, Harper blocked the doorway, using her body to keep me from going inside and to keep the doors open. "Why not give me an interview? Why not let me print your story?"

"Because it's dangerous."

"Why?"

I tried to sidestep her, but she only moved into my way. "Because it just is."

"So, you're saying it has nothing to do with the rebels locked in the palace prisons or the hostages left in Vayelle?"

I blinked at her, dumbfounded, as she stepped forward and took hold of my wrist. I nearly dropped Isla's ashtray in surprise.

Harper's voice was soft, no more than a breath as she said, "I'm on your side."

Without a word, she lifted a hand to the collar of her dress and slid the fabric aside. On her shoulder there was a small, almost unnoticeable tattoo. It was white, like a scar, and it blended in to her skin so well that if she hadn't pointed right at it, I wouldn't have seen.

It was the silhouette of a rabbit, the outline of it no bigger than the end of a bottle cork.

This could be a trap.

She could be a trap.

Harper's grip on my wrist tightened.

"I'm on your side," she said again.

I pulled away from her. "I really should be going."

She pursed her lips, annoyance written all over her feminine features. She didn't move out of my way, didn't budge an inch. "Just one interview. Thirty minutes tops. I swear, I won't share it with The Oracle."

"Then why do it? If you won't give it your newspaper, why even bother—"

Again, her voice turned sharp, angry—but still no more than a whisper. "Because other people need to know what's happening and you—Monroe, you could tell us the truth. Your story could change things. Give us hope. Let me publish it, let me tell the others about what's really going on."

Other people.

My throat burned and, for a moment, I wished I could summon fire. I wished I could sense it, brush my fingers against it, let that emptiness inside of me be filled like it used to be. But I was not that same girl. I was not the same child who had put on this necklace, who had written those treasonous letters. I was not the same person who had walked into the arena and I was certainly not the same girl who had walked out of it.

"The Culled is over," I snapped. "The rebellion failed. It's the reason we're here. If you're still fighting for that—still pushing that cause—you'd be better off losing all hope. It's done. That fight is over. It's finished. Let it go."

Harper spoke through clenched teeth, passion alight in her blue eyes as she said, "Who said I'm with the Culled?"

"Who else would you be with? What else is that mark supposed to represent?"

"Erydia. The thousands of people who are tired of being lied to and kept in the dark. The people who are done having the claws of our government in their gut. The thousands that are done being feasted on." Her expression softened as she said, "Just give me a chance to explain."

"I don't have time." I gestured to the palace around us. "I'm watched, always. I guarantee, Caine will hear of this conversation. He'll want to know what you said to me."

Harper tugged the collar of her dress back into place and sighed. "There is a network of people, just like me, who are still fighting for freedom and new laws and lowered taxes and a better world. We may have started with the Culled, but when they forgot our mission—we did not. And maybe you think the fight is over, but the families who are risking everything right now to work with us, they don't think so. They're willing to die for a chance at seeing change. You were once willing to die for that too."

I closed my eyes. "Miss Vance, I wish I could say whatever it is you want to hear. I wish I could give you some version of hope, but I don't have any. I'm tired and I don't know what I could possibly offer to you or anyone else."

"The truth, that's what you offer us," she said. "What's happening here? What happened the night of the new king's coronation? Who the hell is Kaius Warwick?"

"I'll tell you something—Kai is not your problem. Mirren Caine is. And you would do well to avoid him at all costs, especially with a mark like that on display. If he saw that tattoo—if he caught on to what you're actually doing—censorship will be the least of your worries."

Harper sighed, her shoulders slumping as she finally conceded a step, letting me through and onto the lift. For a moment, she stayed standing in the doorway, her body still holding the doors open as she said, "You can find us everywhere, if you know how to look. We're waiting. All just waiting for the next moment. The real fight hasn't even happened yet. And...And it'd be great if you'd join us. Stand with us. But I realize being queen may have a stronger appeal." She shrugged and stepped back. "If you change your mind, Birk Bisley knows how to reach me. There are others too, but he's got the easiest access to you. Send a message through him. He's trustworthy enough."

With that, Harper turned away and the doors to the lift slid shut.

***

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