Reubinon Palace, Pellarmus.

We'd planned for breakfast to be a calm time when we could all sit together and catch Cohen up on the things he'd missed, but when Darragh arrived, the conversation shifted from casual discussions to talk of war. Cohen wanted to know everything they'd discovered about the machine that had attacked us on the beach. He wanted to know what had happened to Leighton. That death was one Cohen carried visibly—as if just the realization of Leighton's sacrifice had aged him.

I stayed silent through most of it, thankful to have Nadia, Anna, and Heidi separating my chair from Darragh's. I'd picked my spot next to Britta before he'd arrived, hoping to ask her about what she knew about the deaths in Vayelle, but as soon as Darragh strolled in, I thanked the goddess for giving me the accidental foresight.

"They've recovered both of their bodies," Britta had said to me, her brow furrowed with concern. "Many are unrecognizable or unable to be claimed by their families, but I sent a message last night asking for Kace and Ambrose to be buried in Varos, if possible. Of course, I'd have the bodies held if I could but..."

But they'd already been sitting in the sun rotting for days. And it would be weeks before I could make it back to Erydia and bury them myself. Something about the choice being taken away from me was soothing. If I wasn't there, then I wouldn't have to see them like that. There would be a lack of closure, yes, but my last visuals of my brothers wouldn't be of their broken corpses.

My throat had been tight with emotion as I'd asked, "And Ellora?"

"There were dozens of bodies and it's taking some time to sort through them. Your brothers were known to my spies and were easily identified. We don't know what Ellora looked like in life so," she shrugged and reached out to touch my hand. "If she is there, we'll find her."

I didn't know what to hope for.

If Ellora wasn't dead in Third Corps, then she was alive somewhere. And there was hope for my unborn niece or nephew. But that hope came with a cost. If she were alive, then she might also be in danger. While I wanted her to survive, I didn't want to imagine what Caine might do if he got his hands on her. Especially if he knew who she was.

I couldn't think of that, not as Cohen peppered Darragh will questions about his plans for Erydia.

According to Darragh, Pellarmus would set up some sort of regent in our country and rule from afar. They would be able to visit whenever necessary, but they hoped that Erydia would retain most of it's freedoms—perhaps even gain some. Darragh's army would stay in place and have a solid presence for a little while, at least until things had settled down.

Darragh expected there to be some dissent, especially in some of the more devout cities. Many of the temples had proclaim Kai goddess-blessed. They'd seen his surprise arrival as a miraculous thing and they were revolt when the Culling was dismantled.

My friends asked questions—things my mind was too tried to even consider.

Would Erydians be expected to forsake the goddess and take on the Pellarmi gods? No. Darragh had no desire to dictate religion outside of banning the Culling and any human sacrifices dictated by our temples.

What about prisoners of war? What would be done to Larkin or Kinsley? Darragh's answers were vaguer where that was concerned. What happened to Larkin, he said, would be Britta's decision, since it was her sister. As for Kinsley, Darragh didn't care what became of her.

He stirred his tea, his expression bored as he said, "If Kinsley becomes a nuisance in this fight, I'll gladly put an end to her. From what I've gathered over the years, she's a puppet at best. Her father has all the ambition, she merely has a goddess-given dog in the fight. He uses her."

Cohen nodded. "She's afraid to disappoint him."

Darragh's brows rose as he nodded in agreement. "Yes. I guess we'll see if that fear will keep her loyal. I wouldn't be surprised if she crawled to our side of the line once it's drawn. Kinsley is a coward, but she isn't stupid. She'll want to be on the side that wins."

I bristled at the words, somehow annoyed at the flippant way he talked about another goddess-touched girl. I didn't like Kinsley, but I'd seen her in the arena against Joslyn. Yes, she'd almost lost, but she'd ultimately won. And she'd fought like hell for it, even before Larkin had intervened on her behalf. I didn't think Kinsley was a coward and I certainly wouldn't be the one to underestimate her.

Of course, I didn't say any of that to Darragh. Let him think he wanted. If he fancied himself king of two countries, then let him earn them. He'd have more than just Caine to contend with on our shores. If tacet was disabled to make room for us to use our abilities in this fight, then Larkin and Kinsley would have access to their abilities too. They would be able to fight for themselves.

This game might very well end with two queens on the throne.

Britta also stayed silent on the matter. In fact, she'd only spoken to me since she'd entered the dining room. I wondered what had transpired between she and Cohen. Deep down, I hoped that they hadn't argued. This week had been hell for so many of us and I wanted there to be some sort of goodness in it—some small piece of reconciliation.

Cohen may not have forever to decide to forgive Britta. I hadn't been given the chance to tell Kace I forgave him and now I'd live with those unspoken words forever.

After most of us had finished eating, Anna excused herself, citing a need for fresh air and a desire to paint. She walked around the table to my side before she left the dining room. I held my breath, unsure, as she paused at my chair. I nearly wept as she pulled me against and held me there. She smelled of oil paint and tea and warm fires and lavender and safety and all things a mother should.

"I'm sorry for your loss," she said into my hair.

I nodded, fighting past the ache in my throat as I whispered, "Thank you."

She stayed holding me for a long moment before she stepped back and brushed a bit of hair behind my ear. "Come talk to me if you need to. I'm here."

"I will."

She smiled at me, gave a small nod of respect to Britta, and then left the dining room.

Nadia watched all of it with those wide, worried eyes. As the door to the dining room clicked shut, she leaned towards me, careful to keep her voice low as she said, "Are you okay? You've barely eaten anything. I know...I know this isn't easy. I can't imagine how you feel right now."

"I'm fine."

I'd never been farther from fine.

I was still mad, but most of my anger was filtered towards Darragh and Caine. I knew, deep down, that the king of Pellarmus couldn't have saved my brothers even if he'd sent troops as soon as we'd received Kace's message. I knew it. But I had to be angry at someone, because if I let that anger turn to grief once more, I didn't think I'd be able to go on. And I had to.

There were things I still needed to do.

Her brow furrowed but she nodded. "What can we do to help—What can I do?"

I shook my head. "I'm just ready for it to all be done. It's exhausting talking about it over and over again."

"Well," Darragh said, clearly listening in to our private conversation. "You won't have to wait much longer. I plan to move troops next week. I've already started to call them up. Ships and supplies are being prepared. Our spies are on the move, our forces in Erydia are gathering. It's a matter of weeks now."

Nadia turned her eyes to Britta. "Has there been any news about tacet?"

The queen nodded and set down her fork. "Yes. I received word two days ago that the factory producing tacet had been successfully infiltrated. I'd—I'd initially planned to burn the whole things down, but I was advised against that. I had a team of chemist here in Pellarmus examine the formula my spies sent over and they were able find a way to mix the existing ingredients in a way that would nullify it. I don't understand it myself, but I guess they'll change some things and the drug being produced will be essentially a placebo. This way, Caine and his court can continue to take it, but it won't have any effect on your abilities once you're in the palace."

"So, Caine doesn't know the drug was tampered with?" Cohen asked.

"No."

Heidi seemed to be thinking along the same lines I was because she asked, "What about Kinsley and Larkin?"

Britta fiddled with the napkin in her lap as she answered, "I'm assuming they'll be thankful enough to have their abilities back that they won't be too loud about it. I don't think my sister would risk having her ability taken away again."

Darragh nodded in agreement. "With any luck, Larkin will kill the Erydian king and his puppeteer for us."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from commenting on that.

I wanted to scream and fight and demand that someone listen to me. For weeks, I'd felt ignored. I knew that the person I loved—the person who had always listened to me—was everyone else's enemy. And I could see it from their point of view. They had their reasons.

But I had my reasons to fight for him too.

Even if they weren't necessarily reasonable.

I wasn't sure that the heart had ever been a thing of reason. If the story of our world's creation were true and the ten daughters had really once walked this earth—then love couldn't be a reasonable thing. It wasn't meant to be. Love had always been impulsive and uncontrollable and wild. Love was wanting something you'd never even experienced before. Love was falling for the wrong person.

Love was raw and hurting. Love broke things. Love mended things. Love was not something to be easily contained or controlled. And love was not something I would apology for.

Not now.

Not ever.

My voice echoed through the dining room, cutting off any other conversation. "What will be done with the King of Erydia?"

All eyes turned to me.

Darragh's brows rose as he leaned back in his chair, resting his elbows on the wooden arms of it. There was a sort of condescending humor in his voice as he said, "Well, I can't very well lead a country if it already has a king, now can I?"

"What," I said again, "will be done with Kai?"

Britta cleared her throat, pulling the attention from me as she said, "If the king—If Kai—lives past any fight, then he will stand trial for the crimes he's committed against Erydian subjects. He and Caine will both stand trial for the deaths of people like your brothers."

The room was silent.

That's what she thought it was about, I realized. Britta must have known that I cared for Kai, but the anger in my voice...she'd interpreted that as a desire for vengeance. Darragh, however, had not misunderstood me.

He held my gaze as he said, "We do our executions by fire squad here. Quick. Easy. We will do the same with any traitorsleft after this fight, Warwick blood or not."

I swallowed and sat back in my chair. My words were calm, steady, as I said, "So there is no amnesty for him then?"

"Monroe..." Cohen warned.

Darragh's tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek as he considered my question. I watched as his fingertip ran a circle around the edge of his tea cup. "Not for kings or king makers. No."

I nodded. "And how Kai came to be king plays no part in that decision?"

Darragh smiled at me, the gesture patronizing, like I was a wayward child that needed to be put in her place. "Just say what it is you wish to say, Miss Benson."

"Why should Larkin, who is vile and wicked and terrible, who we know poisoned Cohen for years and who we know is responsible for what happened to Uri, get mercy but not Kai?" I looked to Britta. "He's your family too. And—And if you knew him...Britta, if you'd just try to know him—"

"Monroe, please..." Cohen said again.

"I'm not a child!" My palms hit the table with enough force to make the glass cups rattle as I turned to look at my friend. "I'm not—This is—He's your brother, Cohen. He's the only brother you have. You said yourself that you didn't want to see him dead."

Cohen pursed his lips, but he didn't shrink back from my anger. "I said I wasn't sure what I wanted."

"He didn't want to be king." I said. "Caine forced him. You know that. Cohen, you were there. Caine would have had me shot if Kai hadn't taken the throne. He did it for me."

"It hardly matters," Darragh said, his expression turning annoyed as he threaded his fingers together. "He is a king now and until he is taken down, we cannot replace him." I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off. "And before you suggest abdication, let me remind you that he has already amassed a loyal following amongst your temples and some of your wealthier people. We will not start our reign in Erydia with any sort of competition. He has already proved that he can gather a following and start a coup. If Kai Warwick will be anyone to these people, he will be a martyr. It is not up for discussion."

There was a roaring in my ears—the whisper of a million voices all of them screaming to be heard. You hate him. You hate him. You hate him. He wants your throne. He wants you crown. You want him dead.

My hands shook against the table as Nadia's fingers curled around my wrist.

"Stop," she said. The word was a quiet command. When I didn't look at her, only continued to stare at Darragh, she said it again. "Stop."

Heidi stood up from the table, her chair scraping the floor as she leaned forward, blocking my view of the king. "That is enough. Stop it." The words were sharp, but her tone—it was quiet, almost a whisper. I felt that power of her's brush against my mind—not an attack, but a very present threat. "Stop, Monroe," she said again, that nightmare voice quiet, uncharacteristically gentle. Like I was a wild animal she wanted to calm. "Put it out."

It was only then I realized that my hand was glowing—that I'd scalded the table, branded the wood of it with handprint. I snatched my fingers away, pulling out of Nadia's grasp and nearly knocking over my chair as I staggered away from the table.

"I'm sorry." The flames died out as I stumbled back, moving until I was pressed to the wall, until I was as far from them as I could get. My fingers were still warm from the flames as I pressed them to my lips, trying and failing to stifle the sob building in my chest. The words came out as gasps as I said, "I didn't mean—I'm so sorry."

Darragh was still watching me, his expression a challenge. As if he'd been prepared to fight me. Britta, however, had risen from her seat and was looking at me, those eyes—so like Viera's—shining with too much pity.

I am shattered.

They think I am broken.

Because you are, that slithering whisper said to me.

"I'm so sorry. I—It was an accident."

Cohen was looking at me as if he'd seen a ghost. As if my outburst has reminded him of something, someone else. Leighton's story from the beach came back to me in sharp clarity and I thought I might be sick.

This, it was all wrong. I wasn't Viera. I was not that girl. I would not kill these people.

An accident, that's what Leighton called the massacre Viera had caused.

The room was spinning.

Britta took a step towards me. "It's just a table, Monroe. It can be replaced."

Heidi's ability continued to press against me like a dark pressure against my mind. When would she decide to use it? When would she strike? At what point, would I be deemed too much of a threat?

I wondered if any of the girls in Viera's Culling had thought to fight back. Had any of them seen her preparing to explode? Had there been time to react, to rally their power against hers? Had anyone known that Viera was on the edge before she'd fallen headfirst into that darkness?

No.

And that was the difference between Viera and me.

I had goddess-touched friends. I had young women, sisters of a sort, who were ready to stop me if I became a monster. And I'd stop them too. They knew it. Maybe it was what we needed, deep down. Someone living, someone who understood and could drown out the screams of the dead that seemed to always dwell within us.

A breath slipped from my lungs in a sharp exhale and I turned to look at Heidi. She seemed to realize the shift in my demeanor, the fizzling out of that internal fire, because she withdrew her ability from me—the recoiling of that unnerving power was like the caress of cold fingertips down my spine.

I slumped against the wall, deflated. My voice was hoarse, as if I'd been screaming, as I said again, "I'm sorry."

Darragh opened his mouth to say something, but Britta spoke before he could. "It's okay," she said. "It's just a table. I'm more worried about you."

I swallowed and closed my eyes against the onslaught of tears threatening.

Her voice was soft as she said, "Monroe, look at me." I did, turning my eyes to the queen who stood a few feet from me. "It's just a table," she said again. "If this is the worst thing that happens today, then we're very lucky."

A chair scrapped against the floor as someone else stood. Warm hands took hold of my wrists and I opened my eyes to find Nadia standing there. Her expression was stony, her opinion about Kai unchanged, but there was compassion in her eyes—compassion and worry. Her voice held none of its regular nervousness as she said to me, "Come sit again."

I let her pull me back to my seat. Britta remained standing until I was again settled into my chair. For a long moment, everyone remained silent. Then Cohen cleared his throat and turned to a footman standing near the serving table behind him. "I'd love a glass of orange juice. And a cup of tea for Monroe."

And just like that, the tension was dispelled.

I sat back in my chair, not touching what remained of my food, as my friends discussed all the things Cohen had missed. Nadia told him about Dellacov's arrival and he was surprised, nearly to the point of tears, to hear that his friend was alive. I listened, but I didn't engage. I focused my attention on rechaining that power inside of me, fastening mental tether after mental tether, until I felt safer within my bones.

At some point, Britta leaned over to me and whispered, "I want you to know that I am not dismissing your feelings for—for the Erydia king."

"His name is Kai. Kaius Callahan. Or...Kaius Warwick, I guess. He's only about a week younger than Larkin. You probably would have been close, if things...if things had been different. He's a lot like you, I think. He...Kai has had to make difficult choices for the people he cares about. Choices that have cost him greatly."

"Choices that have cost him you?" She said.

"Kai hasn't lost me. He took the throne in an effort to keep from losing me."

She sighed. "I realize that you care greatly for him."

"I love him."

"I know." She glanced down the long table to where Darragh sat. He was reclining in his chair, his hand wrapped around a nearly drained wine glass. Those green eyes were trained on his wife as she said to me, "I know you love him. And I'm not asking you to stop loving him. I'm sure no one expects that."

"But you want me to let him go. You want me to let you kill him."

"I want you to be safe. And I'm not sure you will ever be truly safe while he lives. With Kaius alive, you will always live with the threat of the Culling. If you were to have children with him... Monroe, any son you might have could be claimed as the rightful heir. Even if Kaius denounces his claim to the throne, others might see your children as a threat. As a goddess-touched girl, you were hunted for most of your life. Hunted and dragged into something you didn't want. Would you wish that upon your children? Your son? He would be a target forever. Some would wish to make him king, other would wish to see him dead."

I hated the truth in her words. I hated that I understood and feared that scenario.

Still, I said, "But I don't have any children. Kai and I don't have a son. We don't—We don't need to have children at all. You're trying to reason out his death with hypothetical situations. We might never have children. I don't even know if I want to be a mother...not anymore. Not with everything that's happened. So it's not even a problem. He doesn't have to die. If us having children is the problem then we won't. We can—Kai and I, we can—" I closed my eyes. "Please, Britta."

"Now isn't the time for us to worry over those sorts of things." She touched my hand, covering my fingers with her own. "If it comes to it and there is a decision to be made about Kai's life, I will listen to your arguments. But I cannot guarantee his safety during this war. If he survives and his execution is a discussion, I will make certain your voice is amongst those deciding."

I bit my lip to keep it from quivering as I nodded.

She sighed. "I know it isn't what you want to hear."

I shook my head.

It wasn't what I wanted—I wanted Kai to be here, fighting with me. I wanted my brothers to be alive and safe. I wanted things to be how I'd thought they were three months ago, when I'd believed in what the Culled was doing. But the things I wanted weren't possible. So, I gave the queen next to me my best attempt at a smile.

"Thank you."

***

Life is busy and I'm struggling to find time to read over these chapters so I can upload them. I'm also going to need to rewrite the ending because I've changed some things so be patient with me please ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

If you enjoyed this chapter, leave these emojis 👊😡 in the comments and tell me how bad you wanna fight Darragh. 'Cause I've already got my fists up.