Oredison Palace, Gazda.

I woke to find Queen Viera sitting in a chair near the foot of my bed. She wore a pair of gray trousers, a white button up shirt, and a dark green sweater. Her black hair was pulled into a bun at the top of her head, stray curls cascading against the angles of her cheekbones. I registered that she was reading something, a stack of papers propped on a crossed knee, just as I bolted upright in bed.

A scream tore from my lungs—breaking into a million gasping pieces as my lungs seized in my chest, unable to expand into a full breath from both pain and fear. My mouth and eyes watered in tandem, bile rising swift in my throat as I tried to get my bearings, tried to rationalize what I was seeing. What I was feeling.

Goddess above, the pain.

Sweat coated my body, sending chills racing up my spine. My jaw was locked so tightly it ached, sure if I opened my mouth I would vomit all over myself. The poison was everywhere, unbearable. Hot and searing and terrible.

I pressed a hand to my abdomen and whimpered, my body folding in on itself like I could somehow collapse inward and become invisible. Stars sparked behind my closed eyes and I felt myself tipping over the edge of oblivion. Scorching, fiery agony radiated from my middle like a pulse. Over and over again. Unending.

I blinked through watering eyes, trying to understand. I'd escaped this, hadn't I? I'd run from the prison. Uri had helped me. I'd run and then Kace...Kace had...He'd caught me and he'd turned me over to Viera but...but—

I shook my head and closed my eyes against the truth of it. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no." I'd gotten out. Ambrose had gotten me out. Cohen had thrown the knife and I'd gotten out.

But the pain. That was real. And Viera was real. She was real and looking at me. She was hurting me.

Salt water stung my chapped lips as I whispered, "Please stop."

She stood, the papers abandoned, and moved out of my line of sight. I heard her say something I couldn't understand. Loud, sharp words. I flinched as a door slammed. At the pounding of footsteps heading in my direction.

"I—I didn't—" I blinked trying to think, trying to remember what I was supposed to do. What I was supposed to say.

What had happened? I couldn't remember anything. I didn't know where Cohen or Uri were. Had she hurt them? Did Viera have Tallis and Juno? I think I'd hurt Dellacov. Pieces of memory flashed through my mind—a broken mirror, a knife hidden in a piece of bread, Larkin's boot on my face, a rabbit head necklace. And Kace was somewhere here. Somewhere working for these people. He'd broken my heart.

And Larkin. Did anyone know about Larkin?

Viera moved again, her form a blur of thin, boney movement as she came to rest against the footboard.

"I worked alone," I said, the words coming out shakier then I wanted them to. "No one helped me. It—" I swallowed down a cry of pain and said again, "I sent the Culled all of the information on my own. I didn't have help. I stole maps and the...the schedules. Guard schedules. I...I got them from Dellacov's office after my trial. No one helped me. I was alone."

Viera spoke, but I heard nothing she said. My ears where ringing. My pulse was too much, too insistent. It was like a symphony in my ears. The only sound. Like it wanted to play one last song before it lost the ability to play music at all.

"I was alone," I said again.

I gasped for air over and over again, each breath coming quicker than the last, more shallow. The room was spinning. Heat pressed at my skin, insistent and I balled my hands into the bedsheets. Sparks flared from my knuckles.

I needed to get up. I needed to get up and get out of here. I needed to escape this place now. I needed to run. Get away from her poison before she grew bored and killed me.

I tried to hurry my movements, to make my body cooperate. But I was too slow, too shaky. My legs caught in my blankets, cold hands found my bare knees holding me in place. Eyes I didn't recognize stared into mine.

Pale skinned, blonde. Blue-eyed. She said something and I tried to pull away from her. Tried to fight past her and get off the bed. I needed to get away, needed to get out. Right now. I'd already killed Tessa and I needed to leave before I killed anyone else. Before Viera killed me.

Goddess, I just wanted to go home. I wanted my mother. I wanted Ambrose. I wanted Kace.

I wanted the ache in my chest to go away.

When I didn't stop moving, didn't stop trying to fight past the blonde girl, more people arrived in the room to try to restrain me. More faced I didn't know. And one I did. Nadia.

The sight of her, the look of worry in her brown eyes, had me pausing. One second. And that was a mistake. I felt the jab a stab of pain in my neck before I registered what had caused it. I saw a flash of a syringe in a gloved hand.

I was still looking at Nadia, still watching her eyes as my own fluttered shut and everything went black once more.

***

A sick room.
Oredison Palace, Gazda.

There was a hole in the ceiling of my room.

It was the second thing I'd noticed when I opened my eyes. It was fairly large hole, the edges of it blackened from soot or fire, perhaps both. It was directly above my bed and, if I angled my head in just the right way, I could see up into the sitting room that had once been above the small closet that was now my sick room.

I had exactly thirty seconds to make this discovery before someone realized that I was awake. That someone being the Queen of Erydia. She cleared her throat twice and though I could feel her eyes on me, I didn't look at her yet. I knew she was there.

She'd been the first thing I'd noticed. Not Viera, but Britta.

On her third cleared throat, I whispered, "Need something to drink, Your Highness?"

There was a shuffle of papers as she said, "You've been nearly dead for over a month and those are your first words?"

My own throat ached with dryness and disuse as I said, "Better nearly dead than actually dead, I guess."

"Are you proud of you handiwork, Monroe?"

I glanced at her then. "My handiwork?"

She nodded to the hole above my head. "You were sent to take over the palace and regain the city, not destroy it."

"Semantics," I said weakly.

I pushed myself up slowly, assessing how I felt as I did. There was a mild soreness in my muscles and an ache in my abdomen, but aside from that I felt okay. Shaky and in need of food and a bath, but alive and doing far better than I'd believed I would.

I glanced at Britta, who still watched me unabashedly, as I pushed the blanket down my legs. I wore only plain under things and a thin cotton night dress, the fabric soft and breathable.

I pulled the dress up enough that I could get a look at my outer thigh where I knew one of the bullets had hit. A faint scar was there, but aside from that it was completely healed. I pulled the dress up higher examining my torso. The wound on my side where the bullet had entered and exited was completely gone, fully healed as if it had never happened.

The wound in my stomach was the worst by far. It was still red and swollen, the skin clearly having been hastily stitched together before Nadia started even trying to heal me. The jagged lines of those stitches could be seen in the uneven bumps of my skin, just above my belly button. The pink, jagged flesh was healed there, Nadia having obviously done what she does best, but it wasn't a pretty thing to behold. I ran my fingertip along the uneven patch of skin and sighed.

I let the dress drop. Scarring hardly mattered, I told myself. There were bigger things to worry about. I had a lot of questions and not a lot of courage to ask them.

"You said it's been over a month?" I asked. "How? How has so much time passed?"

Britta's voice was quiet as she said, "You were very sick. I don't think you realize how bad it was. Three gun shot wounds and that isn't even talking about whatever it is you did with you abilities...and you did something large. Something that wrecked a good deal of the palace and left you in a very vulnerable state. There were a few days at the beginning when it seemed like it was only Nadia keeping you here. Your body was failing and she was..." Britta crossed her legs and set a stack of papers on a small table next to her. "She is a good friend to play nursemaid as she does."

There was a creak of footsteps against wood and Nadia appeared at the doorway to my room as if summoned. She smiled widely at me. "I thought I heard your voice." She slid past Britta's chair and into the cramped room. "How do you feel?" She perched on the edge of the little bed and took my hand in hers, her healing warmth spreading up my arm at her touch. "I felt a difference in you this morning. I thought you might wake up soon. You seemed a little more..." She shrugged. "I don't know, present."

"Thank you for helping me."

"I told Monroe that she'd lucky to have you," Britta said.

Nadia chewed her bottom lip and pulled her legs up onto the bed so she was sitting against the headboard next to me. "I—You all act like you wouldn't have done the same thing. It's what friends do. I'm sure it's what anyone in our shoes would have done." She gestured to me. "Monroe was bleeding out. As long as I'm able to, I'm going to help. What was I supposed to do? Watch her die?"

Britta stared for a long moment, her expression unreadable.

Finally she said, "I think you should realize, after all that you have been through and all that you have faced, that not everyone would do what you've done for one another. There have been centuries, history books, filled with girls that did not do what you have done for each other. By acting as if your difference in behavior doesn't exist, you're devaluing your friendship and, I think, not being honest about your true character. And since it's your character and your humanity that will soon be under evaluation, that isn't something you should undersell. Especially to my husband." It fell silent, then, Britta said, "Cohen told me that Caine is in the prisons."

My brows rose at this. "He isn't dead?"

Nadia shook her head. "Nearly there. You killed pretty much everyone in the ballroom and you burned Caine almost to a crisp, but he's a nasty piece of work and like most cockroaches, he just won't die."

"According to my brother, he's under close watch," Britta said, "Though I don't believe he's in any shape to go any where."

Nadia's lips twitched and she glanced at me. "Heidi's been 'keeping watch' and I've been keeping him just alive enough. Team work really does make the dream work."

A small laugh escaped me that soon turned into a fit of dry coughing. Nadia reached for a glass of water on a table nearby and handed it to me. As I drank, I tried to decide if I wanted to ask about Kai with Britta there or not. In truth, Britta and Nadia weren't really the two best people to talk to about him with. Ideally, I'd rather ask Cohen. If things were bad, I'd rather get that news from him.

The fear of having my heart broken kept my mouth shut. I'd ask later. Or maybe it would come up on its own. Surely, they would tell me. Nadia knew that I would want to know about him. That I would care.

"Cohen says his condition is tenuous," Britta was saying. "He didn't believe Caine would be capable of standing trial when the time comes."

"Is that a requirement?" I asked, surprised. The words came out a little sharper than I intended.

Britta's brow rose, her own tone turning pointed. "I beg your pardon?"

I shrugged, wincing slightly as the motion pulled at some inner healing injury. "Seems to me that standing trial would be a privilege he doesn't deserve."

Britta stared at me for a long time and withstood it, unwilling to blink first. Finally she said, "Seems to me that you think you have some say in what happens to Mirren Caine," she said, her head tilting to one side. "I assure you, you don't."

"Interesting." I leaned forward and lowered my voice, careful that she could hear each word as I said, "Maybe you can find a different healer who can save him then. I'd suggest looking for someone who is willing to go up against Heidi if she decides she wants to push him just a little too far. I would imagine, and this is just my guess, that if it's been over a month since everything happened, she's probably getting a little antsy. Patience isn't a virtue she's mastered just yet."

"Are you threatening me, Miss Benson?"

"No, Your Majesty. I wouldn't dream of it," I said, leaning back against the pillows. "I'm just saying that my forces may be otherwise occupied. Nadia is here helping me. She couldn't possibly make it to the prison in time to try to help you with Caine. If you need help understanding what I mean: I think it's comparable to how you couldn't send any of your forces to Vayelle when my brothers called for help."

Britta folded her hands in her lap. The Queen sighed. "Cohen said you would be angry."

I laughed quietly to myself and leaned my head back, staring up at the hole above my head. "Cohen's sure done a lot of talking."

"We're all on the same side," Nadia chided. "Or we were. We want Caine to pay for what he's done. We want justice. And peace. We want a better Erydia."

"Tell me," I said, not looking at either of them. "It's been over a month since we attacked and took back the palace. Which means it's been months, plural, since my brothers were executed. Has there been any news? Have we sent any other scouts? Have we tried to get answers out of Caine? I was told that there were bodies and identification found but as far as I know, no corpses have ever arrived. I have no proof they're dead. No closure. Am I the only one who cares about the people who died there? It wasn't just my family. We all had friends there."

Britta leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees, the motion drawing my attention back to her. "We cannot fix what has already happened. We can only move forward."

My throat was tight as I asked, "What else will be taken from me, Britta?" I tugged at a loose thread in the handmade quilt covering my legs. "Even if Caine can't stand trial, you'll make Kai do it. If he's even still alive. If he is, you'll make a show of it. You'll make a show of his trial and you'll shame him. Shame him and execute him for something you know he regrets. Something you know he was partially forced into. As someone who grew up with a toxic parent, I thought you of all people might be a little more understanding of the choices he's made."

"You act like I find enjoyment—"

"I don't know what you find in this. Truly," I said.

"I'm not my mother, Monroe."

"That remains to be seen."

***

After Britta left Nadia and I sat together on my bed in silence, the two of us caught up in our own thoughts. I don't know how long we sat like that, side by side, neither of us speaking, but at some point, Nadia fell asleep against my shoulder. Her healing warmth continued to flood into my system even as she slept, the waves of it ebbing and flowing like waves on a beach. It was feather light, not concentrated to do very much, but a comforting sort of presence—like a mother's hand against your fevered brow.

I was almost lulled to sleep by it when Heidi arrived at the door to my sickroom, she was breathless, her green eyes wide. She walked around to the opposite side of the bed from where Nadia was sitting. She glanced to our sleeping friend and then to me.

Her voice came out breathy as she said, "I thought you were really actually dead, you bitch." And then she was hugging me, her arms flung around my neck. I hugged her back, pulling her tight to me until she was sitting on the edge of the bed, still clinging to me.

I spoke against her hair. "I'm so glad you're okay. I was worried about you."

Her words were hiccuping sobs as she said, "We were ambushed before we could even get into the garden fully. Someone must have warned Darragh of what was going on and he...He sent soldiers to stop us from helping you. He wanted his men to bomb the room. Kill all of you. Caine, you, Nadia, Cohen, Kai. We stopped them, but it was...it wasn't easy and there wasn't enough of us left to help you afterward."

I closed my eyes against that new information. It didn't surprise me. Darragh was a strategist and it made sense in a wicked, terrible way. We'd pretty much all been in one room, all except Heidi. It was a good move. Kill almost all the heirs in one blow, then execute Heidi. After that, he and Britta could rule unopposed.

They'd be the rightful rulers and no one would argue.

I ran my hand through her hair, shushing her sobs as I whispered, "We made it out. We're fine. You, me, Nadia, Cohen. We're all okay."

"I heard you screaming and the gunshots and—Oh my goddess, Monroe, he shot you. Three times, he shot you. I didn't know what was happening. I was fighting and killing people and trying to get into that room and I couldn't get there. I hate him. I hate Darragh for doing that to my friends and I hate Caine for hurting all of you. I've never wanted to kill anyone so badly in my life. I was so damn scared. I thought you were dead. You stopped screaming and I thought..." She shook her head, her tears wet against my neck. "Then there was so much fire and the palace was shaking. And then Kai came out of the ballroom and he was holding you and you were were blue and covered in blood and he was yelling for help. For anyone. And you weren't breathing right. And...you don't understand, Monroe. You don't understand. You didn't see what I saw."

"I'm okay," I whispered. "We're all okay, Heidi."

"It was a nightmare and I thought I would never get out of it."

My fingers stilled in her hair. "We're safe now."

She nodded against my neck. "I'm so glad you're awake."

"Me too."

She pulled away from me, her green eyes bright with drying tears. "You should you know, he asks about you every single time I go down to the prisons. Every time he asks. It doesn't matter if it's been hours or days. He asks how you are. If your breathing has improved, if Nadia thinks the internal bleeding has stopped, if you're fully awake yet, if you're stirring in your sleep at all, if we're turning you in the bed, if we're getting you to eat at all, if you're being bathed, if you're restless, if your wounds have closed up, if you're dehydrated, he wants to know if people are sitting with you all the time, if we're reading to you, if there is music we can play for you. He's always asking. Always thinking about you."

My throat burned as I asked, "Do you tell him?"

Silence hung between us for a long moment. There had been something in her voice as she'd said the words that made me nervous. It made me regret even asking. I knew my friend. She wasn't a romantic by any means and there was no love lost between her and Kai. Heidi didn't like him. They weren't friends and she had no loyalties to him. I knew what the answer likely was and it hurt me, even as I hoped that I was wrong.

Heidi swallowed and said gently, "Nadia and Cohen were already out of the ballroom and trying to get away from the worst of the fire and the damage when Kai came out with you in his arms. He was losing his shit. He made a beeline for Nadia as soon as he saw her. By the time I got there, they'd already laid you on the floor and Nadia and a few of the other healers were trying to figure out what was going on. They couldn't get a good pulse and Kai was...he was..." Heidi chewed her bottom lip and shoved hair from her face. "I thought he was playing you. I did. This whole time, I thought this was all some scheme. I thought he was a narcissist or something. When I looked at him, I thought he needed you for something. I thought you were a pawn to him. I didn't understand what your deal was, but then I—" She closed her eyes and said, "Monroe you weren't breathing. You were blue and completely still. They were preparing to do chest compressions on you when Darragh's soldiers arrived to take Kai away and I saw it. I saw them put handcuffs on him and start dragging him away from you while you lay on the floor dying, possibly already dead, and I saw his worst nightmare turn to a reality. I saw it."

Silence hung between us. Solid and unbreakable.

Heidi held my gaze.

"So, yes, I tell him. Every time he asks, I tell him. Even if there was no change, I told him. Because he ought to know. Because he was begging them to let him stay just a few moments longer, just until you were breathing again, and they wouldn't let him. He wanted to hold your hand. To kiss you one last time and they wouldn't let him. So I answer whatever questions he asks. Because he hasn't asked once about his own trial or wellbeing. He hasn't seen a healer or asked for anything. And I swear to the goddess, I'm done with boys and I think romance is mostly dead. But maybe not with the two of you, okay? Because he cares. He loves you. He does. And I can't wait to go down to the prison after this so I can tell him that you're awake. He'll be so damn happy."

🔥🔥🔥

Hello! Sorry to miss yesterday and post today instead! We have two different sessions of new student orientation at the university where I work so Tuesday and Thursday are actually the worst two days of the week this week! 🙈 But I got this chapter up! And I added a little from next chapter to this chapter to make it a longer one for you, just on the off chance that I'm late posting again tomorrow. I'm hoping to have tomorrow update up on time, but we shall see. 😅

If you enjoyed this chapter, leave this 🥹 or 🥺emoji in the comments and tell me how you feel about the book right now. Gimme your feelings, thoughts, emotions.

Also, I love you like a lot and I'm happy you're here. Happy Wednesday.