King's Cage
Page 58
It twists my insides to realize how rigged the game has been, for everyone, for so very long.
“Stupid people are easier to control. Why do you think my mother kept my father around for so long? He was a drunk, a heartbroken imbecile, blind to so much, content to keep things as they were. Easy to control, easy to use. A person to manipulate—and blame.”
Furious, I swipe at my face, trying to hide any evidence of my emotions. Maven watches anyway, his expression softening a little. As if that helps anything. “So what are two Silver kingdoms going to do once they stop throwing Reds at each other?” I hiss. “Start marching us off cliffs at random? Pull names out of a lottery?”
He rests a hand on his chin. “I can’t believe Cal never told you any of this. Although he wasn’t really jumping at the opportunity to change things, not even for you. Probably didn’t think you could handle it—or, well, perhaps he didn’t think you would understand it—”
My fist slams against the bulletproof glass of the window. It smarts instantly, and I bury myself in the pain, using it to keep any thoughts of Cal at bay. I can’t let myself fall into that drowning spiral, even if it’s true. Even though Cal was once willing to uphold these horrors. “Don’t,” I snap at him. “Don’t.”
“I’m not a fool, little lightning girl.” His snarl matches my own. “If you’re going to play in my head, I’m going to play in yours. It’s what we’re good at.”
I was cold before, but now the heat of his anger threatens to consume me. Feeling sick, I press my cheek against the cool glass of the window and shut my eyes. “Don’t compare me to you. We’re not the same.”
“People like us,” he scoffs. “We lie to everyone. Especially ourselves.”
I want to punch the window again. Instead, I tuck my fists tight under my arms, trying to make myself smaller. Maybe I’ll just shrink away and disappear. With every breath, I regret getting into his transport more and more.
“You’ll never get the Lakelands to agree,” I say.
I hear him laugh deep in his throat. “Funny. They already have.”
My eyes fly open in shock.
He nods, looking pleased with himself. “Governor Welle facilitated a meeting with one of their top ministers. He has contacts in the north and is easily . . . persuaded.”
“Probably because you hold his daughter hostage.”
“Probably,” he agrees.
So that’s what this tour is. A solidifying of power, the creation of a new alliance. A twisting of arms and bending of wills by whatever means necessary. I knew it was for something other than spectacle, but this—this I could not fathom. I think of Farley, the Colonel, their Lakelander soldiers pledged to the Scarlet Guard. What will a truce do to them?
“Don’t look so glum. I’m ending a war millions died for, and bringing peace to a country that no longer knows the meaning of the word. You should be proud of me. You should be thanking me. Don’t—” He puts his hands up in defense as I spit at him.
“You really need to figure out another way to express your anger,” he grumbles, wiping at his uniform.
“Take off my manacles and I’ll show you one.”
He barks out a laugh. “Yes, of course, Miss Barrow.”
Outside, the sky darkens and the world fades to gray. I put a palm to the glass, willing myself to fall through. Nothing happens. I’m still here.
“I must say, I am surprised,” he adds. “We have far more in common with the Lakelands than you think.”
My jaw tightens and I speak through gritted teeth. “You both use Reds as slaves and cannon fodder.”
He sits up so quickly I flinch. “We both want to end the Scarlet Guard.”
It’s almost comical. Every step I take explodes in my face. I tried to save Kilorn from conscription and maimed my sister instead. I became a maid to help my family and within hours became a prisoner. I believed Maven’s words and Maven’s false heart. I trusted Cal to choose me. I raided a prison to free people and ended up clutching Shade’s corpse. I sacrificed myself to save the people I love. I gave Maven a weapon. And now, try as I might to thwart his reign from the inside, I think I’ve done something much worse. What will a united Lakelands and Norta look like?
Despite what Maven said, we head to Rocasta anyway, barreling on after more coronation stops throughout the Westlakes region. We won’t stay. Either there isn’t a stately home suitable enough for Maven’s court, or he simply doesn’t want to be there. I can see why. Rocasta is a military city. Not a fortress like Corvium, but built to support the army all the same. An ugly thing, formed for function. The city sits several miles off the banks of Lake Tarion, and the Iron Road runs through its heart. It bisects Rocasta like a blade, separating the wealthier Silver sector of the city from the Red. With no walls to speak of, the city creeps up on me. The shadows of houses and buildings appear out of the white blindness of a blizzard. Silver storms work to keep our road clear, battling the weather to keep the king on schedule. They stand on top of our transports, directing the snow and ice around us with even motions. Without them, the weather would be much worse, a hammer of brutal winter.
Still, snow blasts against the windows of my transport, obscuring the world outside. There are no more windweavers from the talented House Laris. They’re either dead or gone, having fled with the other rebelling houses, and the Silvers remaining can only do so much.
“Stupid people are easier to control. Why do you think my mother kept my father around for so long? He was a drunk, a heartbroken imbecile, blind to so much, content to keep things as they were. Easy to control, easy to use. A person to manipulate—and blame.”
Furious, I swipe at my face, trying to hide any evidence of my emotions. Maven watches anyway, his expression softening a little. As if that helps anything. “So what are two Silver kingdoms going to do once they stop throwing Reds at each other?” I hiss. “Start marching us off cliffs at random? Pull names out of a lottery?”
He rests a hand on his chin. “I can’t believe Cal never told you any of this. Although he wasn’t really jumping at the opportunity to change things, not even for you. Probably didn’t think you could handle it—or, well, perhaps he didn’t think you would understand it—”
My fist slams against the bulletproof glass of the window. It smarts instantly, and I bury myself in the pain, using it to keep any thoughts of Cal at bay. I can’t let myself fall into that drowning spiral, even if it’s true. Even though Cal was once willing to uphold these horrors. “Don’t,” I snap at him. “Don’t.”
“I’m not a fool, little lightning girl.” His snarl matches my own. “If you’re going to play in my head, I’m going to play in yours. It’s what we’re good at.”
I was cold before, but now the heat of his anger threatens to consume me. Feeling sick, I press my cheek against the cool glass of the window and shut my eyes. “Don’t compare me to you. We’re not the same.”
“People like us,” he scoffs. “We lie to everyone. Especially ourselves.”
I want to punch the window again. Instead, I tuck my fists tight under my arms, trying to make myself smaller. Maybe I’ll just shrink away and disappear. With every breath, I regret getting into his transport more and more.
“You’ll never get the Lakelands to agree,” I say.
I hear him laugh deep in his throat. “Funny. They already have.”
My eyes fly open in shock.
He nods, looking pleased with himself. “Governor Welle facilitated a meeting with one of their top ministers. He has contacts in the north and is easily . . . persuaded.”
“Probably because you hold his daughter hostage.”
“Probably,” he agrees.
So that’s what this tour is. A solidifying of power, the creation of a new alliance. A twisting of arms and bending of wills by whatever means necessary. I knew it was for something other than spectacle, but this—this I could not fathom. I think of Farley, the Colonel, their Lakelander soldiers pledged to the Scarlet Guard. What will a truce do to them?
“Don’t look so glum. I’m ending a war millions died for, and bringing peace to a country that no longer knows the meaning of the word. You should be proud of me. You should be thanking me. Don’t—” He puts his hands up in defense as I spit at him.
“You really need to figure out another way to express your anger,” he grumbles, wiping at his uniform.
“Take off my manacles and I’ll show you one.”
He barks out a laugh. “Yes, of course, Miss Barrow.”
Outside, the sky darkens and the world fades to gray. I put a palm to the glass, willing myself to fall through. Nothing happens. I’m still here.
“I must say, I am surprised,” he adds. “We have far more in common with the Lakelands than you think.”
My jaw tightens and I speak through gritted teeth. “You both use Reds as slaves and cannon fodder.”
He sits up so quickly I flinch. “We both want to end the Scarlet Guard.”
It’s almost comical. Every step I take explodes in my face. I tried to save Kilorn from conscription and maimed my sister instead. I became a maid to help my family and within hours became a prisoner. I believed Maven’s words and Maven’s false heart. I trusted Cal to choose me. I raided a prison to free people and ended up clutching Shade’s corpse. I sacrificed myself to save the people I love. I gave Maven a weapon. And now, try as I might to thwart his reign from the inside, I think I’ve done something much worse. What will a united Lakelands and Norta look like?
Despite what Maven said, we head to Rocasta anyway, barreling on after more coronation stops throughout the Westlakes region. We won’t stay. Either there isn’t a stately home suitable enough for Maven’s court, or he simply doesn’t want to be there. I can see why. Rocasta is a military city. Not a fortress like Corvium, but built to support the army all the same. An ugly thing, formed for function. The city sits several miles off the banks of Lake Tarion, and the Iron Road runs through its heart. It bisects Rocasta like a blade, separating the wealthier Silver sector of the city from the Red. With no walls to speak of, the city creeps up on me. The shadows of houses and buildings appear out of the white blindness of a blizzard. Silver storms work to keep our road clear, battling the weather to keep the king on schedule. They stand on top of our transports, directing the snow and ice around us with even motions. Without them, the weather would be much worse, a hammer of brutal winter.
Still, snow blasts against the windows of my transport, obscuring the world outside. There are no more windweavers from the talented House Laris. They’re either dead or gone, having fled with the other rebelling houses, and the Silvers remaining can only do so much.
