The Queen of All that Lives
Page 71
Even that small reminder of the king causes so many emotions to flood through me—grief, hope, vengeance.
Our vehicle makes its way towards the domed building. I’m not surprised when we pull up in front of the behemoth.
“This is where I’ll be meeting the representatives?” I ask, looking up at it.
“We call it the Iudicium in the West,” Collins says. He steps out of the car then offers a hand to help me out as well, cuffed as I am. “And yes, it is.”
I ignore his hand, though as soon as I exit the car, he grips my upper arm anyway. A series of other guards surround us, keeping the crowd at bay.
I’ve done this before—been paraded through enemy territory. The Queen of the East. What an acquisition.
I spare another glance at the sprawling building before me.
So this is where the representatives work. Corrupt leaders love their palaces.
I only have a moment to take it in before I’m shuffled forward, away from the eyes of the crowd and inside the building.
The doors close behind us, the sound echoing through the chambers I now stand in. Despite the rich furnishings and ample marble that adorns the interior, the place is cold and dark.
I’m led to a set of double doors on the other end of the expansive entry hall. Two guards open them, and then I’m staring into a cavernous, circular room filled with twelve men.
The representatives.
Twelve of them. Twelve. I bet this is more than the king has ever heard of gathered in a single room. The only representative missing is the mysterious thirteenth one.
The rest of them sit at the far end, behind a wooden bench, and each wears a different expression when they catch sight of my face. Most appear bored or impassive. A couple seem curious. The rest of them look at me like I killed their sons.
I might’ve.
“Come in,” one says.
Collins forces me forward, and I walk down the aisle, past rows and rows of empty seats. I’ve only stopped once I stand in front of the representatives.
I recognize each from their photo. Jeremy, the one who established the work camps; Alan, who’s likely responsible for kidnapping the regional leaders; Gregory, who legalized human trafficking. On and on I name them, along with the atrocities they’ve sanctioned.
Some of these men are Montes’s former advisors, men who plotted my death. Men that were involved in the death of my unborn child.
A quiet calmness settles over me. This is the place I go to when I kill.
They should never have met with me. They’re now all marked. I won’t let them live, not so long as I have life in me.
“Serenity Freeman Lazuli, Queen of the East,” begins Alan. “Welcome to the West. I hear it was your home once.”
“Once,” I agree.
A drawn out silence follows that, until someone clears their throat.
“In the hundred years you’ve been gone, you have become quite a legend,” Alan says.
My eyes flick to Montes’s old advisors. Their frowns deepen.
The feeling’s mutual.
“So I’ve heard,” I say.
“Oh no,” Alan says from where he’s perched above me, “you’ve more than just heard. You’ve incited revolution. You are the world’s rallying cry.
“And you’ve acted. Giving speeches, fighting the enemy,” he says this with a wry twist of his lips. “It’s all quite impressive.
“We talked to a certain paramilitary leader—Styx Garcia. He says you wanted to speak with us. So here you are.”
I hide my surprise. He helped set this up?
The others watch me carefully.
“That was before you bombed a peaceful gathering.”
This earns me a grim smile from Alan. “I would imagine a true rebel queen would be more eager, not less, to speak with the men that threaten her people.” He says the last two words with disdain, like I’m a charlatan for supporting the citizens of the East rather than the West.
“And maybe this rebel queen feels she is beyond the point of civilly discussing her people,” I shoot back.
“You don’t have to be our prisoner,” Jeremy interrupts. “The war has gone on for too long.”
Begrudgingly, I incline my head. “It has,” I agree. On this subject we have common ground. Ground I wish to exploit.
My eyes cut to one of the long, narrow windows that line the walls high above us. Through it I can see a sliver of the wall that encircles the city.
I feel the responsibility of this world, of my title, settle onto my shoulders. Today, I will be joining in the machinations of men.
It’s time to finally set my terrible plan into motion.
The representatives watch me shrewdly.
“I know why I’m here,” I say.
Diplomacy is a treacherous thing when neither party trusts the other but both want to work together. They need me, I need them, and we’re all known for our ruthlessness.
“You want the war to end,” I continue. “You want Montes dead, and you want me to be the one that kills him.”
Chapter 42
Serenity
“What makes you think Montes is dead?” Alan says.
“Don’t take me for a fool,” I say. “We would be having a different conversation if that were the case.” One where they made demands rather than requests of me.
No one speaks, but in that silence I get affirmation that I am correct.
He lives. My husband lives.
Which means he will live long enough to see my deception.
Our vehicle makes its way towards the domed building. I’m not surprised when we pull up in front of the behemoth.
“This is where I’ll be meeting the representatives?” I ask, looking up at it.
“We call it the Iudicium in the West,” Collins says. He steps out of the car then offers a hand to help me out as well, cuffed as I am. “And yes, it is.”
I ignore his hand, though as soon as I exit the car, he grips my upper arm anyway. A series of other guards surround us, keeping the crowd at bay.
I’ve done this before—been paraded through enemy territory. The Queen of the East. What an acquisition.
I spare another glance at the sprawling building before me.
So this is where the representatives work. Corrupt leaders love their palaces.
I only have a moment to take it in before I’m shuffled forward, away from the eyes of the crowd and inside the building.
The doors close behind us, the sound echoing through the chambers I now stand in. Despite the rich furnishings and ample marble that adorns the interior, the place is cold and dark.
I’m led to a set of double doors on the other end of the expansive entry hall. Two guards open them, and then I’m staring into a cavernous, circular room filled with twelve men.
The representatives.
Twelve of them. Twelve. I bet this is more than the king has ever heard of gathered in a single room. The only representative missing is the mysterious thirteenth one.
The rest of them sit at the far end, behind a wooden bench, and each wears a different expression when they catch sight of my face. Most appear bored or impassive. A couple seem curious. The rest of them look at me like I killed their sons.
I might’ve.
“Come in,” one says.
Collins forces me forward, and I walk down the aisle, past rows and rows of empty seats. I’ve only stopped once I stand in front of the representatives.
I recognize each from their photo. Jeremy, the one who established the work camps; Alan, who’s likely responsible for kidnapping the regional leaders; Gregory, who legalized human trafficking. On and on I name them, along with the atrocities they’ve sanctioned.
Some of these men are Montes’s former advisors, men who plotted my death. Men that were involved in the death of my unborn child.
A quiet calmness settles over me. This is the place I go to when I kill.
They should never have met with me. They’re now all marked. I won’t let them live, not so long as I have life in me.
“Serenity Freeman Lazuli, Queen of the East,” begins Alan. “Welcome to the West. I hear it was your home once.”
“Once,” I agree.
A drawn out silence follows that, until someone clears their throat.
“In the hundred years you’ve been gone, you have become quite a legend,” Alan says.
My eyes flick to Montes’s old advisors. Their frowns deepen.
The feeling’s mutual.
“So I’ve heard,” I say.
“Oh no,” Alan says from where he’s perched above me, “you’ve more than just heard. You’ve incited revolution. You are the world’s rallying cry.
“And you’ve acted. Giving speeches, fighting the enemy,” he says this with a wry twist of his lips. “It’s all quite impressive.
“We talked to a certain paramilitary leader—Styx Garcia. He says you wanted to speak with us. So here you are.”
I hide my surprise. He helped set this up?
The others watch me carefully.
“That was before you bombed a peaceful gathering.”
This earns me a grim smile from Alan. “I would imagine a true rebel queen would be more eager, not less, to speak with the men that threaten her people.” He says the last two words with disdain, like I’m a charlatan for supporting the citizens of the East rather than the West.
“And maybe this rebel queen feels she is beyond the point of civilly discussing her people,” I shoot back.
“You don’t have to be our prisoner,” Jeremy interrupts. “The war has gone on for too long.”
Begrudgingly, I incline my head. “It has,” I agree. On this subject we have common ground. Ground I wish to exploit.
My eyes cut to one of the long, narrow windows that line the walls high above us. Through it I can see a sliver of the wall that encircles the city.
I feel the responsibility of this world, of my title, settle onto my shoulders. Today, I will be joining in the machinations of men.
It’s time to finally set my terrible plan into motion.
The representatives watch me shrewdly.
“I know why I’m here,” I say.
Diplomacy is a treacherous thing when neither party trusts the other but both want to work together. They need me, I need them, and we’re all known for our ruthlessness.
“You want the war to end,” I continue. “You want Montes dead, and you want me to be the one that kills him.”
Chapter 42
Serenity
“What makes you think Montes is dead?” Alan says.
“Don’t take me for a fool,” I say. “We would be having a different conversation if that were the case.” One where they made demands rather than requests of me.
No one speaks, but in that silence I get affirmation that I am correct.
He lives. My husband lives.
Which means he will live long enough to see my deception.
