Red Queen
Page 102

The video screen in my new bedroom is about as useful as a bottomless boat, playing the king’s speech from last night in a nauseating loop. By now I can recite the whole thing word for word, but I can’t stop watching. Because I know who comes next.
My face looks strange on the screen, too pale, too cold. I still can’t believe I kept a straight face while I read the words. When I step up to the podium, taking the king’s place, I don’t even tremble.
“I was raised by Reds. I believed I was one. And I saw firsthand the grace of His Majesty the king, the just ways of our Silver lords, and the great privilege they gave us. The right to work, to serve our country, to live and live well.” On-screen, Maven puts a hand on my arm. He nods along with my speech. “Now I know I am Silver born, a lady of House Titanos, and one day, a princess of Norta. My eyes have been opened. A world I never dreamed of exists, and it is invincible. It is merciful. And these terrorists, murderers of the most evil kind, are trying to destroy the bedrock of our nation. This we cannot allow.”
In the safety of my room, I heave a ragged breath. The worst is coming.
“In his wisdom, King Tiberias has drafted the Measures, to root out this sickness of rebellion, and to protect the good citizens of our nation. They are as follows: As of today, a sunset curfew is in effect for all Reds. Security will be doubled in every Red village and town. New outposts will be built on the roads, and manned to full capacity. All Red crimes, including breaking of the curfew, will be punished by execution. And”—at this, my voice falters for the first time—“conscription age has been lowered, to the age of fifteen. Anyone who provides information leading to capture of Scarlet Guard operatives or the prevention of Scarlet Guard actions will be awarded conscription waivers, releasing up to five members of the same family from military service.”
It’s a brilliant, and terrible, maneuver. Reds will tear each other apart for such waivers.
“The Measures are to be upheld at all costs until the disease known as the Scarlet Guard is destroyed.” I stare into my own eyes on-screen, watching as I stop myself from choking on my speech. My eyes are wide, hoping my people know what I’m trying to say. Words can lie. “Long live the king.”
Anger ripples through me, and the screen shorts out, replacing my face with a black void. But I can still see each new order in my mind. More officers patrolling, more bodies hanging from the gallows, and more mothers weeping for their stolen children. We killed a dozen of theirs and they kill a thousand of ours. Part of me knows these blows will drive some Reds to the side of the Guard, but many more will side with the king. For their lives, for their children’s lives, they will give up what little freedom they had left.
I thought being their puppet would be easy compared to everything else. I was so wrong. But I cannot let them break me, not now. Not even when my own doom lingers on the horizon. I must do everything I can until my blood is matched and my game is over. Until they drag me away and kill me.
At least my window faces the river, looking south toward the sea. When I stare at the water, I can ignore my fading future. My eyes trail from the swiftly moving current to the dark smudge on the horizon. While the rest of the sky is clear, dark clouds hover in the south, never moving from the forbidden land at the coast. The Ruined City. Radiation and fire consumed the city once and never let it go. Now it’s nothing but a black ghost sitting just out of reach, a relic of the old world.
Part of me wishes Lucas would rap on my door and hurry me along to a new schedule, but he has not returned yet. I suppose he’s better off without me risking his life.
Julian’s gift sits against the wall, a firm reminder of another friend lost. It’s a piece of the giant map, framed and gleaming behind glass. When I pick it up, something thumps to the ground, falling from the back of the frame.
I knew it.
My heart races, beating wildly as I drop to my knees, hoping to find some secret note from Julian. But instead, there’s nothing more than a book.
Despite my disappointment, I can’t help smiling. Of course Julian would leave me another story, another collection of words to comfort me where he no longer can.
I flip open the cover, expecting to find some new histories, but instead, handwritten words stare up at me from the title page. Red and silver. It’s in Julian’s unmistakable swirling scrawl.
The sight line of my room’s cameras beat into my back, reminding me I am not alone. Julian knew that too. Brilliant Julian.
The book looks normal, a dull study of relics found in Delphie, but hidden among the words, in the same type, is a secret worth telling. It takes me many minutes to find every added line and I’m quietly grateful I woke up so early. Finally I have them all, and I seem to have forgotten how to breathe.