The Queen of All that Lives
Page 91

When I’d plotted with Heinrich, I’d been so sure the cocky SOBs would finally unveil their elusive thirteenth representative.
I stare up at them, no longer in shackles like I was last time, but it doesn’t take handcuffs to be someone’s prisoner. How stupid they must think I am to get myself in this situation.
“You decided to come into the West armed.” Tito is the first to speak, his bulging eyes staring at my firearms.
“And you decided to lock the Queen of the East in a guestroom,” I say. I glance at the several guards that still surround me. “I was brought here under the assumption that we were going to discuss a peace treaty between our two hemispheres as allies would.”
“Yes, we will discuss the treaty momentarily,” Alan says. “Please,” he gestures to the benches that face them, “be seated.”
“I prefer to stand.” My eyes move over the representatives. “What, exactly, is the hold up?”
“We’re waiting for the bloodwork and dental records to come back,” Alan says.
I stare stoically at him.
He leans forward. “You didn’t think we were just going to assume the body you gave us was the king’s, did you?”
I don’t respond.
“Once it all checks out,” Alan continues, “we will begin negotiations.”
Not five minutes later, someone knocks on the double doors at my back.
“Ah,” Alan says, “that should be the medical examiner. Let him in, let him in.”
I can feel Ronaldo’s eyes on me. “Troy,” the traitor-turned-representative says to one of his soldiers, “keep a bead on the queen. If the results don’t match the king, please shoot her where she stands.”
A soldier to my right removes his gun from its holster, the barrel of it pointed at my temple.
My situation settles over my shoulders.
I’m not leaving here alive. And now all I can think about is my monstrous king.
He’s going to wake up and I’m going to be dead, and I can’t guarantee that the world will survive it.
A man in a lab coat strides down the aisle, stopping just a few feet away from me.
“The results?” one of representatives inquires.
The man’s eyes slide to me, then back to the line of men sitting above us.
“It checks out. The body is that of Montes Lazuli.”
Chapter 55
Serenity
It takes a moment to register.
The DNA matches?
Impossible.
Is the man lying? That’s the most obvious possibility.
The soldier to my right lowers his weapon.
“Do you swear before God and men that this is the truth?” Ronaldo asks the medical examiner. I can tell he’s hoping it isn’t.
“I do,” the medical examiner says. “My technicians can verify it. The remains belong to the former king.”
The representatives look almost disappointed.
The remains are the king’s.
“It seems our suspicions were misplaced,” one of them says to me. “Our apologies. Surely you understand …”
The king is … dead?
I give no sign of it, but my fallen heart is falling apart. It fell for a fallen king amongst the ruins of this fallen world. And all of that has now fallen into the hands of these men.
No, I refuse to believe that. There was a mix up of some sort. The king can’t be dead. Otherwise, these men win, and they don’t get to win. That is not how this world ends.
The double doors swing open again.
I swivel to see who’s entered this time.
Styx Garcia strides down the aisle behind us, his eyes devouring me.
I fight the urge to touch my gun.
What’s he doing here?
This is not going according to plan.
“You’re late,” one of the representatives says.
“I couldn’t fall asleep.” He stares at me proprietarily. “Jet lag.”
I watch him with narrowed eyes as he passes me and heads back behind the representatives, taking the final, empty seat.
I don’t breathe.
Styx Garcia is the thirteenth representative.
“You’re surprised,” Styx notes, scooting his chair in.
I don’t bother denying it.
He leans forward. “How do you think I managed to find you in the first place?”
“The First Free Men?” Did the group even exist, or was it just an elaborate ruse meant to throw off the East?
“A real organization that I also run. Convenient when the West needs mercenaries to get a job done without any of the messy political ties.”
Removing me from the Sleeper had been one of those jobs.
“My queen, I will admit, I didn’t think you had it in you to kill the king,” Styx says, changing the subject. “You’re a more dangerous woman than even I gave you credit for.”
I’m going to die. I can sense it.
“We are in a quandary, Serenity,” Ronaldo interjects. “We could just kill you—that would be the easiest.
“But that still leaves the problem of swaying public opinion. It seems they like you.
“Fortunately, Styx here has a solution.”
The representative in question leans back in his chair, his sick eyes on me.
You will be fun to tame.
He doesn’t even have to say what the solution is.
We will be working closely together in the coming days.
My anger feasts on the indignity of their proposal. I’ve already been given once to a man. That will never happen again.