The Queen of Traitors
Page 64

My second thought is that this is a trap, another intricately rigged situation designed to lead to my death. My heart palpitates at the thrill of it all. Bring the carnage, bring the destruction. I could use a good showdown at the moment.
I no longer have my gun, but half the objects in here could be weaponized.
I’m considering all the ways one can bludgeon someone to death with the bronze figurine resting on a nearby stand when I hear a familiar noise. The rhythmic stomping comes from beyond the windows.
Walking over to them, I peer outside. Two rows of soldiers cross the palace gardens, heading towards the east wing. I back away from the windows.
Something feels wrong about this situation. It shouldn’t be unfolding the way it is.
I hear an echo of the footfalls in the hallway heading straight for this room. Understanding sets in. This is a trap, and it’s one my enemy did set.
I just forgot for a while who my enemy really was.
I can taste bile at the back of my throat, and I realize I’m grimacing. My throat works and my eyes sting.
Oh God, I’m actually hurt by this.
Like this is anything compared to the atrocities the king’s already committed. It was only a matter of time before he turned on me like he had everyone else close to him.
Still, when the door opens and Montes walks in, I have to physically swallow down the emotion rising up the back of my throat. Behind him I can see two armed guards, but I know there’s more that I can’t see.
I watch him warily.
“Serenity,” he says, and the monster’s eyes are actually sad, “don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what? Like you betrayed me? You never did.” No, the blame lies with my own weak heart.
“I can’t let you die,” he says, and his voice breaks. The man is begging me to understand. “Not now when you’re so close to death and my enemies are more aggressive than ever.”
My muscles tense. Here I’d thought he was coming to dispose of me. That’s usually what happens when someone betrays you. This betrayal, I realize, is much deeper and more intrinsic than I imagined.
He doesn’t want to kill me, he wants to keep me alive in that Sleeper of his.
“How long?” I ask.
His shoulders relax. He thinks I am actually considering this. “Just until we find a cure.” Looking into his eyes, I know it will be long enough to horrify me.
I nod, and I’m sure to him it appears as though I’m ruminating over this.
The idea of being in that machine for months or—heaven forbid—years has my breath picking up. I’ve lost my family, my friends, my land, my freedom, even my memory for a time. I can’t lose this last sliver of my free will.
Montes’s eyes are flat. He’s already detached himself from what’s about to happen to me.
My muscles are twitching, telling me I need to run, now. I take a step back, towards the windows. Then another. “What will happen to me between now and then?”
This is the man who married me. The man who held me when I was sick. This is the man I’d begun to fall in love with, the man who told me he loved me.
But he is also the man responsible for the death of countless people. He’s the one who killed my parents, leveled my hometown, gave me cancer and the scar on my face.
He’s the one that made me the monster I am.
I’m already studying the exits. We’re on the third floor, which is probably intentional on the king’s part. If I try to leave through the windows, I will surely break my legs. That leaves the door behind Montes.
I don’t have a gun, and by now, there are probably over a dozen guards on the other side of the door, all waiting for me to try to escape.
If I want to leave through that door, I’m going to have to get past the king and many more armed guards who I can hear positioning themselves in the hallway. They’re outside too, and they’re getting closer.
Montes must see the realization in my eyes. He takes a step forward, then another. “Serenity, look at me.”
That was why he called so many guards into such a futile situation, to smother any wild ideas I might get. He’s the leader of the world; he knows a thing or two about strategy.
“You led me in here like a lamb to slaughter.” I’m moving around the room. Resting on one of the side tables is a vase. On another is a lamp. Both are potential weapons.
He folds his arms, tracking me. “Are you seriously considering smashing that lamp over my head?”
“It doesn’t have to be this way, Montes,” I say. “Everything can go back to the way it was.”
He takes a step towards me. “It will,” he says. “Eventually.”
Adrenaline buzzes just beneath the surface of my skin. “I will hurt you,” I say. “I don’t want to, but I will.”
It’s that, or hurt myself, and nothing in this room would kill me faster than the king could save me. Not even falling through those windows, I realize.
That’s why the soldiers are outside. Not to prevent escape, to prevent a potential suicide.
The king turns away from me and glances at the door. “Guards!”
I begin to move before the words are fully out of his mouth.
I grab the lamp, but rather than throwing it at the king, who would surely duck, I lob it at the window.
Glass and porcelain shatter as the lamp obliterates it. Behind me, the door is thrown open.
I sprint away from the king, towards the broken window.
“Serenity, don’t!” the king yells.
He thinks I’m trying to kill myself; he still doesn’t really know who I am or else he’d know that this is my last desperate chance at survival. Then again, I can’t blame him. Even after all we’ve been through, I don’t really know who he is either.
I leap over furniture, ignoring the shouts coming from the guards.
I can hear them behind me, flooding into the room now that the charade of civility is up.
I reach the window and kick the last jagged bits of glass out before throwing one foot over the side. I swing the other leg over, and then I push off the sill.
“Serenity!” the king yells.
This is the second time I’ve exited the king’s palace through one of his windows. And there’s a moment after each leap of faith where I feel blissfully free. My hair whips around my face, my shirt flaps manically, and the ground rises up swiftly.