The Queen of All that Lives Page 88

Yeah, whatever.

Some of the soldiers take the body from Marco and me and began to load it into the boat.

“What are you doing here?” I ask Styx. He hasn’t stopped staring at me.

“Meeting you in person, as promised. I am escorting you and the king’s former right-hand,” he gestures to Marco without looking at him, “to the West.”

My gaze cuts to Marco, who’s openly scowling at Styx.

“Alright,” I say with a shrug, brushing past him to board the boat. This is where my control in the situation begins to unravel. If the West thought this was a decent idea, then I’ll go along with it. And if I happen to kill the leader of the First Free Men en route, that’s on them.

One of the WUN soldiers steps in front of me. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” one of them says, “but we can’t let you bring your weapons onboard.”

I glance back at Marco, who shrugs. “It’s their policy,” he says as he divests himself of his weapons. They hit the shallow water we stand in with a splash.

I’ve been here before. I’m not leaving my father’s gun.

“You’re not taking my weapons, and I don’t give a shit if you think this flies in the face of diplomacy.”

“Your Majesty,” one of the soldiers says, “the representatives—”

Fuck the representatives.

“I can walk right back into the palace, douse the flames, and continue to war with the West as the Queen of the East,” I say. “You and I both know I have the backing of the people. So I suggest you let me take my damn guns and we get on with it.”

They don’t look like they’re going to get on with anything.

“Let the queen have her weapons,” Styx says, crowding in close and covering my hand, which is resting on my holster, with his own.

I tighten my jaw. Those mad eyes of his bore into me, and they contain no little amount of heat.

I can feel Marco stiffening at my side, and I swear I’d say he was acting protective. He was in love with a woman who looked just like me. Of course he’s being protective.

I shoulder past both of them, stepping onto the boat, and no one else tries to stop me.

Once we’re all boarded, the motorboat cuts through the water, moving out into open water. This time, I don’t get seasick, though I’m not surprised. At the moment I’m too hopped up on adrenaline and desensitized from the earlier attack to notice something like nausea.

“It is a strange thing,” Styx says, looking over at the body. “The king is very badly burned, and yet you appear unharmed.”

I expected this.

I raise an eyebrow. “It wouldn’t be so strange if you’d been there.”

Styx cocks his head. “Perhaps. Or perhaps our sleeping queen is now a scheming queen.”

I lean back in my seat and squint up at the sun, ignoring the stares. “I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”

The tension on the boat ratchets up at my words.

“We will.”

At some point we exchange boat for helicopter, then helicopter for aircraft.

I’m pensive as I stare out the window. These might be the last hours of my life. I should savor them. Instead, I spend that time letting my mind drift, unwilling to let my thoughts settle on any one thing.

Marco sits at my side. Every several minutes, he glances over like he wants to talk. Each time he does, I tense. What could we possibly have to say to one another? He betrayed his friend, and I know he thinks I did as well.

“Garcia has been staring at you since we boarded,” he finally says.

“I know,” I say, not bothering to look away from the window.

Marco’s voice lowers. “He’s not a good man.”

“I know,” I repeat. These aren’t epiphanies or anything.

Marco grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. “He’s been married twice,” he says, his voice low. “Both women bore strong resemblances to you. Both died mysteriously.”

“What do you want me to do about it, Marco?” I hiss. “Now take your goddamned hand off of me.”

Reluctantly, he releases my chin. “I can’t protect you once we’re in WUN territory.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” I’m insulted he thinks I need protecting, and I’m even more annoyed that he thinks I’m ignorant about Styx’s perversions. If there ever was a man who I should be immediately wary of, Styx would be it.

“Just be careful. He’s going to come for you at some point. I want you to be ready.”

I stare at him for several seconds. My eyes flick up to Styx, who is indeed still watching me, and I nod.

I can already tell Styx is not someone to underestimate.

Not an hour after our conversation, the aircraft begins its descent.

The walled city comes into view. It looks even more magnificent as we circle it, the bright blue water of the Pacific nicely framing the city nestled in the coastal cliffs.

We touch down shortly after that, bouncing in our seats as the aircraft’s tires skid down the runway.

We’re here.

As soon as the engines die down, I stand. Resolve steals over me.

I will be the king’s Trojan horse.

That’s the promise I made all those years ago. To make it past the gates and wreak destruction from the inside out. But unlike Troy, there are no heroes here. Just killers and corpses.

I head down the aisle, and as I pass Styx, his head swivels to follow my movements. I can sense his excitement. Just like the representatives, I’m sure he thinks of me as nothing more than a war prize.

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