Take Root (The Eleventh Hour #2)

1. Chapter One - Leigh

President Janus Dyer smiles, sharp and calculated, and I know I am in trouble.

“Your Majesty,” she purrs, her voice as smooth as silk.

She leans in to kiss my cheeks, her oleander perfume intoxicatingly sweet.

“I look forward to hearing your proposals.”

I suppress the shiver threatening to race down my spine as I return her smile, my lips twisting with their own thorns.

It is evident in her tense shoulders and guarded caramel eyes that Janus is wary of me, and for good reason.

I am the reason she spent several agonizing days at Hebe Hospital in October, her veins burning with the white-hot agony of daemon venom.

In a misguided attempt to save my country from war last autumn, I made a deal with the Magician—the leader of Eos—to raise a daemon and harvest its venom in exchange for the War Letters, which I thought contained harmful information regarding my family.

I had no idea the Magician, a.k.a.Uncle Don, planned to use the venom on Janus.

I didn’t intend for her to get hurt.

A fact I had explained extensively during my tell-all with the Imperial Inquirer before my coronation.

It doesn’t appear she accepted my public apology, but hopefully, when she hears my proposals today, she’ll realize I’ve only ever put my country first, and I intend to continue doing so.

“Please take a seat. I’ve ordered tea,” I say steadily, despite the butterflies in my stomach.

I settle into the plush armchair next to my grandmother, holding the thick envelope containing the proposal plans I’ve been working on for weeks.

These proposals aim to make our country more equitable.

They will address the wrongs of my ancestors, who created the Labor Laws that unjustly punished the Nebula and forced the vampires underground.

Additionally, these changes will ensure a safer environment for Lunar Witches by closing the asylums.

I was crowned three weeks ago, and since then, the ethereal spirits of my ancestor Aradia and my father have been guiding me for this pivotal first meeting with Janus.

From this point onward, I will meet with Janus weekly to discuss kingdom affairs and any changes I wish to propose for our governing policies before presenting them to the Council for a vote.

I intend to continue attending these meetings with Janus and presenting a united front.

The door swings open, and a palace attendant carries a rattling silver tea tray.

She sets it before me with a soft clink, quickly preparing my tea just as I like it—with one lump of sugar and no cream—before tending to my grandmother’s.

The room is heavy with tension and the overpowering scent of our perfumes.

Ornate furniture and luxurious draperies envelop us, reminding me of the wealth and power I embody and the past wrongs I must correct.

“Let’s begin with the vampires, shall we?” I say.

“Doctor Chiara Dunn has requested financial support from the Council to research a cure for vampirism. I want to invest in her research, but I want to make sure you do as well.”

Janus’s eyes search mine.

“Done,” she says.

I press my lips together to suppress a triumphant smile until she adds, “On one condition. We’ve only begun mending relations with Queen Vyvyan’s court. The reaction to a cure is unknown and, therefore, a risk I’d rather not take unless we’re sure that Doctor Dunn’s research is successful.”

I reflect on Janus’s request.

I had promised myself that during my reign, I would no longer keep secrets from my subjects, including the vampires, but I see a risk in raising people’s hopes if we fail to deliver.

“Fine, but since Queen Vyvyan and Prince Vane will attend the Council meeting tomorrow, it may be difficult to keep the hunt for the cure a secret.”

Janus nods.

“It’s easily handled. We’ll use approved funds and reallocate them for Doctor Dunn’s research, so it doesn’t need to be mentioned again.”

“Smart thinking, Madam President,” my grandmother says, making Janus beam with smug satisfaction.

Her rich brown skin glows in the soft, watery sunlight that peeks through the heavy gray clouds for the first time in days.

February in Borealis is always dreary, and this winter is no exception.

We’ve experienced record snowfall, but nothing like what they’ve faced in Glaucus.

The roads there have iced over more than once, and the Solar Witches have had to work overtime to keep the treacherous northern streets safe.

“Leigh,” my grandmother says, turning her attention to me.

“Doesn’t that sound reasonable?”

“Oh, yes, very reasonable,” I say through gritted teeth.

I hate that it feels like we are betraying the fragile trust of the vampires, though I understand both sides.

“Good, what else?” Janus prompts.

I clear my throat.

“I propose we close all Lunar Witch asylums immediately and transform them into reentry facilities.”

Janus stares at me.

We need to change society’s perception of Lunar Witches.

We are not dangerous; Aradia told us this much when I summoned her before the crowd at the capitol.

We are historians—vessels who pass down knowledge from our ancestors, not heathens.

Lunar Witches are not born evil but are made evil, so we must help them after centuries of abuse.

“Lunar Witches deserve freedom, but we must assist them in their transition. The reentry facilities will offer medical care and safe housing, but?—”

“No,” Janus says.

I blink, stunned.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I understand this is deeply personal for you, Leigh, but that’s just it—it’s personal.”

I cross my arms, heat simmering beneath my skin.

Of course, it is personal.

I condemned Lunar Witches, buying into the stigma against them even after I Emerged as one of them.

Rewriting the narrative is important to me.

I was part of the problem.

“The Lunar Witches are currently safe within the asylums. They have food and a place to sleep, but it is still unsafe for them outside those walls,” Janus says.

“You would leave innocent witches falsely imprisoned in cages disguised as hospitals?” My voice rises an octave.

My grandmother shifts beside me.

“Of course not, but there are more urgent issues at the moment.”

I wait three agonizing seconds before responding, hoping my heavy silence conveys the depths of my disgust.

“If helping wrongfully persecuted witches isn’t worth our time, then what is?”

Janus’s piercing gaze drifts toward my grandmother, which only fuels my ire.

My grandmother isn’t the queen; I am.

Her presence at this meeting is entirely ceremonial.

“ What? ” I snap.

My grandmother breaks the loaded silence.

“Leigh, helping the Lunar Witches is important, but so is stabilizing the country. The Nebula people refuse to adhere to the Labor Laws. Riots erupt nightly in most cities where the Epsilon refuse to raise people’s pay, and the skyrocketing popularity of The Tower Tribune has only made matters worse. This is especially concerning because we know someone on the Council is aiding Stellan Navis’s crusade to reveal salacious gossip masquerading as truth, fueling the hatred between the factions and causing people to doubt the government, particularly in Aurora.”

We can’t force people to follow the Labor Laws.

They were implemented when people believed the worst about the Nebula class following the First War.

I want to remove them entirely.

It is here in the envelope that I am white-knuckling.

We will eliminate the Labor Laws, giving the Nebula a choice for the first time in their lives about how they envision their futures.

At least, that is my desire.

“Stellan is a problem, but is he dangerous?”

Stellan is a reporter who previously worked in the mayor’s office in Aurora.

He concentrates on covering the political climate there.

Recently, he has broadened his scope by criticizing the Council and me.

He raises a valid point: We must do more for the Nebula people.

Giving them representation on the Council is a positive step, but it’s insufficient.

A civil war is not out of the question if the current situation persists, which terrifies me.

Take a deep breath, Aradia’s ghost whispers.

I don’t understand how she can be so calm.

Closing those asylums means as much to her as it does to me.

“Leigh, you know the pen is always mightier than the sword. Identify the mole among your ranks and focus on what is the bigger threat. Like our borders,” my grandmother replies, and Janus nods as if they’ve already discussed this at length.

I glare at them both.

Maybe they have.

“King Simon Lupas of Lua and his sons declined their invitation to your coronation. But that doesn’t mean they haven’t been watching you closely.”

“The werewolves share a border with us. It makes sense that they would keep tabs on me, but wouldn’t that take time if they plan to invade? It shouldn’t be at the forefront of your mind, Grandmother,” I say, ignoring the quiver in my stomach.

Corona and Lua have been at odds for centuries, ever since the wolves’ failed invasion to obtain our oil resources during my great-great-grandfather’s reign.

King Simon declined my invitation for health reasons.

His sons, Zeus and Alden, chose to stay behind and care for him.

Yet, my grandmother has me questioning if something more nefarious is afoot.

“Paw prints were seen leading from Canis Pass into our territory,” my grandmother says, and I tense.

Why is this the first time I’m hearing this?

“The wolves should be your primary focus, Leigh. Invasion could be imminent.”

Janus slips her trembling hands into her pockets.

“If that’s true, I’ll be ready for them. As president, I?—”

My grandmother shakes her head.

“A divided Corona is a vulnerable Corona. You must unite to get through this transitional period intact.”

Janus’s gaze meets mine, but her attention quickly shifts away from me to focus on my grandmother.

“What do you suggest then, Your Majesty?”

My patience snaps.

“Well, for starters, we tell people the full truth about the wolves. Perhaps the fear of an invasion will inspire them to get along.”

Janus blanches.

“That’s an awful idea.”

“Well, I don’t see you offering any better ones. We need to regain people’s trust.”

“Scaring them into submission isn’t how we do that.”

“That isn’t what I?—”

“If I may,” my grandmother says, “you both need to focus on mending your relationships, both with each other and within the Council. Stellan’s articles have you cornered. Uncover who is collaborating with him and why. The wolves and Stellan pose real threats. We must demonstrate our unity. Deny Stellan any material to write about, and he will lose interest. If we show the wolves that we are united and stronger, they will think twice before attacking.”

I peer at Janus.

We’re not at odds.

I have no problems with her.

“How about this . . .” my grandmother continues.

“Should one of you take the train to Glaucus to assess the borders? Meet with the Blade Commander there and devise a plan to rectify the situation while the other works with the Council to stop Stellan.”

I shake my head.

My reign has just begun.

I must stay to prove to my people that I am trustworthy and involved.

Janus’s presidency is temporary; she is only here until the next election.

She needs to campaign if she wants to keep her position.

I can tell by the way she’s eyeing me that she’d sooner chew off her foot than leave me unsupervised.

I must admit, I feel the same.

“Fine.” My grandmother sighs.

“I will go to Glaucus. Heaven knows I need a break from Borealis.”

Relief washes over me.

My grandmother will handle the border, and I will have one less thing to worry about.

Don’s trial recently concluded, and the backstabbing bastard was found guilty on multiple counts, including capital murder, for orchestrating the attack that killed my father and brother.

My grandmother hasn’t stopped beating herself up for not seeing through his duplicity sooner or for not trusting me when I came to her about the letters.

A trip to Glaucus is a chance for her to recharge and make amends for her mistakes.

It will also allow me to stretch my legs as queen without everyone deferring to her, as if the crown doesn’t rest upon my head.

“I’ll arrange your travel,” I say to her.

She nods in agreement.

With that, I turn to Janus.

“Now, regarding tomorrow’s meeting.”

“It appears our time is up. My next appointment is across town,” Janus announces abruptly.

I suck in a sharp breath.

“But we haven’t covered everything.”

Leigh, Father’s ghost admonishes, remember what I told you.

Stay in control.

I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the sweet scent of fresh flowers from the tall arrangement to my right.

My father has supported me in my mother’s absence over the past weeks.

He claims that helping me adjust to my new role is part of his unfinished business.

Janus shrugs.

“Until you revise your proposals, I’ve heard enough.”

I rest the folder on my lap.

I need her approval before proceeding with my proposed policy changes, but if she’s not willing to listen, I won’t submit.

“Travel safely, Madam President. I look forward to seeing you at tomorrow’s Council meeting,” I say, reaching for my still-hot tea.

Janus bows.

“Your Majesties.”

As she exits, her back straight and confident, I accept that I underestimated her as an opponent.

My grandmother turns to me.

“Leigh, for the sake of the realm, you and Janus must learn to get along.”

“Janus had no intention of hearing me out or agreeing to any of my changes unless they were trivial,” I seethe.

She means to control me, just like my uncle did.

I refuse to stay quiet when I know something isn’t right in my heart.

“Excuse me,” I say tightly.

“I have calls to make.” I stride out, a plan already forming.

If Janus thinks she can outmaneuver me, she’s sorely mistaken.

I’ll find a way to push my reforms through, with or without her approval.

The future of Corona depends on it.