Chapter 31
Sander
I don’t breathe until Astrid is safely out of view, though it takes everything in me not to stare at Blackmere and ask him why he didn’t stop her from leaving. His questionable loyalties aren’t my priority right now. Whatever Astrid is doing, I need to buy her as much time as I can.
“I’m assuming I failed your little test,” I say to Helena Vardane, still with plenty of anger in my voice, “but it seems I still have value for Rowen.” I look at him, narrowing my eyes and trying not to feel too much of a thrill when he swallows nervously.
Neither side seems to know what to do with me, which means for once I actually hold some power.
It’s a strange, heady feeling.
Does Hex feel this way all the time?
Crowell scoffs. “If we thought you could be useful, we would have recruited you months ago.”
“Then why invite me to so many of your events?” I ask.
“They didn’t,” Blackmere says, as casually as if commenting on the weather. “You’re just inconveniently good at showing up in all the right places.”
And as everyone turns to look at him, that’s when they realize.
“Storme is gone!” Helena shrieks, grabbing Crowell’s arm and shoving him toward the door. “Find her!” As soon as Crowell is gone, she points a finger at Blackmere with a glare so sharp that I’m surprised it hasn’t cut Blackmere to ribbons. “You let her go.”
He doesn’t look bothered in the least, lifting a careless eyebrow. “Oh, was she important? See, I’m of the same mind as Prince Hendrik and am struggling to see why I got pulled into this. How can I be of use if I’m operating blind?”
I still haven’t fully processed what Helena said about Blackmere’s recent involvement when I thought he’d been part of this from the start, but what I’d really like to know is who recruited him. Helena or Rowen?
“Or how any of this benefits me,” Blackmere adds, shifting his gray gaze to Rowen.
“Maybe you’re here in case I don’t do what they’re hoping I will,” I suggest in a taunting tone. “Second best option.”
“Doubtful, but an option for what?” He hasn’t moved from the doorway, and I have to admire his cool demeanor. He’ll make an impressive duke someday, assuming the aristocracy doesn’t fall to ruin in the next few hours.
“Good question,” I say and give Rowen my best Hex stare.
The one he uses when someone is in the way of his victory.
Rowen shuffles his weight nervously, and I let my lips twist up in a subtle smile.
“Why pull such a risky move like bringing a prince into the inner circle when you already have aristocratic support?”
Without giving Rowen a chance to answer, I turn to Helena. “Why support a group who has been actively trying to dismantle the hierarchy that gives your husband his wealth and influence in the first place?”
When no one answers my questions, I shift my focus back to Rowen.
“You said that I’m proof that change is inevitable.
” That isn’t quite what he said, but I’m not necessarily going for accuracy here.
I want answers. “With an Alverran prince behind you, someone both charismatic and tactical and somehow always right, how could anyone argue against you?”
Blackmere scoffs. “Do you really think you’re that important, Prince?”
I don’t take my eyes off Rowen. “Tell me I’m wrong, Rowen,” I say. “You thought having Prince Hendrik on your side was the last thing you needed to make sure tonight goes how you want it to, which is why you invited me without telling Lady Vardane, knowing she would disagree.”
Rowen meets Helena’s gaze, and the two of them put on a good show of pretending they aren’t bothered by my assessment.
“And you’re saying his idea was a bad one?” Blackmere asks, sounding amused.
I chuckle. “Not necessarily.”
Though his jaw is tight, Rowen’s shoulders relax slightly as he studies me. He took a risk by bringing Astrid and me into his plan at the last minute, but he must have seen something in us to think we would be helpful. He already confirmed why he wanted Astrid to join, but why did he invite me?
To someone like you? I have a feeling she’s worth a good deal. That’s what he told me Sunday night. I’m here because Astrid is here. Because I’ve spent the last week showing Candora that I’m fully loyal to her.
I shift my gaze to Helena, who glares back. That’s probably the same reason she doesn’t want me here.
Or rather, those reasons are why they do or don’t want Hex here.
Acting like Hex helped Astrid get away, just as she hoped, but I think it’s time to change the stakes in this game we’re playing. I may not be holding the best hand, but at least I’ll be able to see who’s bluffing.
And maybe I can figure out Helena’s game while I’m at it.
“Here’s the thing,” I say and put on a casual air to match Blackmere’s.
“Neither of you is going to get what you want from me because there’s a rather large flaw in your plans.
” I point at Rowen. “You’re hoping Hex can add legitimacy to your platform by standing behind your symbol.
” I nod at Helena. “And you’ve decided that Hex is too unpredictable to consider making him one of your pawns. ”
I grin. “But the problem is, I’m not Hex.”
The silence following my admission is so heavy that I can practically feel it.
Blackmere breaks the tension first, swearing softly as he shakes his head. I can’t tell if he’s fighting a laugh or grimacing because I just ruined his plan too, but he’s the least of my worries right now.
“Aleksander,” Helena says on a breath. The corners of her eyes tense, her lips twitch, and the first sign of panic creases her eyebrows. She doesn’t know enough about me to know if the cards in her hand are worth what they were before.
Good.
To reinforce her anxiety, I grin and slowly round the table, making my way toward her as I say, “I’m not my brother, and whatever you think you know about me, you’re wrong.”
She narrows her eyes. “Meaning?”
“Meaning you and I should talk.” I lift an eyebrow in a challenge, curious if she’ll understand what I’m implying. “In private.”
“Now wait a minute,” Rowen says finally, stepping forward. He looks from me to Helena to Blackmere and back to me, clearly calculating his options. “We’re all in this together. I don’t see why—”
“You made it clear that you can handle everything from here on your own, Mr. Rowen,” Helena says and lifts her chin. “Assuming you’ve done what you said you would.”
He bristles. “I’m a man of my word. The people will be ready to move at dawn.”
Dawn. That doesn’t give us much time to find a way to stop all of this from happening. I glance at my phone to note the time—one thirty—then see that I don’t have a signal. Maybe that’s why Callum’s been so quiet, but it also means I won’t have a way to talk to Astrid unless I find her.
And there’s no point in finding her if I don’t have any information to show for it.
“Your Highness,” Rowen says to me, though his eyes jump to my phone as I slip it back into my pocket. “Your support will have the most effect from our side of things, so I think you should—”
“Focus on your revolution, Rowen,” Helena snaps. “The prince is coming with me so I can ensure he won’t ruin everything we’ve planned.”
I smirk at Rowen, who clenches his jaw and glares back at me.
“Hex never would have joined you,” I tell him, then tilt my head and harden my expression, hoping he catches the seriousness of my look.
“I, however, am curious to see what comes of this morning.” With that, I turn on my heel and head for the door.
Making eye contact with Blackmere as I pass, I narrow my eyes at him and mutter, “Pick a side.” He’ll be easier to plan for if he does.
I only make it two steps into the hall before Crowell stops me.
Well, it’s the two massive, burly men behind him that stop me.
I could probably take the cronies in a fight, but not without sustaining some serious injuries.
If it was just Crowell, I’d happily take him on in hand-to-hand combat and wipe his sneer off his face.
“Can’t let you leave,” Crowell says, and his eyes jump behind me as footsteps join me in the hall.
“Storme?” Helena asks. She’s on her own, which means Blackmere is still in the conference room with Rowen. If Helena is aware that he didn’t follow, she doesn’t seem to care.
Crowell grimaces. “She’s missing, but anyone still in the building is looking for her. We have the exits blocked.”
I wonder who ‘we’ entails, if it’s the anti-royalists who profess to not use violence or more muscle like the two men flanking Crowell. Either way, Astrid can hold her own.
“Keep looking,” Helena orders, then holds up a hand before the goons can follow an irritated Crowell.
“You two come with me. Prince Aleksander, if you’ll join me upstairs…
” It’s clearly not a suggestion, based on the way the two men move in close to force me to follow Helena to the nearby staircase.
Crowell stops dead and looks back at me with wide eyes and plenty of confusion. “Prince Aleks…”
Chuckling, I salute him and head for the stairs.
Helena leads me to a sort of break room with three plush couches sitting at ninety degrees from each other, and a small oval table and some chairs beyond them. A refrigerator hums in the corner next to an espresso machine and electric kettle. It’s all very mundane.
Less mundane is the large map pinned to the wall.
It’s easy to recognize Invem’s streets, but I don’t know what the red dots mean or the strings of numbers assigned to each one.
“This is Rowen’s plan?” I ask as I study the map.
Most of the dots are in community areas, whether it’s shopping districts or housing neighborhoods, and the whole city is covered.
Points of attack? But no, that would only harm the people, and Rowen doesn’t strike me as the sort to court chaos. He’s been planning this for too long.
As if she reads my thoughts, Helena sighs and says, “I have to admit he knows how to organize.” She comes to stand beside me as she squints at the map.