21. Chapter Twenty-One - Leigh
Exhausted from the day’s events, I crave the escape of sleep, wishing I could slumber into the next century.
As I slip between the cool sheets, the smooth fabric against my skin strangely reminds me of Alden’s slippery, eel-like nature—nothing romantic about it.
I believe I’ve demonstrated that my Council and I remain strong, despite the blackout and Stellan’s articles, but have I convinced him?
Tomorrow, I hope to discuss plans for securing peace while determining a date for his departure.
Alden could have made a mess for me tonight with the vampires.
He claims the wolves want peace, and while his actions seem to support this, something still makes me doubt his sincerity.
With a pained groan, I grab my phone to text Wilder.
Leigh
Miss you.
Talk tomorrow?
My phone vibrates a second later with a response.
I sit up to read his reply.
Wilder
How did things go with Janus at the luncheon?
I tighten my grip on my phone at Janus’s mention.
Her ambiguous connection to Beatrix Marks is deeply unsettling, and every scenario I imagine paints a grim picture.
Janus, my supposed confidante, has eroded my trust with her recent actions.
If Janus is working with Stellan, perhaps Beatrix is involved, too.
Stellan wants to turn the Nebula against me, and he could use Beatrix to sway public opinion and undermine my authority.
I must act quickly to unravel the truth before it’s too late.
Leigh
Janus and I are still working things out.
I hit send, then reread my text.
It’s not an outright lie, but it isn’t the truth.
Wilder
Good.
Proud of you.
I release a heavy sigh.
Wilder’s unwavering belief in unity is admirable.
He truly thinks everyone can put aside their differences and work together for the country’s betterment.
But he’s not here.
He didn’t witness Alden’s behavior tonight—the way he acted, the tension he created.
And he certainly didn’t see the cold, distant way Bennett treated me—the frigid reception that left me shivering.
Setting my phone aside, my thoughts switch to Bennett.
He spoke to Janus about missing the Council meeting, yet his demeanor at Little Death was so aloof, so detached.
The Allure played a role, but I wish I knew the words, the magic phrase that would make him open up to me.
I fluff my pillow and shut my eyes.
But the second I do, I’m jerked awake—not in the familiar comfort of my room at the palace but somewhere outdoors, surrounded by grassy, rolling hills and leafless trees.
How did I end up outside?
I’m still in my pajamas, with no shoes on.
The grass underfoot is soft, tickling my toes as dawn begins to paint the hills.
Far off, a grand building looms.
“Ah, there you are,” a familiar female voice says.
I whirl to see Janus’s long, dark hair whipping in the wind.
“We can’t stay here.”
A squall of unease hardens my stomach as I hug myself to ward off the early morning chill.
The cold penetrates deep, making me shiver in my exposed state.
Janus seems oblivious or indifferent to the fact that I’m in a barely there nightgown, her attire in stark contrast with a professional jacket and trousers, as though she’s just stepped out of a work meeting.
“Janus,” I manage to say as she moves past me, heading for the building perched on the hill.
“What place is this? How did I even get here?”
My last clear memory is falling asleep after I left the club.
I’d stopped messaging Wilder, turned over, and then nothing.
But now, here I am, outside, and not by myself.
My heart races.
Is this a dream?
But everything feels so real.
Could someone have slipped something into my drink?
“Almost there, Leigh. Keep pace,” Janus says over her shoulder.
I hurry to catch up with her.
Why isn’t she bothered by my confusion?
Unless she’s who brought me here?
Above us, birds circle—a murder of crows, identifiable by their dark plumage and raucous cries.
The sight of them scouting for food, with just Janus and me in this vast field, spurs me to quicken my steps.
“Janus,” I pant.
“What’s all this about?”
“Something we’ve been planning for a long while.”
I blink.
Frustrated with the vague responses, I grasp her shoulder, but the moment I touch her, a startling vision overwhelms me: a colossal black snake lunges at me, its fangs bared menacingly, yet its caramel eyes are unmistakably Janus’s.
The vision vanishes as soon as I let go, and I’m left gasping.
What the hell was that?
“We’re here,” Janus says, pulling me back to the present.
I look around, eyes wide, to find we’re standing at the entrance of the imposing, windowless building that seemed so distant a moment ago.
She knocks thrice on the door, then faces me, her smile chilling, almost serpent-like.
I step back.
“What is this place?”
“Your new home.”
The door swings open, revealing a blank-faced Bennett in somber black attire.
He’s the picture of an executioner in a hooded cloak as he reaches to pull me inside.
“I was starting to get worried,” he remarks.
I dig my heels into the ground.
“Can somebody please explain what’s happening?”
Bennett and Janus exchange a creased look of weariness before Janus seizes my other arm.
They drag me inside the mysterious building.
As the door shuts with a thud, I find myself in a poorly lit, empty room.
My body screams for me to move, but I’m immobilized.
Leather bindings secure my arms and legs to a chair.
I struggle to free myself.
It’s pointless.
“Why are you doing this?” I demand in a gasp.
The restraints are painfully tight, reminiscent of the vines Chiron once used to bind me before locking me inside a bank vault months ago.
I release a worried cry.
“What is this? Is anyone there?”
The silence is as final as a judge’s gavel until the creak of another door heralds the entrance of Janus, Bennett, Wilder, and Doctor Chiara Dunn.
A rush of relief washes over me at the sight of Wilder—surely, he will explain everything.
He will unbind me.
“Thank the stars. You’re—” My relief is cut short at the sight of the ominous metal tool in Doctor Dunn’s hand.
A leucotome—a chilling symbol of lobotomy.
I clench and unclench my bound fists.
“What are you doing with that?” Desperation creeps into my voice.
I look past Doctor Dunn, seeking Wilder’s intervention, but he stands aside, arms crossed, unresponsive.
“Someone answer me!”
“President Dyer has expressed concern about your well-being,” Doctor Dunn says.
“What about it? I’m fine.”
Janus answers with a weary sigh.
“Let’s not pretend.”
“You’ve been running on empty, Leigh,” Wilder adds.
I gape at him.
Every part of me is indeed exhausted, but with good reason.
I’m at the helm of a nation now, fully embroiled in turmoil, each day presenting its own set of fires to put out.
And it’s hardly helped by the layers of secrecy maintained by those I’m supposed to trust the most.
“Why am I here?” I snap, glaring among them all.
“What is this, an intervention?”
Janus sweeps my hair back from my face, which I bet she meant as a soothing gesture, but it only fuels my anger.
I lash against my restraints.
“Can’t you see?” she croons.
“You’re here to rest.”
“Rest is the last thing I need. Are you plotting against me?”
Janus just laughs, a sound everyone else in the room echoes.
Their laughter swells, filling the space in a way that scratches my mind, propelling me into madness.
“Guard!” I cry out.
Isolde, or someone else, might hear me.
“Leigh, no one’s coming for you,” Janus says, her tone bordering on sympathetic.
However, it sounds more like a sneer.
“Everyone’s fed up with you. Every disaster that’s befallen this country, it traces back to you. A Lunar Witch was never meant to rule, so we’ve brought you here—to one of those institutions you’ve been so intent on dismantling—to demonstrate just how futile your endeavors are.”
Her words hit me like a splash of cold water.
Am I in an asylum?
I scan the room, which resembles a dungeon from ancient times more than any medical facility.
Tears sting my eyes, and my voice cracks as I ask.
“W-why are you doing this to me?”
“Because,” Bennett says, “Don was correct. A Lunar Witch will only doom us all. It’s safer for everyone if you stay here, confined with others of your kind, while we rectify your havoc. Rest assured; I’ll keep the nation secure.”
“What havoc?” Janus’s lips tighten at my question.
“All I’ve done is attempt to mend this country. I’ve?—”
In an oddly calm voice, Wilder advises, “It’s best for everyone if you just go along with it.”
I struggle to look at him, and his presence hurts worst of all.
He said he loved me, but was that a lie?
Was everything?
I need to get out of here.
“Guard!”
I writhe against my bindings.
This must be a nightmare.
Yet, the vividness of my senses argues otherwise—the chill of the leather chair beneath me, the trace of salt in the air, the warmth of Janus’s breath as she soothingly brushes my hair away from my face.
Tears carve paths down my cheeks, one for every person in this room.
Each of them watches, waits, complicit in whatever comes next.
“Stop,” I plead between the tastes of salt and despair.
“P-please.”
Janus exhales.
“Ever since your Emergence, things have spiraled from bad to worse. First, your father and brother die. Then, your uncle turns out to be the Magician. But was Don that out of line? Revealing those letters hurt us all.”
“And what is your plan when I am gone?”
“We plan to consolidate the presidency with your royal title, assuming complete governance over Corona, and agree to an alliance with Lua.” Her response is more horrifying than the leucotome in Doctor Dunn’s grip.
“Unifying leadership under one ruler is the only viable solution to combat the looming threat of war between the factions.”
I laugh, which makes Janus step back.
So, Janus consorting with anti-monarchists like Beatrix and Stellan has been to orchestrate my downfall.
“You don’t want to help people. You want power all to yourself!”
“Enough,” Janus barks.
Bennett flinches.
“Doctor, you may begin the procedure. It’s time to relieve Leigh of all her burdens.”
I scream, writhe, and scream again, yet it does nothing to deter Chiara’s advance.
I find myself unable to meet her severe green gaze, not just because of the resolve in them but because their color, so reminiscent of her son’s, brings a different pain.
Wilder stands off to the side, unmoving.
With no ally in sight and no rescue on the way, my resistance dwindles to resignation.
My glare at Janus hardens.
Defiance is my last stand.
I gasp out, “You’ll lead us to ruin,” as Chiara positions the leucotome against my retina.
With a start, I sit up.
I’m in my bedroom.
Shaking my wrists out, I find them astonishingly free of any bindings.
A hand touches my shoulder.
I let out a sharp scream, expecting to see Chiara or Janus, but it’s a woman with striking cobalt hair and stars inked into her skin—Isolde.
“You were dreaming,” she says.
I take a deep, shaky breath to dispel the lingering tendrils of the nightmare and clear my hazy mind.
Sitting up, I push the blankets aside with trembling hands.
“It was all a dream?” I whisper, my voice hoarse and uncertain.
I struggle to reconcile the vividness of the experience with reality.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, planting my feet on the cool floor to ground myself.
After taking a moment to compose my breathing, my heart still racing, I stand.
Each step toward the bathroom is unsteady, and I am desperate to outrun the haunting images that cling to me.
“Are you okay?” Isolde’s concern-laced voice breaks through my turmoil.
“I’m—” I start to assure her, but the words falter on my lips.
Glancing down, I notice the state of my feet—grass-stained and dirty, bizarrely mirroring the dream’s outdoor landscape.
I choke on a breath.
“Your Majesty?”
I muster a shaky smile.
She can’t know what happened to me, not when I grapple with the uncertainty.
“Isolde, I’m fine. It was just a dream, like you said. You can go. Thanks for checking on me.”
Isolde frowns, perhaps hoping for a more profound confession, a glimpse into the depths of my nightmare.
But I’m not ready to share, not when the echoes of that dream stir real fears about my sanity.
The suspicions about Janus’s intentions and the unsettling reality of my dirt-caked feet will remain my burden.
Once alone, I call out, “Aradia?” Desperate for answers and some explanation of my bizarre experience.
But I’m met with a chilling silence that only amplifies my unease.
With no response from Aradia, I think of Ravi, hoping he can shed light on the truth.
Yet, a nagging doubt lingers in my mind.
Will he manipulate the facts to serve his agenda?