30. Chapter Thirty - Leigh
Seated in my usual chair inside the audience room, my heart pounds with anticipation and a touch of dread as I wait for Janus.
I’ve been dying to know what she and Alden discussed during breakfast yesterday.
Alden hasn’t said a peep.
All he wants to do is go out as if he could supply me with enough alcohol to get me to forget I hate him.
It hasn’t worked, and neither have my attempts to get him to talk about Janus or how to maintain peace between our countries.
My phone chimes, and I set down my teacup to read the incoming text from Pallas.
Pallas
Janus plans to meet Beatrix Marks at the kelpie race.
I choke on my spit before reading his text again.
Janus has a confirmed meeting with Beatrix.
It’s bold to meet the anti-monarchist in such a public space, or that’s its brilliance.
With so many people around, no one will be paying close enough attention.
Alcohol will be free-flowing, and everyone will be watching the race.
It’s the perfect setting to commit treason.
I kick myself for not finding out sooner.
I’ve been trying to slip back into Janus’s dreams.
Though I have zero regrets about entering Wilder’s subconscious, only that he woke up entirely too soon and left me frustratingly aroused, I still would have liked to peek inside Janus’s subconscious.
What is she planning with Beatrix, and how does it tie to Stellan and Alden?
I will use this time to find out.
The creak of the doors echoes through the room like a harbinger of the coming confrontation.
Janus sinks into a clumsy curtsy before me.
I cock a brow.
Is she nervous?
My attention snaps to the heels of her boots.
They look new.
I open my mouth to welcome her, but a giant yawn escapes.
Janus lifts a brow.
“Didn’t get much sleep last night?” she asks.
Her smile is colder than the icy breeze rattling the branches outside.
The chill of another winter day in Borealis seeps into my bones, and I find myself longing for the warmth of Wilder’s dream, the searing heat of his embrace, and the sun-drenched surroundings of Nereus.
All of that is a world away from the frigid reality that surrounds me now.
I reach for my black tea.
“I’ve slept better,” I say, my tone clipped.
I set my cup down.
The delicate clink of porcelain against the saucer echoes in the room, a fragile sound amidst the tension thickening the air.
Like last time, Janus remains standing, her presence looming over me.
The act sets my teeth on edge.
It is as though I’m under interrogation, and she’s the inquisitor, ready to bombard me with questions and pry the truth from my unwilling lips.
“Take a seat, Janus. It strains my neck having to look up for so long,” I demand.
Begrudgingly, Janus settles into the seat across from me.
“How have things been?” I ask, keeping my voice carefully neutral.
“Any new developments? Visitors I need to worry about?”
“No, and the only visitor you need to worry about is Alden,” she says with a clap of her hands.
I force myself to maintain my smile, breathing through my nose.
“That’s good. I wondered if the blackout would allow dangerous outsiders to slip our notice. But it sounds like you have everything under control,” I press, reaching for my tea again to occupy my restless hands.
They itch to wrap around her throat and shake her until she has no choice but to yield answers.
“Thank you, Your Majesty, but I want to ask you something,” Janus says.
“It has been weighing on my conscience for days.”
I quickly swallow my tea.
“Go on.”
“As you know, Alden and I had breakfast together after you failed to attend our luncheon. As Simon Lupas’s enforcer, he is the one to champion the king’s armies, and he promised that if Lua has access to Corona’s resources, then Lua and Corona can be friends.”
“He told you that?” I blurt out, heat skirting up my neck.
I’ve been in Alden’s company for days, and he has never outright asked me for resources.
But Janus spends a morning with him, and he spills his guts?
Janus meets my gaze head-on, her eyes glinting with pity.
“He told me a lot of things, but mainly, we talked about you.”
“Me?” I sit straighter.
“What about me?”
Janus flinches from the bite in my tone.
“As queen, you have the final say, but to ensure Lua’s needs are met, Alden and I discussed the best way to ensure peace is if you two get married. That way, as prince consort, Alden and Lua will never need to invade Corona because you two will be husband and wife. I hoped to speak to Queen Jorina about this before bringing it to your attention, to get her advice on the best way to approach you, but I haven’t been able to reach her.”
The world tilts on its axis.
My vision blurs.
Married.
The word sinks into my skin like poison, seeping into my veins, and spreading through my body like wildfire.
“Wow, it seems you two had quite the meal.” My voice sounds foreign even to my ears, too high-pitched and brittle.
A hint of satisfaction plays at the corners of her lips, a smug certainty that curdles my blood.
“We did, Your Majesty.”
“I will not marry Alden.” The words are cutting and sharp like glass when they leave my mouth.
“In case you forgot, I am seeing someone.”
“Leigh, Wilder is a Blade Commander,” she says with a sigh, as if that negates the depth of my feelings.
“So?”
“There’s marrying beneath your station, and then there’s marrying him.”
Red-hot anger surges through me, and I grip the arms of my chair so tightly I fear I may tear the upholstery.
“I beg your pardon?” I say through gritted teeth.
“Did you not marry a Nebula woman?”
Janus’s expression hardens.
“I am not a queen. My marriage holds no sway over peace.”
“This is unbelievable. You can’t just auction me off like some broodmare!”
Janus shakes her head.
“That’s not what I am doing. I am doing my best to keep our borders clear of invaders.”
I scoff as Janus goes on to add, “Would marrying Alden be so terrible? I find him to be an exemplary young man. You may not love him, but you could do much worse as a political alliance. Besides, his story about other nations reportedly showing interest in conquering us doesn’t sit right with me. He is a warrior, and with the extra defenses, we can focus on fixing our internal issues. We can unify the factions, and then we can allocate time and funds to projects like your Lunar asylums.”
My hand clutches my stomach as a wave of nausea rises inside me.
The thought of bearing Alden’s children, of them ruling in my stead, sickens me.
But so does the idea of other invaders eyeing us like a center-cut sirloin.
But what about Wilder?
He loves me.
“Stop it,” I say, my voice cracking.
“I won’t do it.”
“Leigh, please. At least think about it.” Janus’s mask of patience does little to conceal the calculation in her eyes.
Every fiber of my being rebels against the idea.
“What would your grandmother say? Or your father?” Janus presses.
“They both would rather shoot themselves in the foot than let a wolf sit on a witch’s throne,” I snap.
Janus gives me a look that says, Get real.
You need to consider all options, Leigh, my father’s ghost pipes up.
My breath catches, and I shove him out of my mind.
This can’t be happening.
“What about your mother?” Janus adds.
I scoff.
Mother would love to marry me off to a prince.
She never warmed to the idea of Wilder.
A Nebula, who carries a gun and has tattoos that are visible in a suit, is a man who represents everything she despises.
Janus nods like she can sense what I’m thinking.
“Talk to Cynthia. And your grandmother while you are at it. I told Alden we would give him an answer tomorrow. I invited him to watch the kelpies with me and the rest of the Council.”
I grimace.
Janus is handing me over to our enemies—a sacrificial lamb to be slaughtered on the altar of political expediency.
I know what would happen if I said no.
Any failed talks of peace will be my fault.
Janus will scheme behind my back more, and the Council will fall in line behind her, a united front against me.
Stellan will catch wind of my failed nuptials and write about it, and my mother will tell me she told me so in a smug reminder of my inadequacy.
“Talk to Wilder,” Janus says, and I blink.
“He’s an understanding guy, and I think if you told him you had to put your country first, he would understand.”
That’s it.
“Why were you at the hospital the night of the blackout?” I demand.
“It’s personal.” Janus stands with her attention on the clock.
She curtsies.
It’s a mocking gesture.
“Tomorrow. At the races.”
The door clicks shut, and I groan, chucking my teacup against the wall.
It shatters into a million pieces, leaving a brown stain on the carpet my grandmother would wring my neck over.
But she’s in Glaucus, and something tells me that if she were here, she’d agree with Janus.
Leigh, relax.
You don’t need to decide right now, Aradia’s ghost says faintly, as if she’s miles away.
She is a distant comfort in the face of my despair.
Still, I jolt, having not heard from her since before the first dreamwalking incident.
“Where have you been?” I ask, but once again, there’s no answer.
I bury my face in my hands, the sense of isolation akin to drowning.
I can hardly breathe.
Janus wants me to give Alden my answer tomorrow, but I’ve had no time to digest this new information.
He’s been planning this since his arrival, and it makes sense why he’s been so reluctant to talk to me.
He wanted to win Janus to his side.
But their alliance won’t be strong once I expose her for conspiring with Beatrix Marks tomorrow at the races.
Then I’ll get the rest of the Council to investigate her and Stellan’s possible relationship.