53 Rhona
Rhona
Rhona had loaded her travel pack as quickly as possible. She didn’t own much: her everyday leathers, and a few shirts and
pants. Rhona had never needed much, or had much, growing up. For that, she was thankful.
The barracks had been quiet for the most part, and she’d hoped she’d managed to seem as nonchalant as possible as she strode
through the space to grab her things. The few soldiers working odd hours had watched her as she walked by, but nothing had
seemed too out of the ordinary to her.
In and out, she had said to herself over and over until she’d exited the barracks. As she left the place she’d called home
for years and hurried into the castle, she heard a few voices through the open door to the throne room, one of them Commander
Bartholomew’s.
“I understand what you’re saying, but I’m not authorized to make that decision without Lord General Kerrigan here,” she heard
as she slunk by.
“She is the best option for my next subject,” she heard Dr. Balet say.
Rhona’s veins turned to ice. They were talking about her.
She picked up speed as she turned the corner, nearly running as she headed back to Maeve’s quarters.
When Rhona got to the door she opened it without knocking and locked the door behind her, afraid that she’d been followed despite knowing she hadn’t been.
Maeve jumped up from her chair wearing the same clothing she’d been wearing before, a look of pure relief on her face.
Rhona smiled through her concern about Maeve’s clothing—she shouldn’t leave the palace in her pajamas—as Maeve bounded over
and planted a kiss on Rhona’s cheek.
“My visions changed, it worked.” She smiled, relief written all over her features.
“That’s great news. Where do we need to go?” Rhona asked. “And why aren’t you ready?”
Maeve’s face changed, almost imperceptibly, but enough that Rhona immediately noticed it.
“I’m not ready because I am staying here. You have to go,” Maeve said, richly lit by the fire that Rhona noticed she had started
again, her curves languid in her soft silk sleep chemise. Why wasn’t Maeve ready to go like Rhona had told her to be?
“We have to go,” Rhona corrected.
“No,” Maeve said, placing her hand on Rhona’s chin. “I am not going with you.”
“Yes, you are,” Rhona said, pulling Maeve into her bedroom before she began searching for a bag to pack Maeve’s things. Rhona
had never even stepped into this room, with its canopied bed and lush rugs. She looked around desperately for something she
could use to start throwing clothing into.
“Rhona,” Maeve said, walking to her. “You’re not understanding me, and I need you to.”
Rhona watched Maeve try to pick her words, a wraith in the dim light.
“They are coming for you,” Maeve said finally. “My visions changed, and I can see you get out of here, but only if you leave now.”
“Maeve, you can’t stay here,” Rhona pleaded. “It’s too dangerous. Someone will catch you and—” She couldn’t even say it; it
couldn’t happen.
“I’ve been hidden for a long time,” Maeve explained calmly. “You only know because I wanted you to know. I will be okay.”
“No. I’m not leaving without you. I will only go if you come with me.”
“Rhona, it’s not my time to leave this place,” Maeve said, placing her hand on Rhona’s chest.
“It can be if you want it to be,” Rhona begged, eyes welling with tears. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen tonight.
They were supposed to run together. Rhona wouldn’t leave the only person who had ever been truly good to her, witch or not.
“No,” Maeve said, resolute. “I still have a part to play here.”
“Then so do I,” Rhona doubled down.
“No,” Maeve growled. “You need to find Princess Evangeline.”
Maeve’s words had a physical effect on Rhona, her world spinning before she steadied herself. The crown princess? The same
crown princess they’d burned on a pyre more than three years ago?
“She’s dead,” Rhona said, brow furrowed in confusion.
“No,” Maeve said, frustration palpable in the tone of her voice and the way she shook her head. “She isn’t, and your part
is with her now. You must find her.”
“Maeve, that’s not possible,” Rhona said. “I think your visions might be wrong this time.”
Maeve caught Rhona’s eyes, fury glittering behind them. “My visions are never wrong, even when I wish they were,” she said
firmly.
If it wasn’t Princess Evangeline . . . who had they burned beside King Arthel and Queen Mariana?
“Evangeline is alive,” Maeve said. “I hadn’t looked for her in my visions for years because I was there that day. I saw her
burn beside her parents. I thought she was dead, but Rhona . . . my visions, they show you and her . . . and two others. One
of them, I swear, is the viscountess, but she’s less prominent in the flashes I saw, so it’s hard to tell. Rhona—” Maeve grabbed
Rhona’s hand, pleading. “You have to go. They’re coming, and your window to get out is closing. Please, I can’t lose you.”
“I can’t leave without you.” Rhona couldn’t do it, her feet rooted to the ground where she stood. She had finally found someone
who wanted to be around her, who trusted her, and she was supposed to just leave her here in danger? It went against everything
Rhona believed in.
“Then you will die, and you’ll never see me again. Please, Rhona. Go to the princess, and I promise I will do my best to bring
us back together,” Maeve begged.
This wasn’t what Rhona wanted. She wanted to make the Iron Empire better, she wanted to stop Dr. Balet and save the people
in that damned testing dungeon, and if she didn’t leave she would just become one of them. Dead but alive, unable to do anything
but the bidding of those around her, no feeling. No anything.
“Fine,” Rhona whispered. “Fine, I’ll go.”
“Thank you.” A tear rolled down Maeve’s cheek. “It’s for the good of Astra.”
“Where, though . . . where do I go?” Rhona asked, hating this. Every fiber of her being wanted to stay, even as every logical
part of her brain knew she needed to run.
“She’s somewhere warm in the vision . . . I think Corisia. It looked like Corisia.” Maeve looked to the door, panic in her
eyes.
“You have to go,” she continued. “There’s less time for you to get out than you think.”
Rhona grabbed Maeve and kissed her again before pulling away. “I will come back,” Rhona said.
“I know you will. I’ve seen it,” Maeve said, knowledge and certainty and truth ringing in her statement. The witch had seen
more than she was telling Rhona, but Rhona trusted that she was telling her what she needed to know now.