Chapter 31
Allie
“And go where, Dax?” I asked, trying to keep calm.
It was so easy to just launch ideas and not bother with the logistics of making them a reality.
“Aquila, obviously,” he said.
I sighed, letting go of the stones before I threw one out the window. “We both know that’s not possible now.”
“Take control of the army and it will be. We can leave right now, you know the way out–”
“The exit is filled with traps–”
“Then take your Commander along with us.” He narrowed his eyes. “He might be a pain, but I’m pretty sure he would support you taking your Clan back.”
He would. I knew that without a shadow of a doubt and felt it in my bones–which made the situation between us that much more unbearable.
But he knew one detail Dax didn’t.
The crown.
“This isn’t about him,” I said.
“Are you sure?”
I curled my lip. “Yes.”
Even if Ryker and I wouldn’t have been trapped in painful uncertainty, if I would have been able to reclaim Aquila, with his speed, the distance wouldn’t have been a problem.
But that wasn’t the reality we were living in.
“Then why? Because I can’t think of any other reason we’re freezing our bones off to stay here.” He grimaced at the crate and the parchments, voice rising. “We’re wasting our time with rocks and paper, when true power is literally in your reach. You were raised for the throne–”
“Dax.” I closed my eyes again and breathed in. And out. And in. “Silas has–”
“Screw Silas. What are we doing here, Allie?” he yelled. The limits of his patience had finally been breached. “This isn’t our home. I don’t care what the Council says, this is enemy territory and that fucking wedding proved it. We can go over the ledgers anywhere else in Malhaven.”
“Not safely. Not back in Aquila,” I said, just as fiercely. “Here, we can sleep at night without fearing a dagger to our throat will wake us up. If we wake up.”
“You heard Dara, our family’s secret island is vacant–”
“The last time we stepped foot on an island, my father was murdered. Forgive me if I no longer trust Protectorate territories. Any of them.”
I heard the venom in my voice. I told myself to be glad of it.
“Why?” he asked. “Why do you insist on staying here? You don’t owe these people anything–”
“You weren’t here!” I snapped. “None of you were! The last time I left the crater, the man who’d carried me on his shoulders tried to strangle me.”
His hands fell to his sides. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I’m sorry I didn’t kill Orion before he had a chance to do that.”
“It’s not just that.” I licked my lips, the defeat and remorse in Dax’s tone softening me, too.
Enough that I was ready to ask the question we’d been skirting around since he’d arrived.
“Can you honestly tell me that every single soldier in that Protectorate army would follow me by their own will, if not for the crown?”
Dax remained silent.
“That every civilian in Aquila–or at least most of them–would welcome me back after all the lies Silas has spread?” I pressed.
I wanted him to tell me I was wrong. That I was imagining how grim the situation truly was and that, yes, of course, I’d be greeted with open arms and allowed to defend my Clan.
Instead, Dax clenched his jaw. “Betrayal and cowardice are the gravest sins in the Protectorate. If they think you’re guilty of either, let alone both–”
“I’m not.”
“I know,” Dax said patiently. “And a lot more people do, but whatever supporters you have–those who were at the wedding that day and saw you rush through that maze trying to save us all, most of the trustworthy Sentinels–they’ve all been driven away from Aquila.
Silenced. Forced to hide. There’s nobody there to contradict Silas’ lies. ”
“What about the past?” I hissed. “What about the negotiations, the lost nights?”
He sent a sad smile my way. “People forget fast.”
“Then that’s their problem.” Even as I said it, the words tasted like ash in my mouth. “There are thousands of them and one of me. If they want to support Silas–”
“They don’t know any better–”
“They should!” I bit out, shocked by my own vitriol.
“They’re afraid–”
“Are they?” I bared my teeth. “They haven’t lived with the fear of the army turning their weapons against the civilians.
Or being thrown into prison because they said something the First Family didn’t like.
Our Clan has never used brute force to cower the people into submission.
This is not fear, Dax. They’re expecting someone else to fix their problems, like always.
They’ve been accustomed to the First Family shielding them and even though some might hate Silas more than me–or will soon, because he will destroy Aquila through sheer ineptitude, if nothing else–they still expect someone else to give the command for them to do something. ”
“That’s what leaders do.” Dax’s gaze darkened. “We shoulder the responsibility so they don’t have to.”
“They can’t curse my name and expect me to save them at the same time.”
“You were raised for this.”
I shook my head. “Stop saying that.”
“It’s true! You were!” His nostrils flared. “And you were good at leading us even when Alaric was alive. Your only mistake–”
“Oh, please, tell me all about the myriad of mistakes I made while trying to keep everyone happy.”
“You didn’t take credit for everything you did,” he said, softer. “The civilians knew you were fierce, but you didn’t let them see how selfless you were. You solved problems nobody even knew existed. They have no idea what you sacrificed for them.”
“I did what had to be done,” I seethed. “I didn’t do it for glory.”
“That’s the problem. Silas can’t shut up. About how you ran away at the first arrow and left your father for dead–”
I hissed a breath. My powers bubbled to the surface, ready to snap.
“–and were too ashamed to face your people, so you negotiated an arranged marriage with our sworn enemies, the Blood Brotherhood.” He gnashed his teeth. “And you don’t do anything to contradict those lies.”
“Don’t.” My voice slashed through the room. “Don’t blame me for this.”
“It’s not your fault we’re in this mess, but we’re the only ones who can fix it. Why aren’t you getting that?” His hands shook with frustration. “I risked my life to bring you the crown–”
I closed my eyes, more shame flooding me. He had. Dax had traipsed through the entire continent, strapped wings on his back, and flung himself into a dangerous crater to reach me.
From his perspective, he’d endangered himself only for me to dismiss his efforts and his pleas.
If the roles had been reversed, I would have yelled much sooner than he had. It seemed even Dax had more patience than me.
“And I am grateful.” I licked my lips, throat burning. I had to tell him. He didn’t deserve to be tormented with hope. “But–”
“Are you? Because you keep dismissing me every time I mention it. And I know you hear me when I ask.”
“I know.” I forced myself to remain calm, though my heart shook, the truth pricking the tip of my tongue. “It’s more complicated than–”
“Than what, Allie?” He threw his hands in the air. “Stop letting the rest of Malhaven rip us apart, get back some of that famed courage you seemed to have misplaced, and put that damn crown on–”
“The crown didn’t accept me!” I screamed, finally uncaring who heard.
Dax’s face went slack. The hope melted from his eyes in the same way it had for me on that awful night.
“That’s right,” I said bitterly, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. “It doesn’t think I’m worthy of wearing it. I can’t lead the Protectorate army even if the soldiers would follow me.”
“That’s impossible,” he said, stunned.
“It’s not.”
“It has to be.” His chest shook, eyes widening with fear and denial.
Ryker, the only other person I’d shared my humiliation with, had believed me instantly. My own cousin didn’t.
He kept shaking his head, as if that would somehow change the reality he now had to live with.
“It’s impossible,” he said again. “Grandpa Constantine picked you as the heir.”
“The crown doesn’t care.”
“You’re wrong. You have to be.”
Whatever dregs of composure I’d held on tightly to finally snapped.
Wrong.
He hadn’t meant it that way, still staring at me with stubborn hope, but I felt wrong.
Flawed.
Unworthy.
Under his incredulous gaze, I marched to the tall wardrobe, yanked its door open, ripped the slab of wood I’d cut into its base, and pulled the crown out for the first time since I’d dared place it on my head.
My hands shook as I held it up, like I was undeserving of even touching it. But those same threads of recklessness that had made me jump on the dining table and smash glasses burned through me now.
It made me want to howl all the pain I tried to conceal, for the entire world to see.
I marched right up to Dax and placed it on my head with shaky hands. Its weight felt heavy and mocking.
“Do you see any glow?” I asked through choked tears.
“What are you talking about?” Dax whispered, as if afraid he might push me further past the edge.
“The crown has symbols on its middle spire that light up when it accepts the heir.” I pointed my finger at the metal as if I wanted to slash it in two. Sacrilege, but I was in a sacrilegious state of mind. “Do. You. See. Any. Glow?”
Dax shook his head, caught somewhere between shocked and shattered. He even averted his gaze, staring down at the floor, as if he couldn’t look at me anymore.
I told myself it was because of the shock, nothing else–but I didn’t believe it.
The ugly, incredulous silence that followed left me feeling foolish.
Defeated.
I yanked the crown off my head, cheeks red and eyes stinging. Whatever pride I still had had paled in the wake of that deranged display.
“Maybe it would light up for Clara,” I said when Dax still didn’t react.
Despite everything, my thumb still caressed the metal, yearning for it to react. Give me a sign and make me feel like I wasn’t wrong.
A heinous, desperate little thought I knew I should have been better than. But I wasn’t.
I was raw and sad and angry and I still didn’t know how to make myself whole again.
“Make her your advisor, not your leader. She wasn’t made to rule.” His gaze slashed to mine, unflinching and wild. “Who else knows about this?”
“Me, Ryker, and now you,” I said hesitantly.
“That’s how we need to keep it.” He took a determined step toward me. “I know I’m selfish when I say this, but you can’t abandon us, Allie.”
I frowned, the sting at the corner of my eyes burning hotter. “What–”
“Don’t abandon the Protectorate. I don’t care what the crown says.
I don’t care what lies Silas spreads. I don’t care how many Clans try to tear us apart,” he said with the conviction of a believer who’d just been proven his god was a lie.
“I honestly don’t care if you believe it or not.
You are the true Protectorate heir–and you cannot abandon us. We will crumble without you.”