36. The Card of the Choice
The Card of the Choice
I’m back in my own body. Staring up at the most beautiful brown eyes I think I’ll ever see in this lifetime. They have tears in them.
Cosmer throws his arms around me.
“Cosmos. Ara. You scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m fine. I promise.”
He lays his head on my chest.
“I thought I was losing you.” More urgently, he says, “We need to get on the ship. An engineer came by to say they’re locking all the pods now, so no one can get in or out.”
I let his heat flood through my body. Let my fingers wrap themselves in his hair. It’s what they want to do, after all. They’re aching.
To fight against my love for him would be like waging a war on myself.
But, like war, if it is inevitable, then it must be done.
I shift under him. Gently lift his head off me.
“What is it?” he asks.
My lip quivers.
“Hey,” he says, clinging to me. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
I straighten up. Wipe my eyes, which are dry, but feel raw as worn-down gears.
“Tell me,” he urges.
“We can’t go to our families,” I state. “I don’t think there’s anything left there.”
“Left where?”
“In Vikemy. Maybe even, in Hevalla.”
His brow furrows. He doesn’t get it.
“Bombs fell, Cosmer. They finally fell.”
He’s catching up. His pupils contract.
“No…”
“This was always the plan. Dezeeves and the Queen’s. He’s a traitor for her.”
He messes up his hair with his fingers. His face crumples.
“But, Eric. Our neighbours. Protcher. My mother—”
“They’re gone,” I say. “Old Mother was with me. Right until the bombs hit.” I inhale a breath that seems to rattle my ribcage. “I think it was quick for them. At least.”
His shoulders slump. “No,” he says again, chest heaving. “I can’t believe that. Can’t believe any of this.”
“It’s the truth. It’s over.”
I bring him close to me. His head fills my neck. He’s sobbing hard now. I let him come undone into me.
Around us, the ship is rocking – not its usual rise and fall, but a shaking, swaying, like a storm has come. I can hear, faintly, the sound of cannonballs. The first attacking fleet must have arrived.
Cosmer is oblivious.
My words have broken him.
And I am not even finished yet.
I brace myself for the final blow I will deliver to the man I love.
“I love you, Cosmer. And I would cheat the stars for you. And maybe, one day, I will. But right now, I need to go to The Bridge.”
His arms go slack. He studies me through his tears.
“Why?”
“There’s nothing left for me in Hevalla now my family are gone. Dezeeves plans to take the FIs to Rhavna, in The Emperor. There, in Rhavna, I will be a queen.”
He blinks. “A queen.”
“We don’t have time to go through it all now. But I believe I can end this war – and not just that. I can end the wealth and magic divide in Rhavna. Maybe even the Provision system in Hevalla. Improve life. For those of us left.”
He’s stuck on something. “Why in Cosmos would you be a queen?”
“My parents promised me to a prince before my birth. I didn’t know – or, I did, but my memories were repressed. Until now.”
He gapes at me. “But why?”
“We don’t have time,” I repeat.
Lines appear in his pale forehead. “If all of this is true, are you saying you’re really going to do that? Marry this random prince?”
I stroke my fingers over the muscle and bone of his back. This boy who almost ruined himself for me.
“All of this is true. And yes,” I say, unwavering. “I have to. Marry him. I wish things could be different.”
“Please,” he begs. “This is crazy. We can still leave. We don’t have to go to Hevalla. We can go anywhere.”
I touch my forehead to his.
“Cosmer,” I say, the tiniest fracture in my voice.
“Just know it’s you I’m thinking about. I want you to have the life you deserve, in the world you deserve.
Where you’re not either starving and washing pots, or starving and fighting in ridiculous wars.
” I whisper my next words. “You made a sacrifice for me – an incredible sacrifice.” I kiss him on the freckles on his nose. “Let me make one for you.”
I hold him a second longer.
Then I’m releasing him, and rising to my feet.
“Don’t do this,” he says. “It’s not for you to worry about countries, or people—”
“It’s for everyone to worry about,” I correct him. “And people like me most of all.”
Over by the hatch, I pull the lever to open it. It hisses as it lifts off the ground. Beyond the external walls of the pod, I hear an explosion, the loudest yet.
Cosmer is standing, too.
“Then I’ll go with you,” he says quietly. “To Rhavna.” He offers me what maybe he thinks is a smile, but it’s more a grimace. “If you’re a queen, you’ll need a guard—”
I cut him off before we can even entertain the idea. “No. I need you to be safe, away from all of this.” I arch my body. “Maybe you could go back to our village, to bury our families – and help any survivors rebuild. And then, you’re free.”
I stare at him. The low light is making his hair flame, his freckles burst. Without his leather jacket, I can see every curve and angle of his body.
He’s so perfect.
The hatch is open. I should be walking through it.
But instead, I run back over to him. Collide my lips with his. Kiss him hard, like it’s the first time again – because it’s the last.
He responds, passionately, and for a powerful moment, we’re locked like that. Like nothing could break us.
Reaching up, I pull out the ribbon from my hair. His ribbon, now. It always was. I push it into his long fingers.
“There it is,” I whisper.
And then I’m tearing away from him.
Fleeing out of the pod, I slam down the hatch door so hard it rattles. I can hear Cosmer shouting for me on the other side.
I spot the engineer with the keys further along the row. “Lock this one,” I demand. “Now.”
The metal is shaking. Cosmer is trying to lift it with the lever from the other side. I jam my boot down over the wheel of the mechanism.
“Now!” I shriek, to the engineer, holding down the door with everything I have.
The engineer scrambles over within seconds. Fits the large, rusty key into the lock, and turns it. The moment he does, Cosmer seems to realise. He starts banging against the door instead.
“Ara!” he howls in what I can only describe as pure anguish. “Open the door! Open the door!”
The door is shuddering, jangling. Every thud his fists make against it resound through my heart.
In fact, as I walk away from the door, all of me feels metallic. I’m cold. Unyielding. A sheet.
If you punched my skin, you’d hear me clang.