Chapter 57
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
Per Tanalian law, the entrance to the Senate chambers was never locked.
Anyone who wanted to participate in the running of the government was welcome to offer themselves for service.
Coming from Earth, Aiden had thought this a charming affectation when they were researching their approach.
Normal people rarely found their way into the halls of government without extensive vetting processes after Earth’s planetary unification.
But on Tanalia, there were few requirements if one wanted to run for office.
The ruling body had been one of the most diverse in their galactic quadrant when Evelyn had signed her life away to Emil.
Aiden had hated the look on her face when she’d realized the makeup of the Senate had shifted from the well-represented mixture of Tanalian civilization to one that looked little like the world she’d left behind.
Heavy, intricate wood doors on well-oiled brass hinges opened smoothly as Evelyn shoved them both open at once, giving the moment a well deserved bit of drama.
She may not have thought she had the chops for the political arena, but Aiden suspected that Vinnie had been planting little seeds in Evelyn all her life.
She was sliding into the moment with an ease he wouldn’t have believed she possessed based on how nervous she’d been before.
Polished marble floors gleamed under her boots as she walked into the antechamber, the echo of her steps bouncing through the empty hall.
Aiden waited for the rest of their group to enter, then closed the doors behind them.
Elenor, Veselko, and Nannette took in the lavishly carved reliefs on the walls, and Aiden saw a burst of pride bloom on Evelyn’s face.
He gestured to Veselko to cut the cameras while they searched the building.
“Is it always this dead in here?” Nannette asked, glancing around.
“It wasn’t when I was a kid,” Evelyn replied. “To be fair, I was only here when specific bills required my father’s attention. Who knows what this place looks like on a normal day.”
Aiden nudged her shoulder. “Aren’t Tanalians nosey? I thought you were supposed to be representative of the planet.”
Her brows drew together as she shrugged.
“An empty Senate building was one of the eventualities that Corvinia prepared us for. It’s likely that Emil has a limited understanding of that loophole Vinnie wants to exploit,” Elenor said.
“He may think that the absence of the body would prevent Evelyn from going through with her declaration. The senators could be too scared to walk in here; who knows what they or the crowd have been threatened with.”
The clause only stated that an eligible relative enacting it had to do so in person, of their own volition.
There was not a mention of the makeup of the Senate at the time of the declaration.
Aiden assumed Elenor’s ancestors planned for this last resort option to be taken in an emergency when Tanalia had a full, functioning government, and that it didn’t need to be spelled out that the assumption was that this would be done in front of senators.
Not spelling out the obvious in legal documents was always a bad idea, and Vinnie’s plan was exploiting every whirl of that loophole.
“Point.” Nannette moved past Evelyn into the antechamber.
The Senate floor was directly ahead, behind another set of carved wooden doors that was far more impressive in person than the photos Aiden had cobbled together for his board.
Arched doorways on either side of the chamber led to assembly rooms and areas for support staff.
“I want to check the room before you make your declaration,” Nannette said, and at Evelyn’s nod, she opened the doors and entered.
She took in the rows of seats, the dais in the center of the far wall.
Behind it, a large view screen framed in gilt scrollwork was mounted.
Aiden knew she’d studied the building as extensively as he had, her familiarity with the layout apparent as she finished poking her head behind the curtains and examining the less grand doors on the other side of the room.
They were both very big on knowing all the possible choke points in a building.
Nannette opened the doors and examined the bathrooms within. Satisfied, she returned to the group.
“I don’t like how empty this building is,” Nannette said, her eyes darting back and forth between entry points. “Wouldn’t there be at least a security team in place?”
“There was nothing in the file about security,” Elenor said. “And Vinnie’s files were extensive.”
Exhaustive, more like. Aiden had spent hours poring over all these details.
He’d memorized the blueprints of every relevant building.
L.I.N.D.A. had run an analysis of the Senate chamber’s security.
It was designed to do some hardcore containment once Evelyn’s claim was confirmed by DNA, and he hated the idea of sending her into a box he couldn’t figure out how to break her out of.
It seemed to be an unavoidable feature of the declaration, but he had asked Lillian to break into Tanalian servers on her own to double-check all the data.
She’d come up empty. Aiden hated to take chances with Evelyn’s safety, and the sinking feeling in his gut was telling him that they’d overlooked something.
The whole building echoed with every small noise they made, the absence of other bodies making their tense conversation doubly ominous.
“Tanalian politics are honestly sort of boring under normal circumstances. Before the Compromise, we were at each other’s throats, but by the time I left, it was mostly petty squabbles about municipal funding for honorary benches,” Evelyn said.
They looked at her, various incredulous expressions on their faces.
“What? People get very impassioned about honoring their dead heroes.”
“Heroes?” Veselko asked. “Aren’t you pacifists?”
“Heroes, yes. Poets, actors, scientists. You can only have so many fountains. Someone’s going to get spurned eventually.”
“I have so many notes,” Nannette said.
Aiden shook his head. “Okay, moving right along. You have to go up to the dais, make your statement, and prick your finger? And then you’re queen.”
“From what I understand, only one other person has done this, but yes. Once I do, there’s a period when the current monarch can appeal to a full meeting of the Senate if he or she does not wish to abdicate, but if that doesn’t happen, then I’m queen.”
Aiden watched the teeth sink into her lower lip, the deep, steadying breath she took as she steeled herself to move forward with the plan.
And she doesn’t think she’s brave. He wished he could take all her worries and doubts away in this moment and let her see herself the way he did, the way the crowd outside did.
“Okay, here goes nothing. Wish me luck,” she said. Aiden pulled her into a quick hug and kissed the top of her head.
“You don’t need luck, dollface. You have us.”
She grinned at him, turned on the ball of her foot, and stalked to the dais.
Her footsteps echoed throughout the empty building, and with every step, Aiden could see the determination in her grow.
Veselko had turned the camera back on and was capturing her movements from the doorway of the antechamber, as close as he could get without following her inside.
Aiden murmured a few lines, explaining what Evelyn was about to do into his mic and shifted to his side to keep an unobstructed view.
She reached the platform, perpetually laid out with its ritual adornments. A gavel, a dagger, a chalice.
“My name is Princess Evelyn Alpertti, a crowned daughter of Tanalia. I hereby declare no confidence in my father, King Hubert Alpertti, a crowned son of Tanalia. I assert my right to ascension.”
Her words echoed throughout the empty room. He watched Evelyn angle her body to give Veselko’s camera the best angle down the long hallway, giving the galaxy at large an unobstructed view of her actions.
Smart of her to ensure the whole thing’s in frame. One less thing to have to defend later.
She picked up the dagger, and Aiden flinched as she ran it across her left index finger. Blood bloomed in a thin trail across the tip. She squeezed a drop into the chalice.
As the blood hit the cup, the view screen powered on.
No Confidence Protocol Activated
flashed across it. Veselko stumbled back from the entryway to the chamber as a clear forcefield activated, barring their entry and Evelyn’s exit.
He saw her flinch and raise her uninjured hand to her ear.
Her comm had likely gone dead with the barrier.
Without thinking, Aiden took a step forward and was shoved back, stumbling into Elenor.
“This was in the file,” Elenor said, gripping Aiden’s shoulder.
His hands clenched into tight fists, knuckles white with tension.
He’d known about the forcefield, but the reality of having Evelyn on the other side of it was harder for him to deal with than he’d anticipated.
Data didn’t take into account the raging instinct in his blood that something was wrong, that they’d all overlooked a very basic fact while agreeing to this crazy, irresponsible plan.
Aiden looked down the long Senate chamber to Evelyn. She had wrapped her fingertip in a tissue and was holding her finger tightly with her fist. She smiled at him and shrugged. The rapid beat of his heart started to slow. She was fine. This was fine.
Then the sardonic look on her face faded into one of horror. Her eye-line was above his head, and Aiden turned to see what was behind them that had frightened her.
Smoke had started to pour out of the vents in the ceiling above them. Thick jasmine-and-chamomile-scented plumes filled the antechamber. Aiden heard a loud thunk come from those large, never-locked doors and had a sinking suspicion they were now barred from the outside.
“Okay, that wasn’t in the files,” Elenor said.
She reached for her cravat and pulled it from her neck.
She tried to shove it over Aiden’s mouth and nose, but he shook his head and shoved her hand over her own face, yanking his tie open and unbuttoning his shirt.
He pulled his undershirt over his nose and made his way back to the barrier as his mother tapped the earwig in her ear and told Lillian that she loved her.
Evelyn had raced back down the path to stand as close to the forcefield as it would allow her to.
He watched her reach out gently, knew she was assessing its energy field.
She closed her eyes, and Aiden watched her press against the barrier.
He winced when it threw her back in to the Senate chamber with greater force than it had projected him back.
“Knew this didn’t feel right,” Veselko muttered.
He propped the camera so that it angled at Evelyn in the Senate chamber and sat down with his head against the wall.
Elenor sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder and patting his leg, murmuring through her cravat.
The smoke steamed through the room, fluffy streamers of sleep-inducing air twining through all the negative space.
Nannette ran for the doors and delivered an impressive kick to the center of one. They rattled as she slammed into them, but they stood firm, confirming Aiden’s suspicion. She kept hammering at them with her fists until she passed out, long after her legs gave way.
Aiden stood as close to the barrier as it would allow him and raised his hand to press against it.
The look of horror on Evelyn’s face was going to kill him if this gas didn’t.
Veronique was speaking in his earpiece, and he removed it to put into his pocket.
He couldn’t handle her panic at the moment, and her attempts to reassure the team were less than effective through her sobs.
“Dollface, look at me,” he said. Her big hazel eyes found his, and the guilt that shone from them was the final stab in his heart. He’d realized what they’d overlooked.
“This isn’t your fault, Evelyn,” he said. “Vinnie lies.”
The realization that she’d been betrayed was the last thing Aiden saw pass over her face before he succumbed to the gas.
Vinnie lies.
The phrase had been echoing through Evelyn’s head since Aiden had said it.
He’d collapsed to the floor in front of the barrier, one hand still stretched out toward her.
The sound his head had made against the marble had made her frantic, but he wasn’t bleeding onto the floor.
She shoved her fear aside and searched the chamber for a control panel she could force some energy into, try to short circuit the forcefield, but there was no discernible break in the smooth marble walls on her side of the barrier.
Evelyn had sunk to the ground on her side of the clear barricade, needing to be as close to his prone body as possible.
Vinnie lies.
Wasn’t that the first thing she’d learned when she’d walked into her house in Vegas? All her life Corvinia had been lying to her. Why had she been stupid enough to take her at face value about this? She’d been too wrapped up in her own guilt and shame to think clearly, to see clearly.
Aiden was wrong. This was all her fault. Again.
Before she could really get going flagellating herself, Evelyn heard fans kick on in the antechamber.
The smoke started to clear, and within minutes, the haze that had obstructed her view of the others cleared.
Soldiers wearing Bauder livery streamed into the room, followed by two tall, imposing figures.
Evelyn recognized one of them from the view screen of the Dawn.
Pearl.