Chapter 12
Serenity
I stare at the general for a moment, not allowing myself to comprehend his words. And then they sink in. Bile rises up my throat, and I barely have time to grab a nearby trashcan before I retch.
Someone places a hand on my shoulder, but I shrug it off. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and straighten.
The general’s still speaking, but I’m no longer listening. I feel my legs buckle, and then Will is there, scooping me up and carrying me back to my room.
My entire body shakes.
I can’t go back.
“Serenity, he’s not going to kill you,” Will says as he lays me on my bed. He crouches next to it so that we’re at eye level. His gaze moves to my lips; he looks pained. “The king’s not going to kill you—or imprison you.” He takes a deep breath. “They’ve been talking about the possibility of a wedding.”
I go still. “A wedding?”
Will nods, and I can see his throat work. He closes his eyes and I see his body shudder.
“I have to marry the king?”
Will opens his eyes. “That’s what it sounds like.”
“I have to marry my father’s killer?”
His face crumbles and he looks away. “It’s better than death or imprisonment,” he says, his voice rough.
“Get out.”
“What?”
“Get out!” I scream.
Slowly Will gets up and backs away from me. “I’ll make this right, Serenity. I swear it.”
I pretend I don’t hear his words. I’m tired of promises. Of vendettas. Of posturing. Of politics and death.
Once he leaves the room, I curl into a ball and pretend nothing exists at all.
I stay in bed for another two days, shaking, sometimes rocking myself. Eventually I eat the food that someone’s left for me, one small bite at a time. My stomach contracts painfully as each piece of food enters, and I have to fight off my rising sickness. I drink some water, if only to get rid of my splitting headache.
By the end of two days, the most painful emotions have dissolved away. I still feel like one giant, open wound, but I can think through it. I can be rational. Somewhat.
So I get up, wash myself, get dressed, and head to the conference room. Not surprisingly, when I get there, the representatives are in session. I’ve rarely seen them outside this room.
The group quiets when they see me. “I’m here to cooperate,” I say, striding into the room. “I’ll do what you want for the good of the country. What do you need of me?”
For a moment no one speaks. For all their smooth words, I’ve managed to silence these politicians several times over the last few days. Then the general approaches me, and in a rare show of emotion, he envelops me in a hug.
“You are the daughter I never had,” he whispers into my ear. His voice is gruff. “I’d hoped you’d make my son happy one day.”
I wince at his words. He doesn’t know that he’s making this so much worse for me.
He pulls away. “Has Will told you anything about what’s going on?”
I glance about the room. I don’t see the general’s son; I wonder if he’s been playing hooky just like I have.
“Only that I might be …” my throat works, “marrying the king.” The words burn coming out. “Whose idea was that?” I ask.
The general’s lip curls with disdain, and he shakes his head. “His,” he says.
After I killed the king’s men, I’d assumed that if he ever got his hands on me, he’d execute me, regardless of his feelings. In the end, that’s what war is, a string of revenge killings.
But his men hadn’t tried to kill me, and they’d had many opportunities during my escape. He always wanted me alive.
I wonder if the peace agreement the representatives agreed to was the same one the king presented my father. If it was, then the man that raised me would’ve died in vain. I suppress my shudder.
The general clears his throat. “The king has a jet here waiting for you.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Why didn’t anyone wake me?”
“He gave us orders to leave you be until you were ready.”
I’m struck by two things the general has said. One, the general is taking orders from the king. For as long as I’ve known the general, he’s been the de facto leader of the WUN. It’s strange to see him abdicate his leadership role.
And two, I’m stunned that the king gave those particular orders. Had circumstances been different, I’d say it was kind of him. But I’ve come to learn that this is the king’s style—to cut you up then kiss the wounds he inflicted.
“Now that you’re here,” the general continues, “we will contact the king’s retinue and let them know you’re awake. They’ll probably have you board the flight as soon as possible once this happens; they are going to assume you’re unwilling and dangerous.”
I nod.
“Once you arrive at the king’s palace, he’s planning on announcing the end of the war and your engagement.”
I scowl at this; the thought of being engaged to him causes me physical discomfort.
“It sounds like there are already wedding preparations in the works,” the general says. “It’ll be filmed and aired over the Internet—the thought is that the wedding will symbolize the marriage of two hemispheres. It’s quite brilliant, actually—it should go a long way to encourage peace.”
“Don’t,” I say. My breaths are coming out quick and ragged. I can’t bear to hear more on the subject.
The general puts a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll be okay, Serenity. The asshole actually seems to care about you.”
My eyes flick to the king. “Don’t lie to yourself, General. I’m marrying a monster.”
Will and the general lead me up to the surface. They’re the only ones I allow to accompany me. We reach the top of the final set of stairs, and I stare at the door to the garage. On the other side of it, the king’s men wait for me. These are my last moments with the people I know.
I reach for the door and pause. “What will happen once I’m gone?” I ask the general. I’ve wanted to know the answer to this question since I left my bed. I knew my fate, but I knew nothing about what would happen to the WUN and its former political leaders.
The general gives me a sidelong glance. “The western hemisphere, under the governance of the king, will begin to receive medical relief in those areas that need it the most. There will also be additional efforts to cleanse the land of the radiation that’s gotten into the soil. After that, the king’s focus will then be rebuilding our economy.”
I fidget. “What will happen to you and Will and the rest of the representatives?” I ask.
“The king has granted us amnesty and allowed us to continue to govern these territories under the supervision of his men.”
I raise my eyebrows. “That’s … really good news.” We’d always planned on being executed if we lost the war. I’m still not convinced that won’t happen. After all, there are no checks on the king’s power.
The general nods. “It is. The peace agreement is better than we’d ever anticipated—or hoped for.”
I shift my weight. We’ve come back to the elephant in the room—that I’m leaving because of the agreement.
The general must realize how callous his words sound—spoken to the one person who will lose everything—since he takes a step back. He looks between Will and me. “I should let you two have your own goodbye.” The general salutes me. An unbidden tear drips from my eye as I give him a small smile and salute him back.
Will and I watch him leave, neither of us willing to speak until his footsteps completely fade.
Will steps in close to me and cups my cheek. “It was never supposed to be like this,” he says.
I wrap my hand around his wrist and lean into his hand. “A lot of things were never supposed to happen like they did.” I close my eyes. I might never see Will again. That thought constricts my heart, and I have to force the thought from my mind. My body can’t take much more emotional pain.
He leans his head against mine; I can tell by his ragged breathing that he’s trying to keep it together for my sake.
“If this is the last moment we get, I want to make the most of it,” I say. One final memory of the man and the life that will never be mine.
Will nods against me, his hand sliding to the back of my head. He presses his lips to mine, and our mouths move urgently. I’m memorizing the taste of him even as I’m saying goodbye.
When his lips finally leave mine, they move to my ear. “You have to kill him, Serenity.”
My body goes rigid against him. “You work for the king; you can’t say things like that anymore,” I whisper.
“The Resistance—those people who saved you—they will spread to the western hemisphere. Once they do, I’m planning on joining,” he says.
“And what do you hope to accomplish?” I ask. The war is over; we lost. The best any of us can do now is make the situation as bearable as possible. I’m not sure that killing the king would actually make the world better, or if it would just open the position to all the other power-hungry people out there.
“No one man should have that much power,” Will says.
Silently, I agree with him, but it doesn’t change the fact that the king might be the world’s best chance at getting back on its feet. More fighting will only prolong our suffering.
“And what happens once he’s dead, huh?” I ask. “They’ll kill me too.”
Will shakes his head. “No, they won’t. We have the footage of your arrival still, remember?”
My skin prickles. I don’t know whether this discussion fills me with fear or excitement, but I do feel my mortality in that moment. I’m certain I’ll die before my time—not that I’d ever believed otherwise.
I back away from him and grab the handle of the door. “I’ll think about what you’ve said.”
“Do.”
“Bye Will.”
He tips his head. “Goodbye my future queen.”
As soon as the aircraft leaves the ground, the king’s men relax. Not completely, but they’re not encircling me the same way they had been when they picked me up in the bunker’s garage.
One of them has my gun; he took it off of me when they patted me down for weapons. I keep my eye on him. I will kill for that gun. It’s the last piece of my father I have.
I glance out my window and watch my homeland get smaller and smaller. This high in the sky, the land looks beautiful. You wouldn’t know that the earth is poisoned with radiation, and its people are desperate, scavenging things.
I don’t know when I’ll be back here, if ever. It feels like a final goodbye. There’s nothing much that I’m leaving—a few final friends, my past, my old way of life.
I can feel the wary stares of the king’s men. Their animosity practically rolls off of them; I meet their gazes and give them each a slow, predatory smile. It pleases me to see the lines on their faces deepen. They’ve either seen me kill their comrades, or they’ve been warned.
It takes me a few minutes to realize that I’m causing them pain to feel better about my own. Once I do, I close my eyes and lean my head against the window and let myself nod off to sleep.
The sensation of falling wakes me up. I look out my window and see the rosy light of dawn as the jet makes its descent. When I look down at the scenery, I suppress a gasp. Small islands dot the blue expanse of ocean.
“Where are we?”
No one answers me. Big surprise.
As the aircraft descends and we draw closer to the small islands, the scenery comes into focus. It’s not quite arid, but not quite tropical either.
A larger landmass looms in the horizon. I know in my gut this is my destination. The jet passes over it and circles back. I can see a small airstrip ahead of us. And then we’re landing.
Once the aircraft coasts to a stop, I stand, ignoring the way the guards tense as they fall into form around me. The sick part of me enjoys how skittish they are.
The engine dies, and the jet’s stairway is lowered. The guards ahead of me begin to move, and I follow them out. This is the second time I’ve arrived on enemy soil. And it is still that. To everyone else, the war might’ve ended, but it never will for me. Not so long as I live with the king.
This moment reminds me of a story my dad told me a long time ago. There was once an ancient battle, fought for ten years. The Trojan War. At the close of it, the Greeks, on the edge of defeat, surrendered and left in their place a huge wooden horse—a gift to their victorious enemies, the Trojans. Little did the Trojans know that waiting inside the wooden beast were Greek soldiers.
The Trojans brought the horse into their walls and celebrated their victory long into the night. Once the Trojan citizens had all drunk themselves into a stupor and gone to bed, the Greek soldiers left the horse and slaughtered the enemy. They won the war this way.
The king has only demonstrated his excellent talent for destroying things, but scant few at rebuilding the world. And now that the war is over, he’s let the enemy into his house.
Perhaps Will is right and the king needs to be destroyed once and for all. I smile grimly. Perhaps I will be his Trojan horse.