Serenity
When I wake up, my golden hair fanned out around me, I’m alone in the hospital room. The monitors beep and whirr.
I throw my legs over the side of the bed, the pads of my feet touching the cool linoleum. Not surprisingly, I feel like I’ve been rolled over by a tank. It doesn’t matter. I can’t take it in here. Not one second more. I’ve been either injured or recovering for the last few weeks in the hospital; I’m done being sick.
I rip out the IV drip taped to my wrist, only wincing slightly when I feel the momentary pain. A monitor next to me goes off.
Out of curiosity I lift up my hospital gown to look at my wound. Unlike the last time I was here, my body shows evidence of surgery. Clean bandages wrap around my torso. Relief floods me at the sight of it; it means that I haven’t lost days or weeks.
I pull the cloth gown back down and exit my room.
In the hallway a swarm of guards keep watch outside my door. I guess the king didn’t want to chance an attack again. As soon as they see me leaving, they try to coerce me back into the room.
“My queen, you need to—”
“The first person who tells me to rest will find themselves castrated,” I say, piercing each guard with a glare.
The guards go silent, and I smile. “I want to see the king,” I say.
“But—”
I narrow my eyes on the guard who spoke and whatever he was going to say dies in his throat. “Take me to him—that’s an order.”
I finger my spare clothes as I follow the guards through the secret service building. My arms shake; they’ve been doing that since I was told the king was extracting information from Will.
The guards glance nervously at one another. “You have my word you will not get in trouble for this,” I promise.
I can tell which interrogation room Montes is in by the cluster of officials standing around it.
A couple of them see me and try to cut me off. “My queen, you can’t—”
“I am fucking tired of hearing I can’t do things today,” I say. “Let me through or I will force my way through.”
One tries to grab me. My fist snaps out, but he blocks it with his forearm. Another closes in, pressing a finger to his ear and speaking in low tones. I know what this is—containment.
“Montes!” I shriek.
Hands are on me, and the guards that led me here are nowhere to be seen. Pansies.
“Let me go,” I snap, yanking at my arms. They won’t release me. My anger spikes; there is nothing so infuriating as being physically helpless against another human being.
The door opens and Montes walks out. “What is going on?” The moment he processes that I’m being detained against my will, his face hardens. “Let the queen go.” His voice is steel.
Hands release me, and I glare at the guards.
“Serenity, what are you doing out of bed?”
“I want to see Will.”
The king’s jaw works. “You can’t.”
There’s that command again. That I can’t. And now I’ve heard it one time too many.
I push past the king and dart for the door he’s come out of. I’ve barely managed to open the door when arms wrap around my midsection and pry me away. But not before I catch a glimpse of the viewing room, and beyond it, the interrogation.
All I see is crimson blood and all I hear are Will’s screams. The outer walls must be thick to silence such agonized cries. The king’s wrath is just as frightening as I’d always feared.
My mouth parts as I’m dragged away. “Oh God.” My words croak out. “Stop,” I whisper.
“Serenity—” The king’s voice comes from behind me. He’s the one restraining me.
“Stop!” I scream.
The king’s hand rubs my skin, as if I am a child needing soothing from a nightmare. “We need information from him,” he says.
“I don’t care.” I’m shaking all over. I’ve seen and done many horrifying things, but it’s this one that undoes me. “This needs to stop.” I’m no longer just talking about Will’s interrogation. I’m talking about war—about being a woman raised on a diet of pain and punishment. Where evil is avenged with more evil. It will never be enough to remedy the world.
The king feels me trembling beneath his hands. “You need to rest.”
“I’ll do whatever you want, Montes, just please, stop torturing him.” A tear leaks out. It’s Will, after all. I might hate what he’s become, but torture … I don’t wish that on my worst enemy.
The king sighs. “If we don’t get information out of him, then your life might still be in danger. I can’t allow that.”
“Montes,” I say, my hands clutching his arms. “Please.”
That vein near his temple throbs, and I’m sure he’s going to say no.
His hold on me drops. “Get the queen out of here.” The king eyes each one of his soldiers. “And I don’t care what threats the queen made to get here, the next time you defy my direct orders—it will be your head.”
He raises an eyebrow at me—the warning is for me as well—then he turns on his heel and re-enters the interrogation room.
“Montes!” I yell after him. The door clicks shut; the bastard ignored me.
I stare at the room as I’m dragged away. My world is completely falling apart.
The walls of this place might be thick, but they don’t muffle everything. I’m halfway down the hall when I hear a bang. My body jumps at the sound, and a tear leaks out.
Gone. Will is gone.