All the Queen's Angels

Chapter 17: Fractured

Leander hasn't let me out of his sight.

We're outside in a gazebo nestled in the apple orchard eating lunch in the crisp summer air. There are textbooks strewn across the table, pages of history and geography and government and politics fluttering in the breeze. Everything is perfect: the golden rays of sun, the brilliant green grass, the purple bruises on Leander's puffed up face wrapped with an ice pack.

Perfect.

Naturally, he glares at me. He hasn't stopped glaring at me this whole time and I'm waiting for the moment his eyes roll out of his skull. We've been working on our project all week while he recovers from his "boating accident". If he revealed it was that easy to kill him, people might get ideas. Luckily, he's not too keen on doing research so he's just been sitting quietly while I do 90% of the work. I told him I think it's fun. He told me I'm insane.

In reality, the project is just a great way to snoop on Forsythian politics without seeming suspicious. I already know who the trusted families of nobles are, because they're here on this island, but they're of no benefit to the Gardenians. However, it seems the king does not trust his son with useful imperial secrets. Tonight I plan to raid the library archives on international armed forces.

"I am nearly healed," Leander says suddenly. I snort, staring at the obvious purplish-yellow bruises on his face.

"And I am nearly sane," I snicker.

"I'll be returning to Forsythia in a week to attend Laurent's funeral as planned," he continues. "And you will be accompanying me."

My smile falls.

"You wouldn't drown us both, would you?", he smiles. I stay silent, rubbing the ring.

"How long will we be gone?", I ask.

"Long enough to get you married and out of my hair."

"Lovely," I reply airily. I turn to continue my research, feigning nonchalance, when an idea forms. "Who will attend the funeral?".

Leander doesn't look up. "The imperial family and our allies, of course. My mother has requested that Amaryllis join us as well."

"How did you two meet?", I ask him, suddenly curious. I can't believe I nearly forgot this opportunity. He looks up and narrows his eyes, closing his book.

"Why does it matter—?", he starts.

"On the battlefield," General Amaryllis interrupts as she arrives. Leander tenses up as she takes a seat.

"The Forsythian troops had invaded my kingdom's territory searching for an escaped Angel. We refused to hand her over," she explains, tearing a croissant in half. I watch Leander grow more and more uncomfortable as she talks. "Forsythia didn't like that."

"It was a massacre," Leander says, eyes dark. He looks up at me for a brief second, as if to say, you're next.

"As one of the last surviving nobles, I was taken prisoner. But the Ionians are warrior peoples, and we—they would not surrender," Amaryllis continues. My eyes flick up to her. The Kingdom of Ione, an island nation of warriors, is renown for their powerful warships and submarine warfare. "Leander saved me from the gallows."

My thoughts halt. Leander? Committing an act of kindness? I look over at him.

"Through a marriage alliance," he smiles at me. Screw you.

"What happened to the Angel?", I ask. Leander's eyes darken as he glances at Amaryllis.

"She became a throne room adornment," he bites out. I nearly gag. The wings in the throne room were hers.

"What was her name?", I whisper. They both stay silent. Fine, be that way.

"Leander, I've come to discuss matters of Forsythian troops in private," Amaryllis breaks the silence. They leave me behind, but for once it doesn't matter.

I've got intel. And before Leander can remember he's supposed to keep an eye on me, I'm already gone.
...

4 hours and three textbooks, four scrolls, and eight volumes on modern warfare later, I creep back into my room to report to Ambrose.

"Et iterum ego pro vobis," I whisper, waiting. I look through my closet, choosing what to wear on my trip. Glancing at the clock, I realize it's been 15 minutes. He should be here by now. Did I say it wrong? I repeat the incantation and wait. And wait. And soon it's been 3 hours and it's time for dinner. Taking a deep breath, I head downstairs and force myself to act natural.

The banquet is lavish as usual, but I can barely taste it. Suddenly, General Amaryllis stands.

"We have received word regarding conflict on the Forsythian border," she announces. "Accounts of Fallen Ones roaming near the border have been confirmed and provincial leaders are dispatching armed forces to quell the intruders."

The rooms fills with uneasiness as I watch the young nobles turn somber. Then, the butler steps forward and calls the names of 5 people, including Daphne.

"The governess has adjusted your lessons to your parents' wishes," he smiles. "Their sacrifices will be generously compensated."

"We will report their progress to you as soon as we receive word," the general adds.

I watch Daphne's hands tremble as she takes a sip of water. A boy walks out to the courtyard in silence. Leander stands.

"I have faith in the abilities of the royal army and it's leaders. They will return to you," he promises. Raising his glass, he shouts, "Long live Forsythia, land free of heathens!".

Everyone around me stands and cheers. I simply take another bite of the steak. It's nearly raw, the copper taste of blood coating my tongue.

...

I never make it to my room. Taking the long way to avoid Leander and the general, I was passing through the hall of mirrors when someone pulled me through the glass.

The glass bites into my skin with teeth of ice, leeching into my bones like rot, and for an endless second I'm unable to breathe.

And then it melts away just as quickly and I'm left standing on a long, narrow cobblestone bridge. Thick fog swirls across the walkway, blotting out the sun, filling the endless depths below us. Through the haze I can barely make out the silhouette of black, jagged cliffs and mountains.

I turn to see the exact same view, except it's tarnished by a slightly glassy effect. The mirror barrier. A voice echoes behind me.

"We're in the Orchyd Mountains, near the Divine Border." I nod slowly, turning to face Ambrose. Then I do a double take.

His hair is disheveled, his lip bleeding, knuckles cracked, holding his left ribs and favoring his right leg.

"Were you at the Forsythian border?", I ask, my voice echoing through the vast space. He nods. My heart falls.

"They're training their kids so they can take over when the current commanders die," I tell him. Ambrose sighs and runs his hands through his hair, not meeting my eyes.

"I hate war," he says bitterly.

"You're about to hate it more," I reply, and tell him what I've learned about the Forsythian allies. He frowns and nods again, uncharacteristically quiet.

"What are you not telling me, Angel Face?", I ask, the pit in my stomach burrowing deeper. He smiles bitterly.

He simply responds with, "You need to go with Leander as soon as possible. Attend that funeral." And even though I trust this man with my life, something makes me pause.

"Why?", I ask, but he's already taking my into his arms. He just holds me, presses a kiss to my forehead, and pushes me back through the barrier.

I'm left shivering in the hallway once again, staring at the shards of broken glass littering the floor.

...

A week later and Leander, Amaryllis, Penthia, and I are all aboard the ship taking us back to Forsythia.

We sail towards the sunset, igniting the sky in a vivid, brilliant crimson.