Of Gears and Humanity

| 25.1

[ELENA]

My father paced in front of me. He reached the tree my mother praised, then turned towards the statue of my grandfather, King Paolo. The golden monument, standing center within the castle's fountain, towered over my father as he passed under it. And as I looked at the man I never met, I thought of the stories I was told growing up; King Paolo was a wise man, a strong man, who cared for his people.

Were those stories lies, too? Is my father just like his? The Sins of our fathers are eternal.

"Elena," while under the statue, my father turned and faced me, extending his hand, "you must understand, I've always done what is right for the kingdom."

I folded my arms over my chest. My foot tapped with my impatience. I had to look away from him to keep my rage from boiling over. Through gritted teeth, I said, "You sacrifice children."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hands fly over his head. "It is because I must, Elena! Our ancestors promised the Attributions children! Infants!"

"For what?" Anger settled on each individual word. I nearly hissed them. As I turned and gave my father my full attention, heat crept into my face. My temperature spiked to keep from screaming at him. "Why do they need children to do it?"

"Hands." My father folded his hands together and wiggled his fingers as if pretending to repair something. "They need hands."

"Hands? There are adults outside our walls!" I pointed in the direction of Homestead. "I'm sure there will be the few who would willingly sacrifice their lives in exchange for this peace our ancestors placed upon the head of children!"

"Adults? Do you honestly think that they would?" My father pointed, too. "Would you?"

The words in his question were filled with such disbelief, I stepped back, shocked. How could he? "Would I?" I pointed at him instead. "Would you?"

Silence. My father's eyes widened as he looked at me. And with that look alone, I knew his answer. He wouldn't give up the thrown for his people, he wouldn't sacrifice his life.

My hand dropped to my side. "You're a monster," I whispered. "A monster, just like the machines beyond the Gate."

"No, listen to me." My father shook his head. "When you are queen, Elena, you will have to do the same thing. You will have to pick a family, pick a child—"

"No, I won't." I clenched my jaw.

"—You will try to convince the parents to give up the infant. Do you know how hard that is?" My father came closer, his hands pressed together. His brow furrowed, but there was no sadness in his eyes. There should have been. If one was to convince a family to surrender their own flesh in blood, it would be hard, yes. It would, should, destroy one's soul.

My father was not destroyed. He sacrificed one child. And tried a second time.

I closed my eyes as he continued to talk.

"It is a difficult choice, Elena. It hurts. Do you know what I have to do if they do not surrender their child?"

I opened one eye. "Seek another family? Stalk another defenseless victim?"

"No," my father scoffed. "When a child is selected, there is a reason, and it is done, Elena."

"So," I wasn't sure why I continued to ask, "what would you do?"

I just need to know Damien's life before the Attributions.

My father placed a hand on my shoulder. His head moved towards mine, close to my ear. It was as if he made sure only I heard him; we were alone. Who would hear? "We kill the family, Elena."