Astoria knew full well she wasn't supposed to be overhearing the conversation taking place right down the hall. She wasn't going to ignore the prime opportunity though. She had quickly learned that secrets in the bunker were whispered in dark corridors during late night hours—no one ever suspected she'd be awake, no one suspected she'd actually hear them.
With a book in hand she inched further down the hall and stopped as soon as the voices were clear.
"The one human, the injured one who came in with the girl, is almost fully recovered. The doctor says by the end of the week," one of the king's advisors named Tré said.
"And the king will dispose of him then?" another named Mike asked.
"That's the plan."
"But won't she know? She sees him all the time."
"He'll be quarantined for an illness. Then he'll be pronounced dead a few days later. She'll never know the difference," Tré laughed.
"Yesterday he looked perfectly fine, and today he's suddenly dying," Mike pointed out. "She's not stupid."
"Obviously we'll let her see him. The doctor has a serum to make him appear sick."
"It still doesn't add up."
"She's lived under a rock her whole life," Tré said. "She won't know the difference between the flu and typhoid."
Mike made a sound of disapproval.
After guessing the topic of conversation had changed, Astoria opened the book to a random page and walked down the hall. Pretending to be too absorbed in the book to notice the two men, she glided right past them and flipped a page.
"Lady Victoria."
"Oh." Startled, she dropped the book and pressed a hand to her chest—it was the nerves rather than being scared that were causing the rapid beating of her heart.
Mike had already retrieved her book from the floor and was inspecting it to ensure there was no damage by the time she had recovered.
"Sorry to have startled you, my Lady," he said as he handed the book back.
"It's quite alright," Astoria replied. "I wasn't paying attention. My apologies."
"It seems so."
"Where're you off to at such a late hour?" Tré wondered aloud. "Isn't there something for the wedding early tomorrow?"
It was so casually put as if he really cared. Astoria saw the open space he left on their imaginary chess board. She'd sacrifice a pawn now and take the king later—literally and figuratively.
"I'm going to see Vaughn. I've been so busy I didn't get a chance to this morning. He must be so lonely in there all by himself. Maybe I should take him a book," she said more to herself. "I wonder what he'd like."
"Perhaps he would," Tré pressed. "Would you like us to accompany you?"
"Oh no. I couldn't ask that. You're both so important to the king I'm sure he's waiting for you right now, and I'm little, unimportant me holding you up. Please forgive me, and tell the king it was my fault you're late. I didn't mean to."
"His Majesty wouldn't mind."
Shaking her head, Astoria let her lip tremble. "I don't want him mad at me."
This caught their attention. "Why would he be mad at you?" Mike asked.
"He doesn't like me. I can tell. He's probably planning on getting rid of me. I bet Joseph doesn't really like me either."
A few tears ran down her cheeks and hit the floor.
"His Majesty adores you. He talks about you all the time, all wonderful things," Tré reassured.
"I don't believe you."
More tears dotted the floor, leaving tiny puddles in their wake.
"Why don't you come with us? His Majesty won't even know you're there and you can hear for yourself," Mike offered.
He held out an arm and Astoria slowly wound hers around it.
The three of them walked back down the hall towards the throne room. Astoria hadn't been in there since she was captured, but the grandness of the room still surprised her.
It seemed as though another family of high nobility was seeking an audience with the king when they entered. The tear tracks had been wiped away from her checks, and she forced herself to stand tall like the queen had been teaching her.
"When we discussed the arrangement years ago I had presumed it was definitive, your Majesty," the man was saying.
"I would never bind either of my sons to a arrangement like that. It was agreed upon that if Joseph had not found himself an acceptable woman to marry by his coming of age a courtship could be pursued."
"Now see here, he was already of age before she came along. I demand you call of the wedding to that foul, loathsome, devil you call a girl."
Copeland had taken it upon herself to call Astoria every terrible name a girl could think of as they were growing up. Vic and Kellin had tried to intervene, but girls like Copeland were sneaky and knew when no one was watching. Astoria had never let it bother her, but when they came from a stranger, someone she didn't know, it shook her to the core.
Backing away from the crowd, Astoria ran into someone. She shrugged out of their grip and disappeared though the door. She couldn't, wouldn't let anyone see her like this.
"Ria," Alan called as he followed her. Everything was urging him to go back in there and put a bullet through the man's head, but Alex had given him a look, telling him to take care of Astoria.
"Ria, please."
She didn't closed the door to her bedroom, so Alan stepped inside and made sure it was locked. She was shaking, mascara tears lining her face.
"None of those things are true! Why am I crying?"
"Because, Ria, you're human. You have feelings and what the asshole said was uncalled for."
"I don't want to be human anymore, Alan."
"Don't say that."
Gently, he gathered her into a hug, rocking her from side to side as he did so.
She took a shuddery breath and he pulled away.
"Now. What's really going on?"
