Broken Crowns (15 page)

I nod. “The prince told me to find her when I returned home. Whatever her plan is, she needs my help. And I will help. For Internment, and to make sure she's safe. It's just . . . unfair.”

“I know,” Basil says. He puts his arm around me, and I lean against him. “Prince Azure knew what he was doing when he convinced King Ingram to send you back home. He knew you'd be just the one to help.”

“What a foolish idea,” I say. “Pen is the genius. Why me?”

“Pen is a logical thinker and a problem solver,” he agrees. “But you've got a cooler head. You care about people.”

“I've been told I'm diplomatic,” I say, mockingly.

“You are,” he says. “It's one of my favorite things about you. Don't undersell yourself. You're here to do something important.”

“Oh yeah?” I look at him, and I'm startled by the sincerity in his eyes. “And just what is that?”

He tucks a bit of stray hair behind my ear. “I don't know,” he says. “We'll see.” There's a bit of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. He's worn this expression since we were children, whenever he had something kind to say to me.

“I don't understand you,” I say, my voice nearly a whisper. “I cause you nothing but trouble, but still, you just—love me. Why?”

He tucks my hair back again, and this time he keeps his hand at my cheek. “Don't know,” he says. “I'm out of my mind, I guess.”

I lean closer. “Me too,” I say, and I see his eyes close an instant before mine, and then I'm kissing him.

I can feel the rumble of the jet in my bones, and smell the fresh cut grass that spluttered from the blades on the ground, and I can hear the songstresses chirping outside the open window. He's everywhere and nowhere, his fingers moving down the length of my arm.

I forget about Princess Celeste and Prince Azure and the painfully desperate eyes of the people at that party. I forget about untrustworthy kings and spinning round planets, and I know that of all the places, and of all the people in this world and the one below, I am right where I'm meant to be.

Somehow, one of his hands has made it to my thigh, and I feel the fabric of my dress moving up and up as he knots the fabric in his fist.

“Basil?”

He kisses my jaw, and then right under my ear. “What?”

“I want to be honest with you.” My dress has reached my hip and I roll my head back. He kisses my neck, and I wrap my arms around his neck to draw him nearer still. And suddenly I'm afraid to speak, afraid to ruin whatever has brought us to this moment. We have both lost so much and stand to lose so much more, but we still have each other, and maybe that's the only thing left that's certain.

“Honest about what?” He draws back just enough to look at my face. “Is this too much? Do you want to stop?”

“No,” I say. “No, I want this. But you might not, after you know what I've done.”

His hand is still on my thigh, and I'm sorry that I've said anything, that I may have put a halt to things. But no, he should know the truth. “I kissed Judas,” I say. “Or—he kissed me, but I didn't stop it.”

It's as though he has just absorbed a punch. His eyes are dark. “When?”

“Months ago, on the ground, right before the jet took off for the first time.” My skin feels cold where he was kissing me.

“Do you love him?” Basil asks.

“No.” I shake my head. “And he doesn't love me. That's not what it was.”

He sits back, away from me. “What was it, then?”

“I don't know,” I say. “It isn't about love on the ground. People our age just don't think that way. It's all about—about just being in the moment.”

“Yes, I've been to the ground,” he says. “I know that they all live without consequences down there. I've seen how that kingdom is run. But I assumed we were different.”

“Better, you mean.”

“Yes, better. I thought our way was better. I thought you agreed.”

“We aren't better than anyone, Basil. Look at our king. He's no better than theirs.”

“I'm not talking about kings,” he says, and his voice is frighteningly low. He's never been so angry with me. “I'm talking about you and me.”

“You asked me if I wanted to take off my ring,” I remind him. “You said, ‘You can call what we have a betrothal, or not, but I'll still be here.' ”

I know he remembers. It was after the bombing at the harbor, and I'd just said I loved him as we walked past the charred remains of Nim's car at the fire altar.

“You said it,” I tell him, desperate to wipe that look of pain from his face. “You said you'd still be here.”

He stands and paces to the window. Maybe he'd walk away if he thought he could get out the door without being accosted by guards. “You didn't tell me for months. Part of you must have wanted him. Even if it was just one kiss, he's lived on in your mind, in secret, for all these months. You must have been replaying it over and over.”

He knows me better than anyone else could. Better than even Judas could. And he's right. My knees are shaking. “You're right,” I confess. “All my life I've known what to expect. Lex couldn't take it. He went too close to the edge, and even after I saw what happened to him, even after all that pain he suffered, I was jealous, because he did something brave. He broke an important rule that our world had laid out for him. Not a lot of people do that. I wanted to do that, and I was afraid. Even after we left Internment, I told Pen over and over that I was going to marry you, and I tried to keep her from drinking too much, and I was polite, and I was still living my life according to these rules.”

My voice cracks. “And then Judas kissed me. That was the one thing I never expected to happen; I never saw myself kissing someone other than you. I didn't think I was capable of something like that. It surprised me that I was. And yes, I wanted it for myself. Not Judas, not even the kiss, but the bravery of it.”

“Well, I'm truly glad you got to experience your rebel moment,” Basil says bitterly.

“I wanted to share it with you,” I say. “Basil, please. I want you to understand.”

“You can't share it with me,” he cries, turning to face me. “That's the whole point!”

I look at my lap. Tears are blurring my vision. “I'm sorry.” I shake my head. “I can't undo it.”

“Would you even want to?” he asks.

After a long pause, I whisper, “No.”

“Well, at least you're still being honest.”

He turns back to face the window, and the silence between us is so painful, I can't stand it. I know that he's right to be angry, but I can't undo that kiss with Judas. I can't even bring myself to regret it.

I stare at the door and I contemplate using it. I know I can't go far. But maybe I could just sit on the other side of it, put some distance between us.

Ultimately I'm not brave enough to move. I only sit on the edge of the bed, tears blurring my view of the floor, as the silence goes on.

I don't know how long it is before a soft knock at the door jars me from my thoughts. “Morgan?” Celeste whispers. The door creaks open and she peers into the room. “Oh, I'm so glad you're still awake. I saw the light under the door.”

She has no idea what sort of tension she's walking into. Basil doesn't move from the window as she comes in and sits on the bed. She sinks back against her arms with a groan. “I've never realized what a chore all these stairs are, all my life running up and down them. Some of the newer buildings have lifts, but Papa refuses to install one here. He says it will ruin the structural integrity or some such.”

She's barefoot, and with a glance I can see how purpled and swollen her feet are.

“Where do you sleep?” I ask.

“Our apartment is up one more flight, on the top floor,” she says. “It's quite nice, actually. Mother has been too ill to leave for a year now, but she's got everything she needs up there. I've hardly been able to come down myself. I can't tell you what an ordeal it was coming back up after I met you in the plum court.” She waves her hand over her head. “But I didn't come here to complain.” She grabs my hands. “You've seen my brother, yes? How is he?”

“Travel agrees with him,” I say.

“He wasn't happy about being made to go to the ground,” Celeste says. “He's convinced that being down there so long has caused me to go mad. But as I'm sure you gathered, King Ingram forced my father's hand. He needs a prisoner. That's how he works.”

“Isn't your father worried about your brother?” I say.

“Well—yes,” Celeste says. “But the way he sees it, Azure is next in line to be king. And it's a king's duty to protect his kingdom. He should be willing to put himself in a bit of peril if that's what Internment needs.” She squeezes my hand. “But Az and I aren't planning to do things our father's way. We've got a plan that we know he'd never go for.”

“The baby, you mean,” I say.

She pats her stomach. “The baby is more of a long term plan. It'll be born of two worlds and inherit both thrones, but not anytime soon. No. In the short term, before he left, my brother and I spoke with several of the guards and patrolmen. We learned which ones were to be trusted. We've been gathering intelligence about King Ingram and the ground. In fact, that letter from Nimble was stuffed with information about King Ingram's failed attempts to refine the phosane.”

“I thought it would be all love letters,” I say.

“Well, yes.” She grins. “There was a bit of that, too. But that's neither here nor there.” She turns her head to Basil, who has been listening in silence. “This isn't all girl talk, you know. Come over and join us.”

Without a word he pulls up the footstool and sits across from us. He doesn't meet my eyes.

“You've come at just the right time,” Celeste tells us. “As much as I can trust a few of the patrolmen and guards, I can't exactly go broadcasting my condition to the city. When my condition became . . . well, more obvious, my brother began doing all the speaking with the engineers. But in his absence, it'll be your turn.”

“You want Basil and me to speak to engineers?” I say.

“Yes. Well, one engineer. He's head honcho over at the glasslands and you'll want to update him about what's going on with the ground. My father will send you there on some frivolous pretense of giving them a morale boost. He doesn't expect you to accomplish anything—it's all so the guards will have something positive to report back to King Ingram. But really, I've already arranged for you to speak to the head engineer. He'll tell you his plans, and then you'll report back to me.” She bounces in her seat, and I wish I had the optimism to mimic her enthusiasm. “It's all very covert.”

There's a sick feeling in my stomach, and I know the answer even before I ask. “Who is the head engineer?” There are several engineers, but there's one in particular who seems to be in charge of things, and whom I know to be brilliant, the way that his daughter is brilliant.

“That's the best part,” Celeste says. “You've been acquainted. The head engineer is Nolan Atmus—Pen's father. He's a genius, of course. Several years ago he played a key role in the refining system that Internment uses to this day. He found a way to mine our soil more efficiently, so that we no longer need steam power. I can see now where that girl gets her brains, but I wish some of his diplomacy had rubbed off on her.”

“Diplomacy,” I echo hollowly.

Basil catches my grim tone, even if Celeste doesn't, and he raises a brow at me but says nothing.

“Listen to me going on,” Celeste says. “I swear I haven't been this chatty all these months. Things up here have been looking rather grim.” She smiles, and I can see how worn she truly is. “It's so good to have you back.” She gives me a hug before she leaves. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day.”

The door closes, and I can hear her shuffling up the steps. Every little sound carries within all these stone walls.

Basil is watching me. I told him about Judas, the secret that's been nagging at me for months. But I won't tell him about Pen's father and the monster he truly is; that secret is not mine to tell.

“I'm going to sleep” is all I say. I move to the changing screen and change into the nightgown that's been laid out for me. I leave the dress rumpled on the floor, and without another word I climb into bed and close my eyes.

It's a long while before I feel the weight of Basil getting into the bed beside me. He turns off the oil lamp.

We maintain our distance, and eventually, somehow, I'm able to fall asleep.

All morning,
I think about Alice. I've known her since the day I was born, and she has been in love with my brother all that time. Miraculously. He isn't an easy person to love, and I know that. I've seen the way that they argue, and it's always his fault, but it always gets fixed.