Their knees are touching.
The coach jostles again, only sliding them closer together. I’m sitting opposite the royal couple, knee bobbing and head tipped against the high back of my rumbling seat. This particular coach is open to the sky, as though the top half of it has been cut clean off. Several decorated carriages trail behind and before us, all draped in green banners wearing Ilya’s swirling crest.
A soft breeze ruffles the hair falling over my forehead, forcing my fingers to continually comb through it. Sun pours over us to peer nosily at the uncomfortable, silent seating arrangement. Leaning an elbow on the shortened door, I lift a hand to shield my eyes.
And she is the first thing my gaze lands on.
The sun’s golden rays intertwine with her silver hair, weaving down the short length of it to thoroughly blind me. Her body is wrapped in emerald, the fabric clinging to her hips, draping her legs—
And the knee that still touches his.
I look away, drumming fingers that wish to touch her on the ledge.
“It’s a beautiful day,” she says, out of what sounds like discomfort. “Perfect for the parade.”
“Yes, we couldn’t have asked for better weather,” Kitt agrees distantly. “Don’t you think, Brother?”
His tone changes drastically when aimed at me, now light and cheery. My eyes lift to his, finding a familiar glint of mischief in them. “Why, yes, I do love cooking beneath the sun.”
Kitt cracks a smile at that before murmuring dully toward Paedyn, “Kai has never been good with heat, you know. When we were boys—”
“All right, that’s enough,” I cut in, despite the smile beginning to stretch across my lips.
“No,” Paedyn says slyly. “No, I’d very much like to hear this story. Do go on.”
“When we were boys,” Kitt continues, his grin aimed at me, “he could barely stand to be outside for more than an hour. Any longer and he’d clutch his head, convinced that his hair was going to melt.”
Paedyn’s laughter forces me to raise my voice. “Do you know how hot my hair gets? It’s like—”
“Tar sitting in the sun,” Kitt finishes, addressing his next words to Pae. “Yes, that was the other bit he always used to say.”
I lean back, shaking my head at him in disbelief. “Plagues, is there no secrecy amongst brothers anymore?”
The king resembles the boy I grew up with in this moment. “Oh, there certainly is.”
My eyes flick to Paedyn’s smile, and suddenly, it all seems very much worth it. “That was very insightful. And entertaining.” Her smile widens wickedly. “Please continue.”
Kitt opens his mouth, but it’s my words filling the open air between us. “Kitty here once shoved a playing die so far up his nose that the royal physician nearly gave up on retrieving it.”
Paedyn’s hand flies up to cover her gaping mouth. Now it’s Kitt’s turn to shake his head at me. “You seem to be forgetting the part where you dared me to do it.”
Pae laughs, eyes crinkling in the sun as the coach continues its rattling across the cobblestones. She points an accusing finger beside her. “Didn’t you dare Kai to climb the willow back by the gardens? And he fell, breaking his arm?”
Her smile turns on me as she awaits Kitt’s answer. Except, there is none.
Kitt’s expression grows subtly grim, shifting into something slightly sharper than the smile he once wore. “I hadn’t realized he told you about that.”
“Yes,” Paedyn says slowly, unsurely. “In passing.”
“Hmm.” He turns away, looking out into the moving landscape beside us. “Was that before or after the final Trial?”
I tense slightly. Not because his tone is threatening. No, quite the opposite. The words are heavy, weighed down by something far worse than anger. And that something tears at the part of me that betrays him. The part of my heart that beats for his betrothed behind his back.
He wants to know when I shared that intimate detail of myself. And if it was while I was meant to hate her.
“Before,” Paedyn answers softly, speaking the truth but only half of it.
Kitt nods, attempting to seem unruffled with a swift redirecting of the subject. His voice sounds suddenly tired. “I see. Well, it’s safe to say that Kai and I are likely equal in our stupidity over the years.”
I nod along, hoping my fading smile doesn’t portray the sadness I suddenly feel. The Kitt I saw mere minutes ago was a glimpse of the boy I grew up with, the boy I loved before I’d even understood the meaning of the word. And I wish so badly to hold on to that familiar version of him, rip the crown from his head before it seeps into the body beneath.
Paedyn is the kink in our relationship that we can’t quite iron out. Despite all that has happened, it seems that Kitt still feels something for her. Perhaps that is why he shies away, grows distant in our presence—because he knows I feel for her just the same. Our brotherly bond falters in the face of her.
The coach rumbles down the road as we return to a more comfortable silence. By now, the scenery surrounding us has shifted from an assortment of trees to a line of grand houses. We’ve entered the higher-class section of the city, an extravagant strip that most Offensive Elites call home.
Paedyn shifts uncomfortably as we turn down the first street. Looming mansions and well-manicured shops cast large shadows over us. Several marching Imperials join our procession as we slow our pace over the cobblestones.
At the echoing sounds of clopping hooves and stomping feet, Ilyans begin to spill out of their homes. They frame the road in their fine clothing, some even holding the fliers that were scattered across the city. It’s mostly indifference on the faces we first roll past, though it quickly morphs into variations of disgust and betrayal at the sight of their future queen.
“It wouldn’t hurt to smile, Paedyn,” Kitt murmurs as he raises a hand to wave at the growing crowd.
As if shaken from her stupor, Pae nods absentmindedly before mustering a small smile. The wave of her hand is sure, but I don’t miss the trembling fingers she tries to still. I drum my own on the seat beside me; a distraction from the anger that surges whenever I see her panic. And she has every reason to.
As a traitor, she was paraded through this crowd, spit on by the mouths that now scowl at her. These were the same people who hatefully welcomed her back into Ilya on our way to the castle. She was humiliated on these very streets, degraded by Elites who loathed her the moment they discovered she was not one of them.
And, even now, they do the same. Though, this time looks different. Paedyn is not shuffling behind my horse, bound by rope, bloody and broken. No, she sits tall in the coach, cloaked in finery, and crowned with a shiny new title. Yet, silently, they sneer at her. They see nothing but what she was—a traitor—and what she will always be—an Ordinary.
As we continue our slow crawl down the street, I sit quietly within the chaos surrounding us. My eyes stray to Kitt, looking kingly as he waves and smiles at the crowd. Adoration still fills the gazes of those around us the moment they land on him. He has always been so loved by this kingdom.
But it’s Paedyn who I study, helpless to keep from staring at her. She remains composed despite the occasional shout from the crowd. Harder still to stomach is the way Kitt continually leans against her—a show for his subjects. They are betrothed; now they must act like it.
And here I sit, unable to stop it. Unable to do anything but watch them slowly become each other’s forever.
They wave. They smile. They look every bit the happy couple.
Kitt sighs, his following mutter a spilled thought that was likely not intended for us. “So few…”
Eager to take a break from her stiff smile, Paedyn turns toward him. “What?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Kitt clears his throat. “I just remember there being more Offensive Elites out here. Must be my mind playing tricks.”
“Or they would rather stay inside than see me,” Paedyn offers between the teeth she is baring at the crowd.
I blow out a breath when we round the final street corner, and the multitude of faces begin to blur behind us. Kitt relaxes in his seat. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”
I drag a hand down my face. “Yes, it was riveting.”
Pae’s eyes meet mine, stripping me bare with a single swipe of them. Shockingly enough, I find gratitude lingering in her gaze, thanking me for enduring this alongside her. And, suddenly, the look of relief she wears at my mere presence proves to be reward enough.
“You did well.”
At Kitt’s clipped words, her eyes abandon mine to find his. “I doubt they agree,” she says with a look over her shoulder at the mass of blurry bodies. “Kitt, they will never accept me as their queen.”
I can’t seem to tell whether he liked hearing his name from her lips. “Yes, they will.” His tone is stern. “It just takes time.”
“Time?” She almost laughs. “This kingdom has been without Ordinaries for over three decades. From the looks of it, they will need much longer than that to adjust.”
Therein lies the truth of Paedyn’s motivation—the Ordinaries. What point is saving Ilya if it remains segregated? Her purpose is freedom for those like her, not the saving of a hateful kingdom.
I lean forward, hands on bent knees. “Why don’t we discuss this back at the castle? In private.”
Paedyn’s eyes lift to the procession in front of us and where exactly it’s headed. “We’re going back? Now?” Her head whips toward Kitt, hair glinting in the sunlight. “What about the slums?”
Kitt’s gaze slides to mine, uncertain. “Well, the parades always remain in the upper city….”
“But that is my home,” she says slowly. “That is where any remaining Ordinaries will be. Is this not a celebration of the union that will unite Elites and Ordinaries?” Her voice grows firm. “I took you to the slums, remember?”
“I remember you using me to discover the tunnels beneath our castle,” Kitt says coolly. “And disguising your true intentions behind wanting to show me your home.”
She grabs his hand, and I nearly flinch at the genuine movement. “And for that, I am sorry. I never wanted to use you like that, but helping the Resistance find a way into the Bowl was all I could do.” She shakes her head, voice suddenly soft. “I wasn’t a queen who could change this kingdom with the snap of her fingers. I was an Ordinary. I am an Ordinary. And I showed you a piece of myself that day. Before Calum’s council, I showed you that the people in those slums are your people too.” She slides her hand from his. “Or has power already made you forget that fact?”
I still at her words. There it is—that certain boldness only she possesses.
I didn’t get the chance to learn exactly what happened between them. Not before Kitt had locked himself away and sent me across the Scorches to find her. But I knew the betrayal ran deeper than the death of our father. And now I understand.
Kitt likely blames himself for that battle in the Bowl, for being fooled into showing a Resistance member exactly how to get into the arena unseen. He blames himself for getting swept up in her.
“You’re right,” Kitt says slowly. A sort of placidness falls over his features. “I should have known you would say that.”
My eyes flick between them, but he doesn’t look at me.
His words have horses halting, men obeying, Pae’s smile growing.
“Turn the coaches around. We are going to the slums.”
