Shatter

  “I’ve been working with the Foundation for years with the sole intent of helping people whose lives have been negatively affected by Sonoma. Until today that really wasn’t very many. A handful, but it gave me a sense of purpose. Some good I could do even as I lived my life of extreme privilege. Now? It’s going to be so many more than just Sonoma employees. It’ll be millions, Danica. Hundreds of millions.”

  He looks at Duke Spencer, who nods approvingly.

  I suspected as much—can’t pretend I’m at all surprised—but reality hurts far worse than suspicion. A single syllable is all I can manage. “When?”

  “Before the King returns.”

  “He’s coming back in less than a week!” I almost explode. “I can’t let you go so soon.” Tears are burning my eyes and I blink them back desperately.

  “We’ll wait until the night before he returns,” Lord Aaron responds. “We’ll call it a pleasure trip. Unlike you,” he says apologetically, “we’re both of age and can travel without permission.” He pauses to smile and raise his glass to someone across the room. “We’ll tell people we’re going to visit Spence’s cousins in America. Get away from the Tremains and let things simmer down and all that. Eventually it’ll become obvious that we’re not coming back.”

  “You said you’d help me. Help with Saber.” I feel betrayed, even though I know I’m being selfish.

  “I know, but this is bigger than any of us.”

  “We spent the afternoon hashing it out,” Duke Spencer says quietly. He glances at Lord Aaron. “It’s going to kill him to stay. Even a few weeks. You’ve got to see that.”

  At Duke Spencer’s words I take a good look at Lord Aaron. It’s easy to focus on Duke Spencer at this moment—the person in our group closest to Julianna, miserable marriage or not. But he’s right. I see the weariness in Lord Aaron’s eyes, the way his shoulders don’t seem quite straight. Like he’s been hollowed out and now threatens to collapse in on himself.

  “Millions, Danica,” Lord Aaron says hoarsely. “Millions upon millions. A billion over the next decade—at the very least! Languishing in poverty, homelessness, malnourishment. I can’t stand by and do nothing.”

  “I’ll never see you again,” I choke out.

  “You’re the one who promised to disappear so thoroughly, even I wouldn’t be able to find you,” he says firmly. “And I accepted that.”

  “Oh, sure,” I say with a wobbly smile. “Make me follow my own rules.”

  Lord Aaron forces a laugh, and I try to follow suit, remembering there are eyes on us.

  “What do I need to do?” I ask, fluttering my fan.

  “Make the most of the time we have left?” Duke Spencer says when Lord Aaron looks at his feet.

  I nod, because I don’t dare talk. I’m already breathing fast and shallow to hold back tears. “Of course.”

  Saying goodbye—that’s the part that’s going to kill me.

  Somehow I smile and simper my way through another hour of the party before I plead weariness and bow my way out. I even manage to listen to Lady Mei’s report that the court simply doesn’t know what to think of their new Queen. That so many still feel loyal to the woman Justin was raised to marry. It’s hard to care anymore. I walk into my bedroom and lean back on the closed doors, unable to bear the weight of my existence, much less my evening gown. My entire body feels weak with the knowledge that Lord Aaron is leaving.

  And that I shouldn’t resent him for it.

  My white knight is running errant, off to save as much of the world’s doomed and impoverished as he can. What am I doing? Hiding in a murk of my own making until I can find a way to exercise my vengeance on those who’ve wronged me. I’ve never felt so much the villain.

  “Hold me?”

  Ever ready, ever reliable, Saber kneels in front of me, wrapping his arms around my waist, squeezing. His face presses against the hard busk of my corset, but his wiry arms manage to squeeze harder than my boning. I grip handfuls of his hair and hold them trapped in tight fists as I wait for the spinning of my mind to slow. I don’t know how long it takes for my brain to calm down, but by the time I grow aware of my body again, my ribs are aching. Saber isn’t gentle. I don’t want him to be. I need that pressure, that pain. If only for a few minutes.

  “He’s leaving me,” I whisper when I find my voice again.

  When my fingers release his hair, Saber rises from the floor, his face close to mine, his arms around me as choking sobs shake my body. It’s better, this awful yawning agony. Better than the numbness I’ve used to mask it in the past. Harder. But better.

  “Who?” Saber whispers.

  “Aaron.” I never refer to him without his title. But he’s leaving that behind along with everything else. “He has to. I know that. And if he didn’t leave me, it would only be because I left him first. But…” I don’t finish my sentence. I don’t have to. Saber is the epitome of empathy. Anything that could possibly have happened to me, has already been worse for him. He knows what it feels like to be left; his whole family left him. And not to a life of pampered privilege that he was on the verge of escaping anyway.

  The thought makes me certain all over again that I’ve made the right choice, in spite of everything. How can anyone on earth deserve freedom more than Saber?

  And he won’t fight for it on his own.

  No, that’s unfair. He can’t fight for it on his own.

  In a few days Lord Aaron and Duke Spencer will be out of the King’s reach, and I’ve already sent my father to relative safety. Lady Mei has no desire to leave Sonoman-Versailles behind; in fact, she seems to actually be gaining both influence and confidence by backing me. The only person left to save—for better or worse—is Saber.

  I won’t leave until he’s safe. No matter who else has to suffer—especially if it’s only me.

  I let Saber help me undress, something we’ve both come to enjoy. It gives us a chance to talk quietly while Saber unties and releases dozens of buttons on all the intricate pieces of my gowns, and we put a king’s ransom in jewels into little velvet cases on my dressing table, as though they’re worth nothing at all. To us, I suppose they aren’t.

  “You were beautiful tonight,” Saber says, leaning in to kiss my forehead. “Your ensemble looked nice too,” he adds.

  His compliment catches me off-guard, and I blush furiously.

  “Come on, then,” he says, stripping his shirt off over his own head. “Time to sweat.”

  For once I don’t complain. The pain in my abdomen cleanses as I hold plank after plank, crunch after crunch, until I’m so exhausted even my spinning brain can’t keep me awake.

  FIVE DAYS OF good memories. Enough to chase away the ghost of one desperate, dead ex-wife. Enough to last us all the rest of our lives. I keep that thought foremost in my mind as Lord Aaron begins casting his spell, telling the courtiers of his and Duke Spencer’s upcoming trip, promising American souvenirs to his favorites. I can’t help but be reminded of the lies he spun about my make-believe honeymoon when he was drumming up Glitter orders right before the wedding. The honeymoon was always a lie…but somehow no one seems to remember his previous deception, and they fall equally hard for this one.

  Though this trip will actually happen. He just won’t be coming back.

  After a spontaneous champagne brunch, barefoot games on the front lawn, and a late-night sleepover in my chambers, Duke Spencer pulls me into Lord Aaron’s private office to transfer entrance credentials to his apartments—ostensibly for “house-sitting.”

  “With luck, the King won’t realize we’re not returning for at least five or six weeks,” Duke Spencer says an hour before the going-away soirée. A privately chartered helicopter is coming for them at the end of the festivities, when everyone will be too tired or soused to notice them slipping out. “Until then, here’s my key card, and my access codes, and if you do a quick face scan I can add that
to the front-door security list as well. Feel free to make use of anything within.”

  “Very generous of you,” I mumble, even though I’m pretty sure I’m never going to enter that apartment again. I’m fighting the irrational urge to resent this quiet person who’s as much a victim of circumstance as anyone. I know he’s not really taking Lord Aaron away—technically, he’s the reason Lord Aaron has stayed this long. But the fact that they’re running off together, directly after Julianna’s suicide, marks Duke Spencer as the catalyst in my messed-up brain.

  “He’ll be happier,” Duke Spencer says after his scanner captures my facial imprint.

  “I know.”

  “I wish this could be easier on you.”

  I shrug halfheartedly. “I wish the last two years could have been easier on both of you, but we’re not getting very many of our wishes these days, are we?”

  “Perhaps not,” he says softly.

  “Have you heard anything about that document we found on Mateus’s computer? From your contacts in America?” I ask, needing to change the subject lest I disgrace myself with tears.

  “I—it hasn’t been sent, actually. Aaron thought it would be safest to hand it off in person, since we’re going to be there. We’ll find a way to tell you what they say.” He grins. “Watch for anonymous coms, I suppose.”

  I nod silently.

  “Speaking of—here,” Duke Spencer says, handing me a scrap of paper.

  “What is this?” I ask, unfolding it.

  He hesitates, then says, “My parents’ mailbox in New York City. The lawyers who manage their business interests in the States initially kept it up because they were on so many people’s contact lists. After six months, I asked them to continue paying for it indefinitely.”

  I blink back tears when I recognize what he’s offering me.

  “It wasn’t safe for the two of you to try to maintain contact with your original plan, because Aaron was going to stay here in the palace when you left. Any communication could have put both of you in danger. But now, with all of us getting out, maybe once you’re established…” He trails off and looks down at the floor. “I’m not going to tell him I gave you that. If you decide it’s a bad idea, or if things go wrong when you leave…but it’s an option. He’d be thrilled. I hope you know how much he adores you.”

  “I do.” Duke Spencer is impossible to hate. Even as he takes away my best friend, he leaves me a little piece of hope. So why does it only make me despair? Make everything about this parting seem so much more real? “Where is he?”

  “Dressing. I told him I’d just be taking care of the nuts and bolts with you. And I am,” he says with a soft smile.

  I want to say something possessive—about how he’d better take care of my friend or there will be hell to pay—but it doesn’t feel proper. If anything, Duke Spencer is more invested in Lord Aaron’s happiness than I am. I’ve been eclipsed.

  In preparation for going back on the grid, I open a contact container and put my Lens back in so I can com Lady Mei. I pull out a handkerchief to dab at the drips of saline under my eye. “It’s a good thing I wear waterproof eye makeup,” I grumble. “I pop this thing in and out so frequently my eyelids are starting to get sore.”

  Duke Spencer is silent, graciously allowing me to fob my red eyes off on my Lens. When we exit the office Saber jumps to his feet from a small chair in the communal lobby, and when his eyes meet mine, I know he can tell there’s something wrong. His concern only makes it harder to hold back tears, so when he starts to ask, I give him a minute shake of my head.

  I turn to Duke Spencer, standing in the doorway. “I’ll see you at the ball, then.”

  “One last party,” he says with a grin, but I can’t muster one in return.

  And so it is that I am, perhaps, in a more terrible mood than usual when, as I depart the administrative wing, I nearly run straight into Lady Garcia.

  “Pardonnez, Your Highness,” she says, dropping into a deep bow. I stare at her, and all I can hear pounding through my head is Lady Mei’s voice when she reported about Lady Cyn’s friends. She’s also been much in company with Lady Annaleigh Garcia and Lady Breya Voroman-Wills.

  Without the presence of my lofty husband to either confirm or deny my words, I curl my lips into a grin and prepare to lay the groundwork for my vengeance against Lady Cyn. Indirectly, of course. “Lady Garcia.” I step forward and take her arm, turning her away from wherever she had been heading, knowing she won’t complain. “I’ve been hoping for a moment with you.”

  “Yes?” she says, clearly taken off-guard. Everyone’s jumpy after Julianna’s death. Maybe it’ll get better after the funeral. It pains me to say it, but maybe it’ll get better when the King comes back. Tyrant or not, the kingdom is used to him.

  “I wanted to speak to you about your daughter. Lady Annaleigh,” I add, as I have no idea whether there’s another daughter. If I were staying, I’d need to start memorizing the noble family trees. “I’m concerned about her.”

  “Concerned?” Lady Garcia parrots, still baffled. Unlike the Duchess Sells, Lady Garcia married into her title and doesn’t have the calm façade and backbone of steel that some of the other noble ladies were raised with.

  “I think she’s in trouble. Or, perhaps more accurately, if you don’t take her in hand, she’s going to be in trouble.” I let go of Lady Garcia’s arm and spin to face her, letting my skirts swirl out around me and looking down at the rather diminutive older woman from my at least ten-centimeter height advantage. My eyes are hard, and Lady Garcia stiffens, clearly seeing the threat. “She hasn’t been choosing her friends wisely.” I lower my eyelids. “It speaks of a family trying to play both sides.”

  Lady Garcia gasps. “No, of course not!”

  I walk very slowly in a circle around Lady Garcia. “You and the marquis are in the intimate circle of trust of His Highness. That’s why you were there”—I hesitate for effect—“that night. So you’re fully aware of how I treat those who cross me. Who cross my husband.”

  “The King cannot doubt our loyalty,” Lady Garcia interrupts to protest.

  “The King doesn’t.” I stop moving and simply stare her down. “Things are going to…get messy soon,” I say softly. “It would be a shame if Lady Annaleigh were caught in the cross fire because she held on to a friendship that’s no longer to her credit.” I take half a step nearer and whisper, “I trust you understand what needs to be done?”

  Lady Garcia gulps and nods.

  I step back and give her a gentle smile now. A confident, cajoling smile. “We only give you this warning because We’re certain you’ll make the right choice,” I say, invoking the royal We for the first time.

  “Thank you,” she whispers, the sparkling blush on her cheeks standing out, a garish pink on her now-pale face.

  “Saber?” I call, and without looking, I put out my hand and he guides it to his arm and escorts me away.

  “What was that?” he whispers.

  “Groundwork. Taking Lady Cyn’s friends away from her. Making sure she’s alone when I decide what to do to her.”

  “What to—” But he bites off his own question, leading me silently through the broad halls and milling courtiers. He remains quiet until the doors to my bedchamber close behind us, shutting everyone else out. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Doing what?” I say, pretending to misunderstand as I reach for a pair of diamond earrings. I was mostly dressed before I went to Lord Aaron’s office, but I hadn’t yet donned my jewels.

  “Moving against Lady Cyn. Why does she even matter? Especially tonight?”

  “I’m not going to do anything tonight.”

  He doesn’t dignify that with a response—only stands there, face stony, awaiting a real answer.

  I sigh and put down the earrings, turning to face him. “Saber, there are aspects of the social and political hierarchy here th
at are difficult for anyone outside of it to understand. If you don’t get it already, I don’t know how better to explain. You’re the one who got locked up as a result of her petty grudge-holding, but that’s only since you’ve arrived. She’s tortured me for years, and it’s got to stop. Stripping away her influence is the only way I can ensure she doesn’t accidentally or intentionally destroy everything I’ve been working toward.”

  Saber shakes his head. “It’s more than that. Why is this so important to you?”

  “Because she’s terrible! She’s a self-centered bully who hates me and cares nothing for anyone but herself,” I say, stuffing some tissues and lip gloss into my reticule, and not gently. “She is the worst kind of person—the kind who uses her power to crush those who are defenseless!”

  “Unlike you.”

  “I haven’t always had power. I used to have none, and she was more than happy to take advantage of that.”

  “So you’ll sink to her level?”

  Searing anger boils through me, momentarily robbing me of my voice. When I find it, it emerges sharp and hot. “I’m not like her. And Lady Cyn is hardly defenseless. After tonight, the number of allies I have in court goes down by two, Saber. And I didn’t have very many to begin with. Lady Cyn will steal others if she can.” I lean toward him, placing my hands on the back of a velvet armchair. “If I do this right, I’ll have an army behind me, and she’ll have nothing. You would have me give up and stand alone? That’s not fair, Saber.”

  “None of this is fair!” he snaps back. “If you bring fairness into this, you’d better be prepared to give an accounting of the damage you’ve already done.”

  “Don’t,” I say, pointing a warning finger at him and suddenly reminding myself of Monsieur Tremain. I let my arm drop before I can consider that comparison a moment longer.

  “Why?” Saber says. “Why not let her go on her silly, spoiled way? Why destroy her?”

  “Because despite all her efforts to prevent me from rising, I have. Because now I’m in a position to do everything she tried to prevent, and she can’t stop me anymore. Because I can, Saber!” I swallow hard and raise my chin. “Because I want to.”