Queen

“Our story’s believable,” I said firmly. “Theirs isn’t.”

Silence lingered between us. He stared at me, and pinned by his unwavering gaze, I felt more exposed than I had in front of the camera that broadcast my face to millions. “Do you understand how perception works?” he said at last.

“I’m not an idiot,” I said, though I regretted the words the moment they left my mouth. Predictably, Knox’s eyebrow shot up, and he smirked humorlessly.

“Depends on who you ask, which is exactly my point. To us, the truth is obvious. Lila is being blackmailed. She doesn’t believe a word of what she’s saying. But to others, especially those who don’t want a war—who are content with their place in society and refuse to acknowledge the cruelty committed against the lower ranks—they see what they want to see, and they’ll eat up anything that affirms their beliefs. Daxton knows that. He may not be a VI, but he knows how to manipulate the public—something he learned from Augusta, possibly, or perhaps it’s an innate talent that made her choose him in the first place. And while we know how, too, he got there first. It’s harder to disprove a lie than it is to tell people the truth from the beginning.”

“Then we stick to our story,” I said. “We don’t pander or tell the country what they want to hear. We tell them the truth, over and over if we have to. Daxton will slip up eventually, or Lila will find a way out. Whatever he’s holding against her—”

“She’ll still be responsible for the deaths of countless people.”

“And so will you.” I crossed my arms tightly. “We’re all going to be responsible for whatever happens next, so we better make sure things go our way. Lila isn’t the enemy. She’s never been the enemy. And if that’s how you decide to start treating her, then we will lose every inch of support from the people that we’ve gained since the battle, and we will eventually lose the entire rebellion. Sacrifice a pawn to win the war, remember?” I shot. “The pawn isn’t always a person. Sometimes it’s your damn pride.”

Knox stared at me, his jaw clenched and his fingers digging into the arm of the couch. For a moment I thought he might lash out at me, but if he had any desire to do so, he managed to swallow it. Instead he said in a shaky but measured voice, “If you want to protect someone who’s trying to get us all killed, then you better make sure she doesn’t succeed. Whatever happens as a result of her words and actions—that’s now on you, is that understood?”

“Just add it to the list,” I said. “I didn’t kill Victor when I could have—that’s on me. I told the Blackcoats the truth about him being Masked—that’s on me, too. Lila’s just another drop in the bucket.”

“Until millions of people are dead because you have no idea what you’re doing,” he said. “Must be a hell of a bucket.”

“You know what would be great?” I snapped. “If you could stop treating me like a problem for five minutes. I’m not completely useless, you know. You never would’ve taken over Elsewhere if I hadn’t helped.”

“Debatable,” he said coolly.

“Seriously doubtful. Either way, doing it your way has gotten us here—with the supply lines cut off, and with thousands of people on the verge of anarchy, ready to hang you by the neck and flay you alive because you can’t feed them. And I just bought you a few extra days.”

“What do you want, a medal?” he said. “If they come after me, they’ll come after you, too.”

“Probably. But now we have a little more time to make sure that doesn’t happen, don’t we?” I headed toward the archway. “If you could give those speeches yourself, you would. But we both know you can’t, so that’s why I’m here. To give a voice to the rebellion now that Victor controls your first pick. Like it or not, you need me, Knox, and the sooner you realize it, the easier this’ll be for the both of us.”

He was on his feet in an instant, and he crossed the room faster than I’d seen him move since the battle. Grabbing my arm, he stared down at me, his skin hot against mine. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d willingly touched me, as if he were trying to deny that I really existed, and I told myself that was why I didn’t immediately pull away from him. Because it was nice to be acknowledged.

“You want to be more than a pawn?” he said. “Then be useful. Start figuring out how to keep the promises you’re making to the people. If you were still one of them, what would you want on the other side of this? What does this ideal world of yours really look like?”

I glared at him. “If you don’t know how to give the people their freedom, then why are we doing this in the first place?”

“Because people like you do,” he said. “I can win us this war, if you’ll let me. That’s my place in all of this. Yours could be so much more if you stopped fighting me all the time and started thinking of solutions.”

“Then stop pretending I’m incompetent and give me that chance,” I snapped.

“Stop acting incompetent, and I will.”

Yanking my arm from his grip, I muttered a curse under my breath and stormed out of the room, making my way out the front door and into the frigid winter air. The days when Knox and I saw eye to eye were clearly over, and never in my life had I been more aware of how easy it was to believe in the same principles, yet not be on the same team. I wanted to be on Knox’s team. I wanted to be on his team more than anything in the world right now, but he refused to let me.

Maybe Knox felt the same way about me. As I marched down the muddy main street of Elsewhere, past men and women dressed in orange and red jumpsuits, my gut twisted, rejecting the thought. I wasn’t completely unjustified, and after all, despite his many good qualities, Knox had never been the understanding or forgiving type. But from where he stood, I knew damn well I’d been a problem. Although Lila had copped an attitude, she had always done what he and Celia had told her to do, nearly losing her life as a reward for her cooperation. I was the one always questioning him. I was the one refusing to do what he told me to, because I was sure I had a better way, and he wouldn’t tell me why it wasn’t acceptable.

And though I’d listened to him upon occasion, I usually did what I wanted to do, never mind what he thought. Time and time again, throughout the months we’d known one another, I’d gone against his wishes. Most of the time, things had turned out all right, though he’d often had to scramble to fix whatever problems I’d caused in the process. But that was what our relationship was like: I caused problems, and he fixed them.

I paused in front of a burned-out shell of a building that used to be a bunk, the ruins black and charred. In all fairness, the problems I’d caused had paved the way for the progress the Blackcoats had made so far. I may not have been terribly obedient, but Knox always found a way to make the best of it, opening doors and finding opportunities we wouldn’t have had otherwise. Sending me to Elsewhere for my insubordination, as much as I still loathed him for it, had given him a reason to come here and spy for the rebellion without raising suspicion.

We were already a team, I realized. A messed-up, dysfunctional team, but a team nonetheless. And that, ultimately, was why I couldn’t leave Elsewhere. If I joined Hannah in some cottage in the woods like Knox wanted me to, he would have no one to blame when things went to hell. And blaming someone instead of taking responsibility for his own weak plans—that was how Knox kept his ego functioning. And without the belief that he alone could make this revolution happen, I was sure he would have stepped aside and let someone else handle it a long time ago.

I shook my head. It was ridiculous, but if he wanted me to try to do more, then I would. I had no idea how to form a government, or how to make good on the promises I’d made the people, but I would do my best. That was all any of us could do anyway.

“Hey, you. Hart.”

I began to turn, but someone shoved me from behind, and I stumbled into a pile of blackened wood. “It’s Kitty Doe, actually,” I said as I righted myself and brushed the charcoal off my trousers. I turned, facing the woman and three men who had me cornered. Perfect. I tightened my hands into fists, but that wouldn’t do me much good against all of them.

“Doesn’t matter what you call yourself. You’re still as much of a Hart as the rest of them.” One man, squat and with a ragged mustache, stood in the front, his lips pulled back to expose several gaps in his smile where his teeth must have fallen out. That wasn’t uncommon here. No use in the government paying for trivial things like dental work when the citizens of Elsewhere would probably die soon anyway.

“I’m an Extra,” I said. “I didn’t know who my parents were until—”

“You think we care about that, either?” The man stepped closer, his dark eyes narrowing. “Doesn’t matter who you were. Just matters who you are now. And you’re a Hart.”

A second man cracked his knuckles, and inwardly I groaned. This couldn’t be happening.

“The Blackcoats are on your side,” I said. “I’m on your side.”

“Then why do you sit up there in the manor all pretty and comfortable while the rest of us wallow in the mud like pigs?”

“You’re welcome to leave anytime you’d like,” I said.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea,” said the woman. “Let’s walk out into the wilderness in the dead of winter with nothing but the clothes on our backs.”

I gritted my teeth. She had a point. It was hard enough walking away from the life you knew when you had the ease of doing so without risking your life. “I’m trying my best. We’re all trying our best,” I said.

“How about a little incentive?” said the first man, and he grabbed my hair and shoved me to my knees. I yelped, and a heavy boot connected with my stomach, forcing the air from my lungs.

“Let go of her immediately,” demanded a deep, familiar voice, and the former prisoner hesitated.

“Make me.”

I tightened my abdominal muscles, preparing myself for another blow, but it never came. Instead I heard the click of a gun, and my attacker went still.

“Fine,” he growled, releasing me. “Worthless bitch.”

I fell to my hands and knees, wheezing as my hair fell into my face, forming a curtain around me. If I’d had the breath to reply, I would have, but instead they all slunk away without another word, their boots crunching against the frozen ground. It was probably for the best. I didn’t want anyone else to die because of me.

“You’re never going to be one of them, you know.” A gloved hand appeared in front of me, and I took it, letting my defender help me up.

“It’s not my fault my biological father was a Hart,” I muttered, wincing as I touched my ribs. Rivers, one of the former prisoners who had been lucky enough to be picked as a low-level guard, touched my chin and inspected my face. His blue eyes were the same shade as mine, and I stared back. I’d been beaten up enough in the past month that another set of bruised ribs wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it was the way they were talking, the things they were saying—that was what made a hollow form in the pit of my stomach. Was this what they all believed?

“It’s not your fault you’re a product of Daxton Hart, but it is your fault you’re up there instead of down here,” he said, glancing nervously over his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you to the doctor before they come back with friends.”

“I don’t need a doctor,” I muttered. “I need something to do.”

“You mean getting yourself beaten to a pulp isn’t enough?” said Rivers.

“I’ve been doing that for weeks. I want to help.”