Queen (The Blackcoat Rebellion #3)(32)
From the inside of his jacket, he pulled out a rolled-up piece of paper. A few speckles of Creed’s blood had managed to stain the edge, and Daxton sighed. “Ah, well. Can’t have a revolution without shedding a few drops of blood, can you?”
He tipped me an enormous wink, and I clutched one of my crutches. Knox had said nearly the exact same thing to me only a few weeks before.
“A few of you may stay on as my advisers if I so choose,” he continued, addressing the Ministers, “but the rest of you will make your homes down here for the foreseeable future, until it is safe for men of your rank to return to Washington.”
“Down here?” gasped another Minister—Minister Ferras, whom I had only met once before. “But—”
Bang. Bang.
The second Minister collapsed only a few feet from me, and my stomach heaved. It took everything I had not to be sick.
“Does anyone else feel like rejecting my most gracious offer to protect you from the Blackcoats until the end of this war?” said Daxton.
No one else said a word.
Daxton sniffed. “I do hope this isn’t the end of our good relations, Ministers. It’s been a true honor.”
He unrolled the paper and set a heavy pen directly in the middle. One by one, the Ministers approached and, with trembling hands, signed the amendment granting Daxton complete power over the country. There would be no Ministers of the Union to check him now; no one to tell him no, no one to stop him from doing whatever he wanted, consequences be damned.
He waited until every one of the ten remaining Ministers had signed the paper. Then, reaching down, he dipped Creed’s lifeless finger in the pool of blood, pressing it against the document, as well. Once he had repeated the process with Ferras, he squared his shoulders and smiled like a cat assessing its prey. “There we are. I’m so pleased we’re in full agreement.” Rolling it back up, he tucked it into his pocket. “Now come, Greyson, Lila, Kitty—it’s nearly time for lunch. I’m famished.”
The idea of going anywhere with that murderous monster made me lose any appetite I might have otherwise had, but Greyson and Lila stood, and I reluctantly followed. A dozen guards remained in the room—to wrangle the Ministers,I assumed—while the original pair positioned themselves firmly between us and Daxton. To act as human shields, maybe, but I was having a hard enough time keeping up, and Greyson and Lila clung to one another in fear.
“You do enjoy duck, don’t you, Kitty?” Daxton called over his shoulder as he headed toward the elevator. Another pair of guards joined him, this time leading the way. “I couldn’t remember. If you’d like, I can have the staff make you anything you’d like.”
“Duck is fine,” I said shortly, purposely slowing down. Daxton and the guards didn’t seem to notice, but Greyson did. He let go of Lila and met my slow hobble, his brow furrowed with concern.
“Your arms have to be sore. When we get back, I’ll make sure to find you a wheelchair or—”
“A wheelchair would be nice,” I said, even though I had no intention of giving up my crutches. I took a few more painful hops before stopping completely.
Greyson and Lila did, too. “Here, let me help,” he said, taking my crutches. “They might be too short for you.”
“You’re next in line,” I whispered. “And the Prime Minister has complete power now.”
His frown returned, and though he fiddled with my crutches, he nodded slowly. I reached out to steady myself against the wall.
“The first chance we get, we’re going to kill him.”
Both he and Lila looked at me sharply, but neither had the chance to reply. “Do keep up,” called Daxton from in front of the elevator, and Greyson handed me my crutches. I tested them gingerly. They were taller now, and they did fit a bit better.
The guards circled back around to escort us to the waiting elevator, and as we all piled inside, I used the mirrors to meet Greyson’s and Lila’s eyes. It was up to us now. All we had to do was find a way to kill the most powerful man in the country, and we would win this war for good.
VIII
Oasis of Sand
Lunch was an uncomfortably awkward affair. Daxton insisted on sitting next to me, and he continued to fill my plate with duck, potatoes, salad—every time I took so much as a single bite, he would replace it with another serving.
“You really are too thin, my darling,” he said. “I would hate for anyone to think you’ve been mistreated.”
So I’d been right; that was the reason he’d had me fixed up and made over after all. “What are you going to have me do?” I said, pushing a piece of potato around my plate. I would have taken the rotting food in Elsewhere over this any day if it meant I didn’t have to sit next to him.
“Oh, you know. Nothing too strenuous. You have, after all, had a difficult few days.” He served himself another piece of duck. “You’ll be addressing the people after dinner tonight. Showing them that you’re alive and safe—you know, the usual.”
He wanted me to negate any sympathy Knox’s announcement had created. It was the first smart move he’d made in ages. “What do I get in return?”
“What would you like?” he said jovially. I glanced at Greyson and Lila across the table. Neither had said a word to me, but they had whispered back and forth to one another a few times. Apparently this wasn’t unusual, because Daxton didn’t seem to mind.