Queen (The Blackcoat Rebellion #3)(33)

“You only need one mouthpiece, right?” I said. “And the people might love Lila, but I’m the one who’s been working with the Blackcoats. With all these—claims about who you are, Lila’s word won’t mean much. But mine, since I’m the one who accused you to begin with—mine is gold.”

“You want me to release Lila,” he said, taking a bite and chewing slowly as he watched me.

“I want you to release Lila and Greyson,” I corrected. “Do that, and I’ll say anything you want.”

“No,” said Greyson, his voice barely above a whisper, but his tone unshakable. He set his fork down. “Lila and I will continue to cooperate if and only if you release Kitty. She’s injured, she’ll have no chance to make it backto Elsewhere, and the Blackcoats are on the brink of starvation. She’ll pose no threat to you.”

I gaped at him. “Greyson—”

“This isn’t a negotiation,” he said to me, and then he looked back at Daxton. “What will it be?”

I stared at the pair of them, my gut twisting with the need to inform them just how important it was that they escape as soon as possible. Daxton wouldn’t let me go, not when I would undoubtedly return to the Blackcoats the first chance I got and report to the world what I had witnessed in the meeting room with the Ministers of the Union. Greyson’s and Lila’s silence could be bought. Greyson had never been much of a fighter, and Lila would never return to the Blackcoats. I didn’t blame her. She’d already risked her life enough.

But my life—my purpose—was tied to this war. And I was determined to keep my word; the first chance I had, I would kill Daxton. I couldn’t do that while they were in the Stronghold with me, not when my failure would inevitablymean their deaths. But as soon as I was alone with him, he wouldn’t be able to use Greyson and Lila against me. And as much as I wanted to survive to see the end of this war and the Blackcoats’ success, that would never happenwhile he lived.

It was a risk I was willing to take.

They had to know that. They had to understand. But rather than meet my eyes, Greyson stared steadily at Daxton, and in an instant I knew he understood what I was trying to do. And that was why he was making his bargain.

“Interesting.” Daxton looked back and forth between us, the tines of his fork tapping against his plate. “You want to protect them, and they want to protect you. It’s sweet, in a way. We really are one big happy family, aren’twe?”

Lila’s mouth twisted with barely disguised disgust. “She can give your speech tonight, but we want her on a helicopter to D.C. by midnight. You want to prove to the public that you’re really sympathetic and mean us no harm. What better way to do that than to release her? And not only that, but you’ll be sending a clear message to the Blackcoats. You’re not afraid of them. Especially not a seventeen-year-old III.”

“You make a good case, but that isn’t surprising. You could sell sand in the desert, my dear Lila,” he said with a smile that, from anyone else, would have been warm. “Both offers are enticing, and both have their merits. But you forget, I could just as well keep you all.”

“You could,” I said coolly. “But where’s the fun in that?”

He barked with laughter, throwing his head back in an undignified manner that would have made the prim and proper Augusta curl her upper lip. “Indeed. I’ll tell you what. I will accept one of your offers—after Kitty’s broadcast, provided she follows my script.”

“Which offer?” said Lila, and he shrugged.

“That’s the fun of it, isn’t it? You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Neither Lila nor Greyson seemed to think it was any more fun than I did, but we kept our collective mouths shut, and after lunch ended, I returned to my room. Each of them had a suite down the same hallway, it turned out, but they didn’t invite me into theirs, and I didn’t ask. I wanted to get out of the Stronghold and out from under Daxton’s thumb more than anything, but I couldn’t do it at the expense of their freedom. I wouldn’t.

It was entirely possible I wouldn’t have much of a choice, however, and I spent the rest of the afternoon icing my foot and scanning the news channels, searching for any new messages from Knox or the Blackcoats. I tried to sleep, but the anxiety churning in my stomach kept me from dozing off.

I couldn’t go off script, not if I wanted to have a chance to get Greyson and Lila out of here. In my mind, at least, mine was the better deal. If Daxton let me go, he would have gained nothing from keeping me alive to begin with; but if he released Lila and Greyson, he would have me as a prisoner at his beck and call.

Despite my cautious optimism, I knew the most likely scenario would be Daxton refusing to honor either deal, and all three of us remaining in the Stronghold for the rest of the war. Maybe we would find a way out eventually, but not in time to do much to help the current efforts. For now, I could only hope Daxton’s stupidity in revealing Celia’s mistake bought us the support we needed, the way Knox seemed to think it would.

A knock sounded on my door shortly before dinner. I’d managed to dress myself in something other than flannel pajamas, choosing from the half dozen outfits hanging in the closet. “Come in.”

I wasn’t sure who I was expecting—no one in the Stronghold would listen to me, anyway, if I’d tried to deny them entry—but relief coursed through me at the sight of Greyson. “You look nice,” he said, nodding toward the cocktail dress I wore.