Queen (The Blackcoat Rebellion #3)(43)

“If only we could say the same,” I said. Though it had been jarring before, now that I had known Lila—now that I had spoken with her and had meaningful interactions, now that I had come to care about her as more than just the girl I had to be—playing a dead girl made my skin crawl.

Greyson and I started toward Daxton’s end of the long table, but two guards stopped us less than a third of the way down. “Your seats are over there, I’m afraid,” said Daxton, gesturing past us. Two place settings sat at the very end of the table, dishes already served. “It isn’t that I don’t crave your company, of course—it’s my guards, you see. Terribly overprotective.”

So my suspicions were right; he must have had some idea that Greyson and I wanted nothing more than to kill him. At least we were all on the same playing field. I took my seat and eyed the juicy steak on the plate. Of course that was what Daxton had chosen to serve us—to serve Lila, who didn’t eat red meat. It was possible he suspected me, but it had been a long time since I’d tried to eat something I knew full well Lila wouldn’t touch. It was far morelikely he was just trying to upset me. Upset Lila. And she would have risen to the bait.

“Are you trying to starve me on purpose?” I demanded, picking up the wine instead. Daxton’s hand flew to his chest in a mock apology.

“Oh—oh, dear. Did they...? Of course they did.” He motioned to one of the servers. “I’ve made Lila’s dietary requirements crystal clear to you all. Why you can’t follow a simple request, I’ve no idea.”

Wordlessly the server picked up my plate, and within seconds he replaced it with a chicken stew. It smelled like something Nina, the matron of my group home, would have made, and if I’d had any appetite at all, I would have inhaled it. Annoyed, I picked up my utensils, wishing Greyson and I were taking dinner in Lila’s room instead. At least he appeared to be content for now, cutting into his steak without complaint.

“There, much better,” said Daxton, and he took a bite of his meal. With his mouth full, he added, “Have you two been keeping up with the news?”

“Yes,” I said. “Is that why you wanted us to come to dinner? To make sure we knew you’re winning?”

“To make sure you knew we are winning, darling,” he said. “After all, when we eradicate the rebels, you will both be at the forefront of the celebrations.”

I took a bite of stew, trying to quell my nausea. Being in the same room as Daxton would have been enough to make me sick on a good day, but the thought of supporting him after the war made my stomach roll. “How long do you think it will be before you’ve—before we’ve—won?”

Though Knox didn’t tell me much about what the Blackcoats were doing, he did tell me enough to reassure me that we were getting closer and closer to overtaking the government every day. In fact, hearing him tell it, Daxton wasonly a few key battles away from losing. I was much more willing to believe Knox than I was Daxton or the media, so when he casually lifted his wineglass and murmured, “Minutes, Lila,” I nearly dropped my spoon.

“What?” I had to have misheard him. He was sitting at the other end of a dining room meant to seat fifty, after all.

“Minutes,” he repeated, his mouth twisting into a gleeful smirk. “With all the trouble they’ve been causing, I thought to myself, why bother trying to reason with them? Clearly they aren’t interested in civilized discussion, so I’ll simply have to take care of Elsewhere myself.”

The edges of my vision went dark, and I clutched my spoon. “How?” I choked out. “What are you going to do, Daxton?”

“Oh, it’s been done,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I ordered the strike hours ago. The bombs should reach Elsewhere...” He checked his watch. “By dessert.”

There was still time. I stood shakily, and the room around me spun. “I need—I need to lie down.”

“You won’t be staying for the show?” said Daxton, disappointment saturating his voice. “I promise you, Lila, you won’t want to miss this.”

I caught Greyson’s eye, and he stood as well, hurrying around the table to help me. “She hasn’t been feeling well for a few days,” he said. “I’m sure the shock isn’t helping.”

“Shock? And here I was, thinking you’d be pleased to know you’re almost free.” Daxton sighed and threw his napkin down. “Fine. See if I try to do anything nice for you again. Go take your nap. I’ll have my guards alert you when the Blackcoats are nothing more than a pile of charred remains.”

Knox was in Elsewhere. Rivers. Strand. Thousands upon thousands of prisoners who had stayed to fight with us. It took a moment for my muddled mind to remember that Knox had moved Benjy, by some miracle—he was in another Blackcoat safe house, far away from Elsewhere and the massacre that was about to occur. No, not just a massacre—there was no word for the sadistic deaths of tens of thousands of people on the orders of a single madman.

I let Greyson lead me out into the hallway, and I leaned heavily on him. Two guards followed, and he glared at them. “I know how to get back to our room.”

“Sir—”

“You’re making it worse,” he said, his grip tightening around my shoulders. “Go.”