Queen (The Blackcoat Rebellion #3)(48)

Daxton ended the broadcast, and as soon as the screen went dark, he clapped his hands together. “Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Indeed,” said Minister Bradley from the edge of the room, and he stepped closer to us. “You did a marvelous job, Your Grace. You showed true mercy to those who needed it most.”

“Why him?” The question came from Greyson, not me. “You could have pardoned anyone.”

“But not everyone was the beloved of the bitch who tried to kill me,” said Daxton, practically preening. “What better revenge than to keep her boyfriend alive and make him work for me for the rest of his miserable life? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to prepare for our return to D.C. I recommend you both do the same.”

With an exaggerated bow, Daxton marched out of his office with Bradley at his heels, leaving Greyson and I alone with the camera crew. I didn’t dare say anything as we headed back to the elevator, and even on our way up, I didn’t speak. It was only when we reached our room that I collapsed on the sofa and buried my face in my hands.

“I don’t know whether to be happy he’s alive or—” Or buried in grief for the others who had died. Benjy might have meant the most to me, but all of those men and women had had families and loved ones, too. It felt wrong to be happy. It felt wrong to be anything but catatonic with heartache for all the lives we had lost in this war.

“You can be happy Benjy’s alive and mourn the Blackcoat losses at the same time,” said Greyson, sitting down next to me. “This is a good thing, and not just for the obvious reason. Daxton has no idea who you really are. If he did, he would have relished the chance to kill Benjy in front of you.”

Maybe one day I would be able to use that against him. Maybe one day, as soon as he let his guard down while still believing I was Lila, who had faked her own death instead of trying to cause his, I would be able to get close enough to do it. For now, I stared at my freshly painted nails, elation and devastation swirling around me, slowly becoming one and the same. “Do you think it was all worth it?”

“The rebellion?” said Greyson, and I nodded.

“We wound up doing the opposite of what we wanted. We gave Daxton unlimited power instead of returning it to the people. And now we can’t even get close enough to him to make sure that power is in the right hands instead.”

“Fighting for what you believe in is always worth it,” he said quietly. “It only takes one voice to give others the chance to see possibilities, and that’s what Lila did. That’s what you did, too. The Blackcoats fought for basic human rights. Nothing is more worth it than that. Sometimes—” He set his hand over mine. “Sometimes the answer is no, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t ask the question.”

“Even when it costs countless people their lives?”

“Especially then.” He took a deep breath and released it. “The people still love Lila, and as long as Lila is alive, they will still have hope. It might be a long time, but this isn’t over. Even if we have to wait for Daxton to die of old age, we will see revolution in our lifetime.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around me. I still didn’t know which way was up, or how I should feel in the midst of all that had happened, but I did know he was there for me the same way I wouldalways be there for him. And that was worth more than words could say. “What are we supposed to do until then?” I said.

“The same thing we’ve always done.” He rested his head against mine. “Keep hoping.”





XI

Ashes

The next day, Daxton, Greyson, and I boarded a jet to D.C. Now that the war was over, Daxton no longer needed the protection of the Stronghold, but even so, he kept himself holed up in the back room of the jet, refusing to getanywhere near us. I didn’t blame him, not really. He must have known that the instant he let either one of us close to him without armed guards pointing their weapons directly at us, his life would be forfeit.

Together Greyson and I played a card game on the table I had shared with Knox only a few months before. We couldn’t talk about anything suspicious, not with the guards breathing down our necks, but we spoke quietly about the things we wanted to do when we returned to D.C. Greyson wanted to get back to inventing. I wanted to bury myself in work that was rewarding—charities, foundations for families of the soldiers on both sides, working toward bettering the education children from the less desirable neighborhoods received. Little things that were still within my power to do. Things that, over time, could make a real difference.

Daxton might have won the war, but he couldn’t beat the hope out of me completely.

At least that was what I thought, until we began our descent. As we neared the ground, I pulled up the window shade, expecting to see Washington, D.C., sprawled out beneath us. Instead, all I saw were the charred remains of what used to be civilization.

“What...?” said Greyson, leaning in closer to get a better look, but I sat back against my seat, gulping in lungfuls of air. Of course he would take us here. Of course he would make sure to rub our noses in everything he was capable of.

“It’s Elsewhere,” I managed shakily. “Or what’s left of it.”

The destruction was endless. Miles and miles of nothing but the dead and blackened. The plane landed on what had once been the main street of Section X, and I couldn’t stand the thought of what the wheels were running over.