Queen (The Blackcoat Rebellion #3)(57)

“No,” I said instantly. Benjy and Greyson gave me strange looks, but I ignored them. “It won’t help us in here, and if you’re telling the truth, then we shouldn’t know anyway.”

“Right,” said Greyson, catching on quickly. “The less we know, the better. That way Daxton can’t get it out of us.”

Minister Bradley exhaled. “All right. But if anything does become useful—”

“Why are you helping us?” I demanded. He fell silent. “You have everything to lose. Power, prestige, privilege, your prime position as Daxton’s lapdog—”

“It is not what I have to lose, dear Lila, but what I have to gain.” He lowered his voice several notches and leaned in, though the walls were thick enough that I doubted anyone trying to listen through the doorway could hear us. “Is it so strange a thought that perhaps I do not want the country run by a madman?”

“You didn’t seem to think he was mad when you got everything you wanted,” I said.

“Perhaps I was blinded by greed then, yes. But even I cannot ignore what happened in the Stronghold. I am not interested in a dictatorship, and though you may believe otherwise, I do care about this country. Deeply.”

“What do you want in return?” said Greyson. “When I’m Prime Minister, what price am I going to have to pay for your help now?”

Minister Bradley sniffed. “I assure you I am doing this out of the goodness of my heart—”

“We don’t trust the goodness of your heart,” I snapped. “We trust your self-interest.”

At last he sighed and wiped his forehead once more. “Very well. Allow me to have a place in your new government. I quite enjoy my job, and I do not want to lose it in the revolution. I promise I will look out for the best interests of the people, and I will follow your agenda.”

“I don’t want a puppet,” said Greyson.

“And I do not wish to be a puppet,” said Bradley. “That is what I am now, though, with your father. Or—the man claiming to be your father.” He raised an eyebrow, and Greyson looked at his feet. “I do not want to give up my lifestyle, but I do not want to concede my morality, either, or what is left of it. It is possible to be selfish while looking out for the people, my boy. I do not claim to be perfect, and it has taken me a great deal to get thisfar.But I hope in time you are willing to trust me, or at the very least trust my desire to have a place in your new world, when the inevitable comes.” He nodded to the gun. “Use it wisely.”

Without another word, he ducked into the hallway, leaving the three of us alone. I strode over and locked the door, and once that was taken care of, I wheeled around to face Benjy.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What had to be done,” said Benjy, and to his credit, he didn’t flinch. “I believe him, Lila—”

“Kitty,” I said. “Greyson knows.”

“Good.” He and Greyson exchanged looks before he continued. “We have the gun. That’s what we need, right?”

Reluctantly I nodded, opening the cylinder to make sure it was full. “These could be blanks.”

Greyson peered over my shoulder. “They’re not. See the way the metal crimps?”

“I can do it,” said Benjy as I inspected the bullets. “I’m with him every day. The guards search me, but I could find a way—”

“No.” I closed the cylinder and set the pistol aside. “You’re not taking that risk.”

He scowled. “Kitty—”

“If you do it, you’ll just be a rebel, and he’ll die a martyr,” I said. “If Greyson does it, people will speculate he only wanted his father’s power. But if Lila does it—if the beloved mouthpiece of the Blackcoats does it—the people will be behind her.”

Greyson bit his lip. “It’ll have to be in public. On camera, if we can manage it.”

“That’s the only time we’re allowed to get close to him anyway,” I said. “You’ll pardon me, won’t you?”

That got a small smile out of him. “I think I can manage that.”

“Good. And Benjy—” I looked at him. “Thank you.”

Benjy crossed his arms, and the tips of his ears turned red. “I don’t want you doing this.”

“Doesn’t matter. It has to be done. Everything will work out—we’ll make sure it does.” I touched his elbow. Part of me was hoping for the spark we’d been missing, but as reassuring as it was to have him there, planning and strategizing with us, that was all it was: a familiar comfort. The boost of confidence I needed to go through with this. If there was a hole in the plan—a real hole, and not simply Benjy’s fears about losing me—then he would tell us.

“Okay,” said Greyson, looking back and forth between us. “First chance we get.”

I nodded, my heart racing. We could do this. We could really do this. “First chance we get.”

* * *

That chance didn’t come for weeks.

With Greyson busy tinkering with his bug, and with Benjy catering to Daxton’s every want and whim, I was left largely on my own each day. Sometimes I sketched while Greyson worked; sometimes I watched the news. But mostly I explored Creed Manor.