Queen (The Blackcoat Rebellion #3)(75)

“No worse than you do. Come over here. I don’t want to wake Greyson.”

Reluctantly I untangled myself from my brother and crossed the room to sit in the chair beside Knox’s bed, shoving a small pillow behind my back. It wasn’t the most comfortable piece of furniture I’d ever encountered, but it would do. Being this close to Knox without the fear of Daxton killing us both felt like a dream, and given the fuzzy state of my mind, I wasn’t so sure it wasn’t. He was really here. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you werestill alive that whole time.”

“You figured it out well enough on your own,” he said. I glared at him, my cheeks burning.

“And I can’t believe you let me ramble on like that when you were listening the whole time.”

“Would it make you feel better if I said I wasn’t?”

“Were you?” I said cautiously, and he grinned.

“Of course I was. Had to make sure you two were all right.”

I pulled the pillow out from behind my back and hit him in the thigh. “You’re awful and I hate you.”

“Only one of those is true.” He reached for my hand with his good arm, his touch warm and heavy and comforting, and his expression softened. For a moment I thought I saw a flicker of something more, but it was too dark to be sure. “You did great, Kitty. I can’t tell you how proud I am.”

I didn’t know how to respond to sincerity from him. Not like this, not when I wasn’t prepared for the feelings coursing through me like lava, overwhelming my senses. Anger, relief, desire, pure and desperate joy—there were toomany to name, let alone make any sense of. So instead I replied like we always did, with just enough bite to let each other know we cared. “Of course you can’t, because that would be admitting I did something right for a change.”

Knox smirked, and though he could have let the moment pass, his thumb brushed against the back of my hand, sending sparks through me. “So what’s next, now that you’ve saved the world?”

“I didn’t save the world,” I said, my overworked voice breaking.

“Close enough. Are you and Benjy getting a cottage in the woods together? Going to run off and be a happy little couple?”

“I—” I stopped. If he’d been listening, he should have known. Maybe he did. Maybe he wanted to be sure. “Benjy broke up with me.” The words hurt less than I thought they would. “He’s still my best friend, and he’ll always be around, but—it’s better this way. We weren’t as good together as we both deserved. Not like that.”

Knox raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And how good can it get?”

“I—” I took another sip of my water. My throat burned, but it gave me time to think. I didn’t know how good it could get. That was the problem. I thought Benjy was it, but he wasn’t. And the evidence was currently staring at me.

“You...?” said Knox, waiting for me to continue. I shook my head. He knew. He knew he knew, and I’d given him the confirmation he needed. Now he was just being a jerk.

“Don’t make me say it. Today’s been traumatic enough for both of us.”

He seemed to consider that, leaning back against his pillows without taking his eyes off me. I held his gaze, and for the space of several heartbeats, neither of us said a word. My pulse raced. He knew. And so did I, without him having to say a word.

“You should get some sleep,” he said at last. “Save that voice of yours. The next few days are going to be rough and confusing, and the people are going to need some guidance.”

I nodded, both relieved and dismayed at the shift in conversation. The last thing I wanted was to go on national television yet again, but he was right. The people would need a leader, and I had already given them everything else. I could give them this, too. “Will you do me a favor?”

“Anything.” He seemed to realize how earnest he sounded, because he added with a smirk, “Within reason.”

I gripped my glass, running my thumb through the condensation. “I’m tired,” I whispered.

“I told you, you should get some—”

“Not that kind of tired. I’m exhausted. Wrung out. There’s nothing left. I just need—I need a break. I need to get away. Not forever. But just for a little while.”

Knox was quiet for a long moment. “I can make that happen.”

“Really?” I said, and he nodded.

“I know exactly where you should go.”

* * *

The next day, the hospital released me into the care of a private physician. Walking out into the bright sunlight, so incongruous with the turmoil we had all survived—it didn’t feel real, but nothing did anymore. And I was okay with that. The instant it felt real was the moment I would start appreciating it all a little less, and I never wanted that moment to come.

Greyson assembled his council in the dining room of Creed Manor that afternoon, along with a camera crew and an order for my speech to be broadcast on every channel across the nation. My throat was in bad shape, and more than once, Greyson asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this, but I was. He would do most of the talking anyway. I just had to make sure the country knew he was nothing like his father or the madman that had impersonated him.

With Knox still hospitalized, the council consisted of seven members: me, Greyson, Benjy, Rivers, and three other surviving leaders from the rebellion. Together we sat at a round table—it was symbolic, according to Benjy—and as the red light clicked on, I took a deep breath.