Four Dead Queens(108)

I looked at Varin’s serene face before turning back to the queen. “I know I have no right to ask you this”—I cleared my throat—“to ask you for anything—”

“Stop,” Queen Marguerite commanded. “Have you already forgotten my order? You must move on from what happened here.” She glanced at Jenri. “We all must.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“Continue, then.”

“My father was in an accident six months ago,” I began. “An accident I caused. And even though I don’t deserve forgiveness, and to move on, he does.” Before I knew it, tears were running down my face. “I turned my back on my family long ago, even before his accident. I turned toward something that was easy and gratifying and selfish. I didn’t realize my choices would hurt my family; I only cared about what I wanted. What I thought I wanted. But I want more for my life now.” I grinned at Varin through my tears. “I’ve seen so much while in the palace. Beyond the Jetée, beyond Toria.” I spread my hands wide. Even without four queens, this room had a commanding presence. It spoke of our nation, of the divisions and the intersections. It spoke of our combined cultures. Our united desires.

The first four queens of Quadara had created peace with their walls, but had they misunderstood the power of this place? The potential of their nation?

There were no borders here.

“Are you all right?” Queen Marguerite asked, leaning forward.

Varin placed his free hand on my back, steadying me. If I hadn’t stolen Varin’s comm case, I never would’ve found out about Eonist death dates. I never would’ve understood how Eonists feel, and hurt. And Varin and I wouldn’t have met; those walls would have kept us apart.

Arebella might have been destructive and dangerous, but she wasn’t completely wrong about Quadara.

“I’m fine,” I said firmly. “My eyes have been opened to a larger world. One I want to be a part of. But to do that”—I wiped my nose with the back of my hand—“I have to learn how to forgive myself. And I can’t do that without my family. I can’t.”

At the mention of family, Queen Marguerite stilled. “What can I do?”

“My father is at the Eonist Medical Facility,” I said. “He’s been in a coma since the accident and has continued deteriorating. He has weeks—maybe less—to live. I was hoping . . . I would like to ask . . .” Why was this so hard? I was trying not to be selfish, but here I was, asking a selfish question. “I know out of all people, I shouldn’t be asking anything from you, from the palace. I don’t deserve it. But my father does. Please”—the tears flowed freely now—“please give him a second chance.”

“You want to use a dose of HIDRA for your father?” she surmised.

I nodded. “I know there are few treatments left, but if you could spare it, I would be forever grateful.”

Queen Marguerite looked to Jenri for a moment. A warm exchange passed between them, something extending beyond the queen and advisor relationship. What had happened here had highlighted what was important. I knew the feeling.

“Please, my queen. Please let me be a part of something good.”

“With no other queens to deliberate over this decision,” Queen Marguerite said, her eyes shifting to where the other thrones should be, “it is up to me, and me alone. We’ve been through many unspeakable horrors in the last two weeks. As have you. Without my daughter and the choice I made seventeen years ago”—she took a deep breath—“none of this would’ve happened.”

“This is not your fault!” I interrupted. “My queen,” I added quickly.

“Nor is it yours.” Her words were stern but understanding. In that moment, I could see the wonderful mother she would’ve been. “I will grant you this, as you and your father deserve a new beginning. We all deserve that.”

My knees buckled but Varin held me close. “Thank you, Queen Marguerite. Thank you. Thank you.” The words didn’t even begin to cover my gratitude.

“I will send a dose of HIDRA to the medical facility at once.”

I pressed my face into Varin’s chest and broke down.

“I’ve got you,” Varin whispered against my shaking shoulder, “you’re going to be all right.” And for the first time in months, perhaps years, I believed my life could change for the better. Had changed.

After a moment, I pulled myself together and thanked Queen Marguerite again.

“You know,” Queen Marguerite said, “I’m in need of additional advisors now that I’ll be ruling Quadara alone.” A darkness clouded her features whenever she mentioned the deceased queens. “I could benefit from someone who’s been involved in interquadrant business.”

I let out a surprised laugh. “Are you offering me a job, my queen?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Would you accept, if I was?”

“I don’t know.” I desperately wanted to start afresh and leave the palace behind, but everything that had happened in the past two weeks had changed me, irreversibly. “I’m not sure I could stay here.”

“Not a problem!” She waved a hand. “I need a break from the palace myself. I’m currently organizing a tour of all the quadrants, spending a month in each, to ensure I understand the fundamental differences between them, but also the ideals we share. As the only queen of Quadara, I must respect what my sister queens believed in, while heralding change. Necessary change.”