Broken (Thrall Book 2), page 19
As we circle around for a landing, I study the properties to the west and east of the Nelsons’. Each is equally impressive, forbidding, and surrounded on all sides by the typical high walls that separate members of the Nobility from one another.
When I spot an outbuilding on the periphery of the Nelson grounds, a hint of hope blooms in my chest. I glance at Thorne, wondering if he, too, has seen it, and the curl of his lips tells me he’s thinking what I’m thinking.
We’ll sneak over there after dark.
Then again, given Tallin’s current state, we may not have to wait too long. The prince is still leaning against Valira, mumbling nonsensical words to himself. He’s in no state to sit up, let alone attend a social function.
I could heal him out of his stupor, I suppose.
But I won’t.
“You all right?” I ask when he opens his eyes and peers hazily at me.
“Fine,” he replies, though nothing in the contortion of his mouth fills me with confidence that he’s speaking the truth.
“Highness, are you sure you don’t want to return to the palace?” Valira asks, cupping his cheek with her hand.
There’s something so intimate in that gesture, so kind and sympathetic, that I find myself puzzled and admiring at once. As much as I know Valira loves Archyr, there is a soft spot in her heart for the cruel, vile prince that I will never understand.
“No!” Tallin snaps, sitting bolt upright, his eyes seeming to focus suddenly. He slaps himself across the face with a violence that startles me, and I turn back in my seat to face forward, avoiding any and all contact.
As unhinged as Tallin can be, I’ve never seen him as erratic as this. I can only hope he doesn’t wreak havoc on the party.
When Thorne has landed the Flyer and we’ve made our way inside the Nelson residence, a cold, eerie feeling settles under my skin.
For all its impressive attributes, the house is dark on the inside, and a little dreary, with beige walls and artwork to match. The Nelsons, it seems, aren’t keen on showing off their wealth as the Royals do. The place looks like it was thrown together by an incredibly dull person with no appreciation of beautiful things.
Our hostess strides toward us when a housemaid has guided our small group into the foyer. There’s a tight smile on Lady Nelson’s lips, but when her eyes land on Tallin, it straightens into a grimace.
“Your Highness,” she says. “How lovely to see you.”
“And you, Lady Nelson,” he replies with a bow of his head. Somehow, he’s managing to sound relatively normal. Maybe the slap across his face was all he needed.
If only he’d asked me to administer it, I would have been more than happy to oblige.
He gestures to me when he adds, “This is Lady Ingram, my fiancée.”
With those words, my mind jolts to life. I’d almost forgotten I was still wearing the diamond ring on my left hand, and that I came here to play a role.
“The other guests are out in the garden,” Lady Nelson says, nodding to me without offering up an actual greeting. I’m beginning to see why Tallin doesn’t feel welcome here. “We’ll stay out there until dusk when the insects come out, then make our way into the Great Room.”
“Thank you,” Tallin replies, staggering toward the back of the mansion as though he knows exactly where he’s going. I follow him, with Thorne and Valira behind me.
When we step into the back garden, I see that forty or so guests have already gathered under a broad white tent, dressed in elegant, expensive-looking outfits suitable for such an occasion. Most of the women are wearing knee-length dresses like mine, drinks in their well manicured hands. As with the impractical black leather pumps Tallin provided for me, their high heeled shoes sink into the soft grass.
I find myself envying the men, who are more sensibly dressed in trousers and button-down shirts of linen or cotton.
A few Guards from various homes linger here and there, watching over their Proprietors as though expecting a brawl to break out.
“A few warring Houses are represented here,” Tallin murmurs, pulling close to me as if he’s read my expression. “Men and women who would happily see my father dethroned, and me dead. They don’t trust me any more than I trust them—bunch of jackals. The only way we can win this war is to eliminate the most dangerous of our enemies. So get to work, Lady Ingram.”
When a middle-aged man strolls over to say hello, Tallin pulls away from me and shakes his hand, smiling from ear to ear as if he hasn’t just confessed that he despises everyone here.
He introduces me to the man, whom he simply calls “Prescott.” After a minute of surface-level conversation, I excuse myself, telling the prince I want to take a look at the grounds. He nods his assent, glancing over at Thorne and signaling that he’s to stay put.
“Damn it,” I mutter. Not that I expected to be able to sneak off with him just yet—but I would have liked to keep him close by, at least.
~A suggestion for you, Maude says. Perhaps you should wander through the house rather than the grounds. There will be plenty of time for that later.
Why do I get the impression you’re up to something? I ask her silently.
~Because I am. Just don’t ask what it is.
I hate when she plays coy with me. But if I know one thing about Maude, it’s that there’s always a reason for her behavior. As much as she pisses me off on occasion, she has never yet led me astray.
Then again, there’s a first time for everything.
I’m already on edge as I make my way back into the house, some sort of sweet pink beverage in hand.
This isn’t where the Histories are kept. So what, exactly, are we doing? I ask Maude as I peer down the beige hallway.
~Trust me—there’s something even more interesting here.
You’re going to keep me in suspense until we find it, aren’t you?
~But of course.
I make my way down the long hallway, passing an enormous chamber to the right that must be the Great Room. Servants are already in the process of preparing for the point later in the evening when the guests flood inside. Long tables are laid with champagne flutes and cocktail glasses as well as hors d’oeuvres and plates, napkins, and décor.
The servants ignore me for the most part, though one or two glance up and study me for a few seconds before realizing they’re being rude and pulling their eyes away. They’re curious about the prince’s future wife—their future queen—as ridiculous as the thought of it is.
I want to shout, “I will never marry that bastard! Stop looking at me!” but it would take several more alcoholic drinks before I could muster the courage to even consider it.
~Maybe later, Maude says, reading my desire.
I wasn’t actually going to do it, Maude.
~That’s what everyone says before they lose their inhibitions.
Come on, now. When have you ever known me to lose control?
~Do you really want a list? All right. When you sprayed yourself with Lady Verdan’s perfume. When you read her diary, against my advice. Then at the ball, when you screamed Ilias’s name. Afterwards, when you leapt into bed with—
Okay. Enough. You’ve made your point.
When I’ve nearly explored the entirety of the house’s main floor, I’m about to curse Maude for steering me inside when a voice hisses my name.
My real name.
“Shara?”
I spin around to see a young woman in a Guard’s uniform, a violet crest on the left side of her chest.
“Oh, my God,” I breathe when my eyes land on those of my oldest friend. “Nev!”
Chapter
Thirty-Two
I haven’t seen Nev since our last day in the Tower. The day I was flown to the Verdan home for the first time, and my life changed in unfathomable ways.
I open my mouth to warn my old friend not to call me by my real name.
But it seems Nev’s Maude unit is one step ahead of me, because she winces in obvious pain then lets out a sharp curse.
“Noted, Maude,” she says. “Jeez, you don’t have to be such a cruel mistress, you know.”
She looks into my eyes, offers up a little bow, and says, “Lady Ingram, is it? Welcome to the Nelson home.”
“I…thank you,” I reply. Maude—can you do something about her A.I.?
~Done. I’ve temporarily scrambled her unit. You have a few minutes before it comes back online.
I grab Nev by the wrist, pulling her into the room she just came out of, which appears to be a large office. After I’ve closed the door behind me, I turn to face her.
“What the fuck are you doing here, dressed like one of them?” she whisper-hisses. “I feel like someone spiked my drink with hallucinogens—except I haven’t even had a damned drink.”
“Where do I start?” I say, my heart racing with the shock that hasn’t yet abated. “I have so much to tell you, Nev. About my Proprietor, Lady Verdan…Thorne…I don’t even know where to start.”
“Wait—” Nev sputters. “Did you say Thorne? As in the Thorne? Sir Hottiecakes, king of fuckable men? The one dude in the world that I would switch sides for?”
My brows meet when I chastise, “Nev.”
“Sorry—but I totally would.”
“He’s my…” I’m about to explain to her that Thorne and I are in love when a more pressing concern drives its way to the forefront of my mind. “It doesn’t matter. Look—what do you know about the Crimson Championship?”
Her shoulder shrugs upward. “I know it’s a competition every year at the palace. I’ve heard it’s cut-throat, literally. I guess it turns out Ore trained us to be psychotic killers for a reason.”
You don’t know the half of it, I think.
“Did you…” My eyes move to the floor, courage deserting me. I clear my throat, then manage, “Have you heard about Ilias?”
“I have an acquaintance who works at the palace. Someone I’ve run into on my errands. I asked about Ilias a while back—I’d heard he’d made Royal Guard, if that’s what you mean.”
“He did,” I tell her, my heart sinking. I can see in her eyes that she doesn’t know what happened the night of the Prince’s Ball. “Nev,” I say, taking her by the hand. “He’s dead.”
“Dead…” She steps backwards, pushing herself away from me. Tears well in her eyes when she says, “No—he can’t be.”
I reach for her again, knowing I’m taking a risk spending so much time with her, let alone touching her.
“He was killed in the Crimson Championship. I was there. I saw everything. He was always loyal to the Nobility, and he paid for it with his life.”
“Oh, God. Poor Ilias. That was his dream,” she says, then swallows and collects herself, shaking her head as if dislodging the horror of it. “Members of the Royal Guard die all the time. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s just…”
She’s trying to appear stoic, but I know Nev. This is only temporary—a mask she’s putting on to cover up the conflagration of emotion that’s searing her insides.
Later, when she’s alone, she’ll allow herself to process the loss of our oldest friend.
“Ilias’s dream is a nightmare for many, it turns out,” I tell her. “The Royal Guard are treated like fighting dogs—and a lot of Crimson Elites from other Noble houses end up dying in the Championship, too.”
“Meanwhile, you’re wearing the garb of a Noble,” she reminds me. “You hardly look like you’re living a nightmare. You still haven’t told me what the hell is going on.”
She speaks the words without malice, but I can feel the anger simmering inside her, as if I’ve betrayed everything I used to be.
“I’ll tell you,” I say. “But you may not believe it.”
I spend the next few minutes explaining everything that’s happened. Finding Lady Verdan’s diary, thinking it belonged to Devorah. My love-hate-love relationship with Thorne. My deal with the prince and the king to keep me free of the dungeon so long as I cooperate.
And, last of all, I tell her about my powers.
“A Gilded Elite,” Nev breathes when I reveal the truth. “Who knew you were one of the most powerful of all of us? We all watched you get your ass handed to you a hundred times, at least.”
“All thanks to Maude,” I chuckle. “Not that I was ever much of a fighter. Still, she helped create the illusion that I’m totally useless, so I guess I owe her my thanks.”
“Who the hell programmed her?” Nev asks. “Maude units aren’t supposed to betray the Prefecture like that.”
“I…have my suspicions,” I say, not wanting to tell her everything I’ve learned about my parents. “But I’m not convinced it matters anymore. Once the prince is done using me, I’m sure he plans to kill me and Thorne. Unless…”
Something occurs to me then, and apparently Nev can tell, because she shakes her head and says, “Oh, shit. What’s going on in that terrible mind of yours?”
I take her by the hand and squeeze. “We need your help. I have to get into the vault at the Perrin home during the ball next Friday. Do you know the place?”
“I’ve been there once, with my Proprietors when they were there for an overnight and needed extra security. But I’m not exactly invited, Shara—I mean, Lady Ingram.”
“It doesn’t matter. You can port there, right?”
Nev considers this. “I don’t usually use my powers for anything more than getting to the shops,” she says. “But I suppose I could meet you at the back of the property, if we arrange a time. I should point out that this is a horrible idea, and we’ll probably all end up dead.”
“Trust me—we’re dead if we don’t do this.”
“Um, no,” Nev chuckles. “According to my calculations, you’re dead. I’ll be just fine, living here in my sad beige wonderland, minding my own damned business.”
“Please,” I say. “For all the Tethered in Kravan—just do this one thing.”
“Of course I’ll do it, you doofus.”
I clap my hands together—probably too loudly—and say, “Good. Let’s say we’ll meet at the servants’ entrance at ten p.m. By then, half the guests should be drunk out of their skulls.”
“What’s this about, anyhow?” Nev asks. “Why the hell would you want to get into some vault? Seriously, if we get caught…”
“I need to see the Histories,” I interrupt.
“The Histories? Wait—do you mean…”
I nod. “The account of Kravan before the Rebellion. I need to know what this realm was like back then. The Nobility is going to great lengths to hide the truth—and I believe that truth will be the key to freeing the Tethered.”
“Holy shit,” Nev says, shaking her head. “But I can’t possibly help you with that. It would be insane, Shar. Even if we managed to get into the vault, laying our eyes on the Histories is a crime punishable by death.”
“I know,” I tell her as a sound outside the room draws my eyes briefly to the door. “But if I can record the information, I can bring it to the Capitol, to the rebels there. I can use it to unite them and inspire another uprising.”
“There won’t be any uprising,” Nev hisses, her eyes darting to the door. She can hear the same thing I do—hard footsteps moving quickly toward us. “Look—forget it. Just find a way to escape. Get yourself somewhere safe and far from here, and live a happy life. I’ve heard there are other realms out there, Shar—lands where things aren’t so bad as here. There must be a way to—”
Before she can finish, the door flies open. Nev and I move quickly apart, looks of terror in our eyes.
But it’s not Tallin or one of Lord Nelson’s servants who’s come.
It’s Thorne.
I stare at him, my pulse racing.
“The prince has noticed your absence, Lady Ingram,” he says, his tone frosty until he lays eyes on Nev and recognizes her.
He steps into the room, closing the door behind him. “I’m so sorry—but I have to take her from you.”
“It’s okay,” Nev says, fixing her eyes on me. She takes my hands in hers and adds, “Look—I’ll come next Friday. I promise. But I can’t promise I can get us inside the…” She peers at Thorne, then whispers, “Vault.”
“If you’re willing to try, it’s all I can ask.”
“Of course I’ll try. But for the record, you two are insane. You know that, right?”
“I’m not sure there’s a sane person in all of Kravan,” Thorne says. “Now, Shara needs to come with me, or there will be hell to pay.”
I throw my arms around Nev, hugging her for the first time since we were small.
A moment later, I follow Thorne out into the hall.
“In a couple of hours, we can be together for a little,” he says under his breath as I accompany him. “Valira told me she has plans for the prince.”
I nod. “Once she’s taken him away, I’ll slip out to the back of the property. You and I need to talk about our plans for the night of the ball.”
“Talking is fine,” he agrees with a sly smile. “But I need to do more than just speak to you, Shara. I’m going to lose my mind if I can’t…”
He stops short when Tallin appears, striding toward us.
“Where the hell have you two been?” he snarls, murder in his eyes.
“I was just…exploring the house,” I reply. “Thorne came to get me, to bring me to you.”
Tallin looks as if he’s about to accuse me of lying when his expression softens, as if he’s just done the calculus and realized Thorne was by his side until a couple of minutes ago.
“Fine,” he says. “But Lady Ingram, you have some mingling to do, and some Nobles to assess.”
“Yes, your Highness,” I say, bowing my head slightly when a servant wanders by.
As Tallin snatches me by the arm to drag me back outside, I shoot Thorne one final look over my shoulder.
Soon, I mouth silently. And with that, Maude buzzes a gentle warning in my arm.
~Be careful, she says. Something tells me there’s trouble brewing.
Chapter
Thirty-Three
The first person I spot when I’ve separated myself from Tallin is Lady Graystone, who’s standing with her son, Ellion, and a couple I haven’t met.
