Fairest: The Lunar Chronicles: Levana's Story (19 page)

She drew a finger across the screen, testing its functionality. Most of the entertainment on Luna was broadcast through the holograph nodes or on the enormous screens set into the walls of the domes themselves. But comms and video feeds from Earth didn’t always translate to the holographs, so her newly commissioned netscreen was more akin to Earthen technology. It was as useful as it was beautiful. She would need it for the surveillance she hoped to conduct on the people of the outer sectors. For her discussions with the Commonwealth emperor. For the newsfeeds she would be monitoring, closely, once her army was unleashed.

A good queen was a well-informed queen.

She paused when one of the Earthen newsfeeds showed the royal family of the Eastern Commonwealth. Emperor Rikan standing alone at the podium with his country’s flag like a sunrise behind him. The young prince stood beside a sour-faced political adviser, his eyes downcast. He was a string bean of a child, not much older than Winter. But it was his father, expression equally miserable, that held Levana’s attention.

The press conference was to discuss their recent tragedy.

The beloved empress was dead, having contracted none other than Levana’s disease during a philanthropic trip to a plague-ridden town at the western edge of the Commonwealth.

Dead of letumosis.

Levana laughed—she couldn’t help herself—remembering Channary’s dreamy, offhanded comment that the empress might someday find herself assassinated.

This was not an assassination. This was not murder.

This was fate.

Simple, exquisite, blindingly obvious fate.

No longer could Earth flaunt its perfect royal family, in their perfect little palace, on their perfect little planet. No longer could they claim the happiness that had eluded Levana for so long.

“My Queen?”

She turned back to the technician. He was clutching a pair of gloves in his hands, and he looked terrified.

“Yes?”

“I only wanted to mention that … you are aware, I hope, that your—that glamours do not translate through netscreens? Should you wish to send any video comms, or conduct any broadcasts, that is.”

A smile stretched across Levana’s lips. “Do not worry. I have already commissioned something special from my dressmaker for just such an occasion.” She glanced at the sheer lacy veil that had been delivered a few days before, much more sophisticated than the canopy curtains, yet with all the same mystery and security they’d afforded her.

Dismissing the technician, Levana turned back to watch the muted feed of the Commonwealth’s royal family. Since her fight with Evret over a month before and her assault on the palace’s mirrors, she’d delved into her role as queen more than she’d ever done before. She hardly slept. She hardly ate. She and Sybil Mira and the rest of the court spent long hours discussing trade and manufacturing agreements between the outer sectors, and new methods to increase productivity. More guards were needed to patrol the outer sectors—so more guards were drafted and began their training. Some of the young men they’d tried to draft didn’t want to
be
guards at all, especially those who had family in the same sectors they would be monitoring. Levana solved the problem by threatening the livelihoods of those very families they were so concerned about, and watched how quickly the young men changed their minds. The curfew, instated for the necessary rest and protection of the workers, had not been popular to begin with, but after Levana had suggested they make public examples of those civilians who refused to obey the new laws, the people began to see the reasonableness of such strict expectations.

Even as she was making her country stronger and more stable, there was one burgeoning problem that Levana couldn’t ignore.

Luna’s resources were dwindling faster than ever, just as the reports had said they would. Only regolith seemed to be in endless supply, but their water and agriculture, their forest industry and metal-recycling plants were all dependent on the space within the atmosphere-and-gravity-controlled domes, and the materials that had been brought up from Earth so many generations ago.

More luxuries, more diverse crops, more military weaponry and training grounds and shipbuilding, all equaled fewer resources.

The court representatives warned her that they could not sustain this level of advancement for more than a decade or two.

On the screen, Emperor Rikan was leaving the stage. The crown prince was fidgeting with his necktie. The people of the Commonwealth were crying.

“Earth,” Levana whispered, tasting the word on her tongue, and it felt like the first time she’d said it. Or, the first time she’d meant it.
Earth.
“That is what we need.”

And why shouldn’t they take it? They were the more advanced society, the more advanced species. They were stronger, and smarter, and more powerful. Earthens were but children in comparison.

But how best to take it? There were far too many Earthens to brainwash, even if she divided her entire court among them. Though letumosis was spreading—it would be years still before she could make use of her antidote. And her wolf soldiers were not yet ready for any sort of full-scale attack. There was still so much work to be done if she had any hope of taking Earth by force.

But as she learned from Channary, one did not always have to take things by force. Sometimes it was better if you made them come to you. Made them
want
you.

A marriage alliance then, just as Channary had dreamed for herself, all those years ago. Princess Winter would make a good match for this boy, but Winter had no royal blood. The alliance would be too superficial.

No, it had to be the queen. It had to be Levana. It had to be someone who could, someday,
someday,
produce an heir to the throne.

Pressing her lips, she turned off the screen.

She would have to do it, she knew. For the people. For their future. For Luna.

For all of Earth.

*   *   *

She could not remember the last time she’d come to his chambers in the middle of the night, and Evret seemed surprised by her presence. They had barely spoken since their argument, and when Levana tried to kiss him, he rejected her as kindly as he could.

Still, he didn’t ask her to leave.

She wondered if he was remembering her as she was beneath the glamour, and the thought hardened her heart. The way he had looked at her—the real her—iced her veins.

She stripped away his resistance, piece by piece. So gradually and gently he wouldn’t even know she was tampering with him. He would think it was his own heart beating a little faster. His own blood running a little hotter. His own yearning growing inside him as he finally gave in and pulled her into his arms.

Love is a conquest.

Even knowing that it wasn’t his choice, would never have been his choice, his kisses still elated her. Even after all these years, she loved him. No matter what he said about their marriage, that much was real.

Afterward, Levana stayed curled up in the crook of his arm, her head pressed against the hollow of his chest, listening to the lulling drum of his heartbeat. She ran her thumb over the stone wedding band he’d given her, twirling it around and around her finger. She knew that she would never again wear the Earth pendant after this night, but this band she would never take off. She would carry it with her for always, for eternity.

The pendant represented the love Evret had never had for her.

But the wedding band represented the love she had always had for him.

Love is a war.

Though she’d been expecting the muffled thumps from the corridor, she still startled when she heard them. Two royal guards, incapacitated. She wondered if he decided to kill them or merely knock them unconscious.

Evret stirred in his sleep. His arm tightened instinctively around her and Levana squeezed her eyes shut before she could cry.

From this day forward, you will be my sun at dawn and my stars at night.

The bedroom door burst open, crashing loud against the wall. Evret jolted upward, simultaneously pushing Levana aside.

A dark silhouette filled the door frame.

Later, when she had time to process it all, Levana would be amazed at how quickly Evret reacted. Even pulled from sleep, his instincts were immediate and alert. In one movement he shoved Levana off the bed so that she was protected behind the mattress and rolled himself off the other side. A gunshot flared through the room. The sound was deafening. It wouldn’t be long before more guards came running.

“Majesty, stay down!” Evret yelled. From somewhere, he had a knife. Of course he had a knife. He had probably slept with it under his pillow since their wedding night and Levana had never known.

She didn’t stay down. Instead, she gripped the tumbled blankets and watched as Evret flung himself toward the intruder, and she silently said her good-byes, even as tears trekked down her face.

The knife was only a hair from the intruder’s chest when it froze.

This was not a shell like the one that killed her parents. This was a much more skilled assassin. A much more dangerous one. As Levana’s vision adjusted to the light pouring in from the corridor, she watched Evret’s eyes widen in recognition.

Although Head Thaumaturge Haddon had retired some years before, he had never fully left the court. Or, as Levana had guessed, fully given up on his ambitions. He had reached the highest position in court that he could achieve without being royalty himself.

Levana had made him a very tempting promise. He hadn’t even hesitated when she told him her price.

The knife fell, landing anticlimactically on the bed.

A second gunshot. A third. A fourth. Blood splattered across the white linens. Down the hall, Levana heard Princess Winter screaming. She wondered whether the girl would come see what was happening or whether she would be smart enough to run for help.

Either way, it would be too late.

It was too late.

Joshua Haddon released Evret, who fell to his knees, blood covering his hands as he pressed them over his stomach. “Majesty—” he croaked. “
Run.
”

The thaumaturge turned toward Levana. He was smiling, proud and haughty. He had succeeded. He had done as she had asked. And now, without the burden of a husband, it would be time for Levana to fulfill the promise she had made. To marry Joshua and crown him as the king of Luna. When Levana asked him to do this, she was sure to tell him how she had admired him for so many years—that this is what she had longed for ever since she’d made the mistake of her youthful marriage. Arrogant as he was, Haddon took very little convincing.

Levana climbed onto her shaky legs.

Haddon lowered the gun. His eyes roved over her body—her glamour’s body—full of lust and anticipation.

Ignoring the tears now drying on her cheeks, Levana flung herself toward Haddon. He lifted his arms to accept the embrace.

Instead, he received a knife, handle deep, in his chest.

As horror and comprehension crashed into his expression, Levana shoved him away. He stumbled back, collapsing against the wall.

She fell to the floor beside Evret. Agony clawed up her throat and exploded in a shrill wail.

As soon as Levana was out of danger, his last reserves of energy left him and Evret slumped against the side of the bed.

“Evret!” she cried, surprised to find that her terror was real. Watching the spark dim behind his eyes, the way those gray and emerald specks seemed to fade in the darkness, was more painful than she’d imagined it would be.

I vow to love and cherish you for all our days.

“Evret,” she said again, whimpering now. Her hands joined his, trying to block the wounds. Down the hall there were new footsteps. It could not have been more than a minute since Haddon had entered the room, yet it felt like a lifetime had passed. Looking down, she saw blood splattered across her nightgown. Blood covering their hands. Blood on the two wedding bands he still wore, pressed up against each other.

Here is what I think of love.

She sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Oh, stars.
Evret.
”

“It’s all right,” he gasped, dragging his arms around her and pulling her against him. “It’s all right, sweetheart.”

She cried harder.

“Please. Please. Take care of Winter.”

She sobbed.

“Promise, My Queen. Promise you’ll take care of her.”

She dared to meet his eyes. They were intense and melting and struggling so hard to stay strong. To hide his pain. To pretend that he wasn’t dying.

At some point, guards arrived. A doctor. Even Winter, with her pale nightgown and frightened tears. And Sybil, too, unsurprised it seemed, by the expressionless set of her brow.

Levana hardly saw any of them. She was alone with Evret, her husband, her beloved, clutching his hand as the blood cooled on her skin. She felt it the moment he was gone, and she was left alone.

She could not stop crying.

It was all her fault. Everything was her fault. She had ruined every moment she had with him, from their very first kiss.

“I promise,” she whispered, though the words burned her throat. She did not love the child. She had only loved Evret, and now she had destroyed even that. “I promise.”

Reaching for the pendant around her neck, she broke the chain with a firm yank. She slipped the charm into Evret’s hand as Sybil pulled her away, and a screaming Winter collapsed against her father to take her place.

Her sister’s words came back to her, thundering in her ears, filling up all the hollow places in her heart.

Love is a conquest. Love is a war.

Here is what I think of love.

Acknowledgments

Thank You, Thank You, Thank You …

To Jill, Cheryl, and Katelyn, for all your guidance and enthusiasm, and for not batting an eye when I was like, “Surprise! I wrote this thing, and I have no idea what to do with it.”

To Liz, Jean, and Jon, for believing in me as an author, and for believing in Levana’s story as one that needed to exist in the world.