The reporters soar out of their seats then, questions rapid-fire and intense, the room filling with snapping energy.
Of course she's using this moment as positive PR for herself.
Of course she is.
It doesn't matter,I tell myself.You're getting what you want.
And so, I sit there, simmering as reporters simper over her, throwing softball questions as their fingers fly across their keyboards, manic expressions on their faces that they are "here, witnessing this historic moment."
"You did it, Brylee," Luka whispers to me, pride shining in his eyes.
I manage a small half smile for him, but even though I feel a surge of relief that she actually made the announcement, there are still hairs rising on the back of my neck. My nervous systemis still malfunctioning. Still on high alert as if I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I reach up and rub at the back of my neck, trying to ease the tension, when a sound like thunder cracks through the throne room. The entire castle quakes.
I share a startled look with Luka.
"What was that?" I ask breathlessly.
His coffee-colored eyes darken with concern as he drops his tablet and shoves back his chair, standing and looking behind us.
Colter has already bolted through the throne room and thrown open the doors, admitting smoke and the scent of lead.
"Tank!" he yells as he barrels back inside like a linebacker, headed straight toward me.
My stomach plummets to the floor. Disbelief pelts me as the sound of heavy fire roars just past the castle.
How the fuck did a tank get onto the grounds?
I don't have time for more than that singular thought before Colter has scooped me up into his arms as he races through the room.
The castle trembles again, and chairs tumble onto their sides. The wreaths on the columns fall from their hooks. The crystals in the chandeliers overhead sway and clink like raindrops as they start to fall—a storm set off by the thundering booms as more rounds hit the building. Screams echo through the room, though I don’t know if they’re coming from the reporters, my parents, or…me.
"We need to take cover," Luka says.
"No shit," Kylian retorts as he and Ridge join our knot.
But the reporters crowd the exit doors, fleeing even as they hold their phones up to capture every moment.
One round window on the far side of the room shatters, and the stone around it bursts apart into fragments. My heart mimics that explosion as my chest squeezes and splits.
"But the ceasefire..." I begin as Luka herds me toward the doorway where servants and nobles alike are crushing together in a panicked scramble.
Their chaotic fear is contagious, and it seeps beneath my skin.
Luka deftly uses his body to shield me from the entry of the throne room, brandishing a gun from a shoulder holster beneath his suit. Kylian guards my other side, eyes narrowed, a knife out that ensures people give him space.
From Colter's arms, I share a devastated look with a shocked beta maid, both of us mired in disbelief. Both asking ourselves,What the hell is happening?
Noths haven't perpetrated a direct attack on our capital in years.
How did they get through our defenses?
Instantly, my brain supplies an explanation: the fires.
Two fires. So many emergency responders needed. Soldiers were probably called in as backup to help clear people out and keep order.
We're sitting ducks.
