Page 92 of Hunger & Harmony

The words leave my tongue before I can process. I don’t know when my voice became this steady. As I stare out at the sea of subjects, fear doesn’t find me when every masked face turns. No one has let me speak yet. It’s my turn.

I slowly stand.

“You will not correct him through me,” I continue. “We either all come to an agreement, or not.”

Niko turns as I step up to his side. He doesn’t want a queen, but he still needs someone on his side. Maybe I’m only doing it because I feel his each wave of isolation, restraint, and anguish as my own.

I take his hand, regardless. I squeeze it assuredly and meet his grief-stricken gaze.

Even if it’s unclear between us, I’ll stand by you.

I don’t have to hope he hears my intention, because he nods. Because he turns to his officials and courtiers with his shoulders straight.

“I . . .” Archduchess Imara clears her throat. “We are not opposed to further deliberation. With measures in place, a temporary suspension of plans could benefit His Majesty’s instability.”

There is no punishment. No sentence. No closure.

“With monitoring . . .”

Her voice trails off.

In many ways, it’s worse. This is a dangerous rope to walk. Relief still washes over me as Niko guides us away from the thrones.

The crowd parts, and our footsteps cut through silence. Selene steps forward, joining us at Niko’s right side. I’m not surprised when Ezren appears to my left.

There’s no music or ceremony. Just our echoing footsteps and the resounding thud of the doors closing behind us.

Niko’s hand in mine has never felt colder.

22

INK MEMORY

Plunged into the waters of panic, my body curls inward. There’s no point in thrashing. I don’t have any fight in me as wrong notes ricochet like bullets.

Blurred figures move around me. Two males, and one female. She’s shouting, but the tinnitus drowns her words. I want to reach for her, but I’m so weak.

Fragments of desperation slice across my senses, and I hold myself tighter. It’s too loud. It’s too bright. I can’t tell if I’m in a stairwell or a hospital room.

“Cadence?”

It isn’t the girl outlined in purple and sorrow. Not the shadowed figures of the boys beside her, either.

“N . . .” I dare to open my eyes. “Niko . . .?”

My whisper can’t rival the storm of static, but he hears me. His fingers graze my shoulder, and I find the strength to look up at him.

Concern twists his features, but something else pools in his eyes.

Understanding.

Stunned, I only stare back. It isn’t any quieter, but the unraveled threads of my heart aren't as heavy with him here. He crouches, not going anywhere as he settles beside me.

I can finally bear looking at the three figures lost to noise. Their pain is my own, but they’re too muffled to understand why.

“This isn’t how it was meant to sound.”

All I can do is nod in response. Niko’s right. I don’t know why, and I don’t think he does either.