As soon as Jeo sees that I’m coherent, he turns on his heel. “We have to go. Where are your shoes?” He walks away without waiting for a reply and disappears into my dressing room.
What in the world?
“Jeo?” I call. No answer. I run a hand down my face, trying to wipe away the lingering slumber as I attempt to get my bearings in the dark room.
Jeo comes out of my dressing room a second later, and with only the low-burning fire to light the room, I squint at the bundle in his arms.
“What are you doing with my clothes?”
I push the covers aside and get up, still dressed, the cut of my white fabric now horribly wrinkled.
He stops at the bed, tossing down random bits of clothes before he starts shoving them into a knapsack—the same kind of bag that Pruinn carries for his bric-a-bracs.
“Jeo,” I snap, watching him frantically shove everything inside, his own clothing in disarray, blood-red hair sticking up in places like he just rolled from bed himself. “Tell me what’s going on right this instant.”
He looks over at me, blue eyes washed out from the light of the fire. “They breached the castle walls.”
“Who?” The stupid question falls from my mouth, unbidden. Of course I know who. I just don’t know how. I told the guards to have them all killed if they dared to come up the mountain.
“The rioters. They’ll be inside the castle within moments. You must get to the safe house.”
I feel my head shaking, feel the blood drain from my face. “That’s not possible. The guards—”
Fingers grip my arms again, shaking me, just as he did to wake me up. “The guards abandoned their posts. They opened the damn gates.”
“What?”
A nightmare. That’s all this is. I’m still sleeping, and this is a nightmare.
My temples begin to throb again.
I lift my fingers, pressing against the pulse, trying to flatten the pain out. “Send for some food. I can’t think with this incessant headache.”
“Food? That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” he asks incredulously. “No food will be sent up on silver platters. Your servants are gone, already fled.”
The remnants of sleep bob in the water, my headache yanking at the anchor.
“Fools!” I curse. “Then the servants have betrayed me as well as the guards.”
“Malina, you ordered your soldiers to slaughter the people. Their people,” Jeo hisses, his fingers digging into my arms, forcing me to be present, to fasten me to the here and now. “That’s their families down there in that city. Their friends. Neighbors. And you commanded they all be killed.”
The accusation in his voice has my shoulders stiffening, lips pursing. “The people are rioting, Jeo! They needed to be punished, and I needed to put them in their place. It’s my duty as queen, and it’s the soldiers’ duty to obey me,” I snap. “The wall guard let them in? Well, I’ll see that they’re all punished too.”
With a disgusted scoff, he uses his grip to push me down and sit me on the bed. He kneels and shoves my feet into a pair of ill-laced boots. “You don’t get it, do you?” Deft fingers begin lacing me up, so tightly my ankles twinge. “You just lost the last of whatever power you thought you had here. They’ve turned on you. Everyone. You need to flee before they get inside.”
My head is shaking again, a mantra of disbelief in control of my neck. “Get my advisors. Call in the palace guards. No one will get into Highbell without meeting a bloody end.”
He finishes lacing me up, standing to jerk me back to my feet, and slings the bag of clothes over his shoulder. He pulls me to the door, while I try to extract my hand from his, but he doesn’t relent.
When I pound a fist against his back, he spins around to face me, eyes blazing. “Your advisors are gone. Most of your guards are gone too, and probably raised up arms to join the mob. It’s over, Malina!”
My throat clogs, fear and denial like clumps of gravel to scrape me up. “No.”
“Yes,” he persists, and that’s when I see past his anger, past his rush, and notice something else.
Fear.
That’s unmistakable, raw, frenetic fear there, his freckles made starker by the cold terror that’s paled his face.