The setting sun stains the sky an unearthly violet. I can just make out the faint blue grid beneath the clouds. The electric lines streak the sky, and I wonder what a sunset without the force field that domes Karm would look like.
Glancing around, I locate an Eye in the corner of the balcony, its tiny lens encased in glass.
As my father would say, damn.
I edge toward the railing, keeping my right side out of view of whoever is spying on the other side of the camera. The blade of the dagger presses against my thigh, and I clasp the hilt beneath my tunic, wishing I could bring it out and examine it further.
My father’s initials are engraved on the black hilt, just above a crest of an eagle’s outspread wings and a sword. I know there’s a story behind how he came to own the weapon, but I suppose he was waiting for his last day to do so. Now, he never will.
My father may yet live another few days in the Oubliette, but once you’re there, your presence is so completely wiped from Karm you may as well have never existed. I won’t even be given the chance to say goodbye to him at a funeral. He and all of his belongings will be incinerated.
My last moments with my mother were nearly the same before she was taken. She had gone mad, rambling meaningless obscenities my five-year-old mind couldn’t process at the time, and then the Force hauled her away. A fiery ache lodges in my throat.
Will my parents be together soon?
I pray so, but I don’t believe in Heaven. God wouldn’t inflict such a disease on His world—wouldn’t turn His creation into a barren wasteland. Maybe they’ll be together in the wind. Or the clouds. Somewhere soft and bright, watching over me.
There’s not a Heaven, but there is a Hell.
Karm.
Its citizens glide along every day, whether in oblivion or fear, I’m not sure. They’re as lost as the era they follow. All the while, they pretend this is paradise, forgetting the Virus that devastated the world still works in our veins. They can abide by King Hart’s rules, but I won’t allow my parents’ memory to fade while I live in this sham of a utopia.
I will remember them and talk about them. Even if it angers my soon-to-be betrothed prince. My chest constricts with resentment. His smug and conceited air during the live transmission, his act of betrothing me without so much as an introduction first—never mind his neglect of properly asking my father for my hand—only confirms my father’s theory of the royals and this kingdom. They take what they want.
Even if the prince forces me to marry him, I’ll never forgive him for taking away the little time I had left with my father. He’s not my king yet, and he’ll never rule me.
I run my hands over my tunic, shaking out the hem to better conceal the leather sheath. All weapons are banned in Karm, except for the V-Batons and arming swords the Force and army of knights carry. They’re issued so the knights can enforce Karm’s order—the laws—although it’s rare for anyone to disobey.
I recall the public hanging again. I’d slipped away from my father to explore when that thief was caught stealing bread in the market. The Force strung him up in the center of the square and transmitted it live for all citizens to witness. No judge. No jury. The Force is both. King Hart allots his authority to his superior knights—his Round Table—to punish and keep order as if they’re an extension of him.
The more years that pass, the more King Hart’s order is enforced and followed. Too many fear the Force to go against the laws now. Even I stayed in line after the first time I watched the Force nearly beat my father to death. I kept my head down and followed along. Just like the rest.
Until this moment.
I watched my mother and now my father dragged off by the Force. Saw it happen to strangers and friends alike. I shouldn’t have listened to my father. I should have hidden him away as I’d planned. If I’m going to die of the Virus, I want it to be on my own terms. Not locked away in an underground dungeon, isolated and possibl
y beaten for something I have no control over.
Panic hitches my breathing. I’m here, in the castle, right under their watchful eyes. What if I develop symptoms? The prince would cart me off to the Oubliette at once.
My father’s frenzied attack on the Force haunts my mind. I’m to get as far away from Castle Karm as possible. These were his last words to me. This was his wish.
I clutch the hilt of the dagger and stare down at the stone wall surrounding Court. Renewed anger and determination rise within me.
I’m going to escape.
FOUR
Knock, knock.
“Princess Zara,” Maid Madity calls through the door.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I lift myself off the unturned coverlet. Damn. The maid rises early.
I look out the balcony doors, to the blue lines bleeding across the morning sky, like veins running through Karm’s body. Then I trudge toward the large mahogany door. She raps once more, and I fling the door open and stare into her honey-brown eyes. She’s only an inch or two shorter than me, but considering my petite stature, she can’t possibly be taller than five feet.
She’s not my ideal choice for an ally; I don’t know if she’ll report me. But she may be my only option.