The sound is even grainer than the video, but I can still make out the words. I grit my teeth as William cups my wife’s face. He touches her like he has a right to. Now I doubly regret my decision to end his life.

As I watch and listen to the entire interrogation—which really isn’t an interrogation at all—my breathing slows. The Resistance knows so much more about me than I believed. I thought this might be the most worrisome aspect of it, until William threatens my queen.

“She’s associated with the Resistance,” Henry says.

“I can damn well see that,” I snap.

I glare at the man on the screen. I should’ve gotten more information out of this piece of shit. They’ve set their sights on the throne, and they plan on using my wife to usurp me. This needs to be suppressed stat.

I’m a cold-blooded bastard. I know this, the world knows this, and most of all, the queen knows this. Yet as I watch her, my heart pounds madly. She’s vicious and frank, and she’s not giving into their demands.

If I didn’t understand her, I might’ve worried that she was some sort of double agent. But Serenity doesn’t hide her violence and anger. No, she puts the worst parts of herself out on display and hides the best aspects of herself. Even that she’s not so good at because she’s risking torture and death by defending me.

She’s the most fearless person I know.

My opinion of her only increases when she slugs Will, and again when she pulls his own gun on him.

It doesn’t take a genius to know I married up.

Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Serenity

I’m returned to my hospital room where I languish until I’m questioned on my time spent in the warehouse. It’s a sad day when giving a statement is preferable to the alternative—leaving me alone to my thoughts.

After the stunt I pulled with Will and the king, I have extra guards watching me throughout the day, none of whom want to make small talk. I burned that bridge either when I killed their comrades, or when the king threatened them with death for listening to me.

Hours tick by before I see Montes again. By then the officers are long gone, as are the painkillers I’ve been fed. Several sets of shoes click against the linoleum floor outside my room.

The king doesn’t knock. He stalks inside, his men filing in behind him. My eyes flick to them.

Montes crosses the room, cups my face, and kisses me long and hard. It’s over before I can react.

“Let’s get the queen out of here,” the king orders his men. There’s shuffling.

“Does this mean I’m all better?”