Of course, neither of them had known then how difficult such a road would be. Mina had been all of sixteen and the queen but two years older. The then-princess had no allies. The entire Echelon backed the prince consort’s regency, once he’d overthrown Alexa’s father. For Mina, finding the princess sobbing in the garden on her wedding day, the future had not seemed so dire. Marriage was expected for both of them. They were both highborn, their roles in life mapped out long ago—until the death of her own father and her subsequent infection with the craving had changed Mina’s life forever.

If she’d known…

Would you say the same thing to her again? Would you have set her on this path? Pushed her to marry a man who would slowly crush the life out of her?

She knew the answer to that, and it hurt terribly.

If she’d known the depths of the prince consort’s evil, Mina would have taken Alexa by the hand and never looked back. Instead, she’d helped trap her friend in a cruel marriage.

She squeezed Alexa tight, hating herself just a little. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t understand how bad it could be. They were words that she could never utter. The only thing she could do was work to right this wrong.

“I want him dead,” the queen whispered. “I cannot—I do not know how much longer I can last.” Her voice broke just a little. “Every night I lie there, thinking about what would happen if I kept a knife under my pillow. If one night, once he was through with me, he would fall asleep and—”

“You would not succeed.” Mina closed her eyes, squeezing them tight. “Even if you did, you’re guarded only by Coldrush Guards and Falcons. His men. I couldn’t get to you before they did as they wished, and I cannot say how far their loyalty to the Crown stretches.” That was a thought that kept her awake most days. That Alexandra would do something rash and be cut down for it before Mina even knew.

“You’re correct.” But the words were lifeless, and suddenly Mina wondered if her queen truly cared whether she survived this or not.

Panic was a cold, spiraling coil deep inside her. “One day you’re going to be free of him. I promise you. Then you can be the ruler you want to be, beloved by the people. The type of ruler your grandfather was. You can cast down the Echelon if you desire, and return the humans and mechs to their rightful places. Imagine all of those lives you’re going to change—” Dreams that the queen had held for years, but Mina couldn’t quite hide the desperate note in her voice. Fight, damn you. Just a little longer. “All of the plans we’ve dreamed over the years…come to fruition.”

The queen stared hollowly at herself in the mirror. “Just once, I should like to be a woman first and not a queen.”

“You are a woman.” Mina kissed her cheek. “You’re the strongest, bravest woman I know.”

“You’re my strength,” Alexandra admitted, her gloved hand sliding over Mina’s. “I would have given up long before this without you.”

Would have… Mina let out a little breath of relief. “Give me time. Once we have enough of the Cyclops to defeat the prince consort’s metaljackets, we can take action. I shall begin selling off some of our business ventures to raise capital and push it into the humanist quadrants. They can work faster with more men, more money… Give me until the end of the year at least… I will win you your freedom if I have to kill him myself.”

Finally a spark of life came to light in the queen’s eyes. “I know you would but we cannot rush. Not without risking his attention. If this fails, it will kill me.”

“Then perhaps we can focus his attention elsewhere,” Mina suggested, letting go of Alexandra. “Send him on a wild-goose chase hunting humanists where there are none? I’ve begun seeding rumors through the newspapers, suggesting that Mercury was simply a cover and that the prince consort executed the wrong man.”

“A dangerous move.”

“No more than most of them. The Nighthawks are showing increasing ambivalence toward his rule. I cannot see them tripping all over themselves to hunt down an imaginary revolutionary.”

The queen looked around at the mess at her feet. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“For being the one person I can rely on. For being my hope when I have none.”

Something thickened in Mina’s throat. “Always.”

“That being said, I think…I think I would like to be alone for a little while. Would you send Lady Baltimere in?”

With her special tea. “Alexandra, I cannot see the good in it for you—”

“I’m not asking you to.” This time a hint of steel edged the queen’s tone. Their eyes met in the mirror, the queen’s reddened and puffy.

Mina bowed. “As you wish.”

“Just this once,” Alexandra murmured, her gaze losing focus. “I just want to…not feel anything today.”

Mina pressed a kiss to the queen’s hair, her hopes dying a little. The doctors assured her the laudanum wouldn’t hurt the queen—indeed, quite the opposite—but she had seen the way it changed her friend, leaving her but an empty, dreaming shell.

How much of her would be left once the prince consort had callously carved away all of the pieces of her soul?

We could run away. Remember when we used to dream of that? But she said nothing, for the truth was that they were only pretty lies. The prince consort would never let the queen out of his grasp. They’d be lucky if they made it to Calais.

Unless I steal an airship. The bittersweet jest that made her think, of all things, of Barrons.

“Sleep well,” she whispered, stepping away and gathering her skirts. “And remember that our day is coming. Sooner than you think.”

“Mina.” A slightly tremulous voice, followed by a deep breath. “You cannot leave yet.”

She turned, trying not to look at that damning mark on the queen’s cheek. “I should return to the Council.”

“You know what he meant when he told you to take me in hand.” Strength was returning to the queen’s voice. She sat above the perfume battlefield, her skirts sweeping through the shards of glass.

“Please.” Mina’s throat constricted. “I don’t want to—”

“Not my face,” the queen instructed. “He won’t want it to be visible. But make certain it bruises.” Her chin lifted. “It wouldn’t do for my husband to think he needs to add his own, and if I can bear it…by God, you can do it to me.”