Broken Crowns. Lauren DeStefano
sense that she was idealizing things when she said he could be reasoned with.”
The king’s castle has begun to emerge from the distance, and I’m getting a queasy feeling in my stomach.
“Whatever you do,” Nim says, “don’t let on to the king that you know anything about the phosane. He doesn’t think much of broads anyway, so all you have to do is act dense. You don’t know anything. You just want to help.”
That shouldn’t be hard. King Ingram makes me so uneasy that it’s hard to speak around him anyway. Maybe it’s a good thing Pen isn’t here; she isn’t intimidated by anyone.
It’s a perfectly sunny day, but when we reach the castle, it doesn’t glimmer as much as it has in the past. A shadow seems to loom over it.
Nimble brings the car to a stop. He turns in his seat and looks between Basil and me. “Say as little as you can,” he says. “Be dumb. If the king realizes you know more than he does about the city sinking, you’ll never get what you want. You’ll be trapped here working for him.”
Two of the king’s guards have been waiting for us, and they open the car doors so we can step out.
“King Ingram and his guest are expecting the three of you,” a guard says. “Right this way.”
I have come to hate this castle. The waste of it. How many bricks were laid, and how much money went into this sprawling palace filled with empty rooms? On Internment, children dream about whether castles exist. I used to dream as well. But in my grandest dreams, the castle was not half the size of this one, and every room was filled with parties and food and dancing girls in sweeping dresses, not a gleaming stone gone to waste.
I’m grateful that Basil is here beside me. When I begin to feel that I’ll drown in this world and its strange luxuries, he makes me remember who I am, where we come from.
“You’re here, you’re here!” King Ingram is clapping as he greets us in the hallway. He walks straight to me and takes my hand in both of his and kisses my knuckles with enthusiasm. “Now I’ve seen your brilliant little kingdom for myself. It’s magnificent!”
“Thank you,” I manage, startled by his energy.
“And your friend the princess was kind enough to give me the grand tour. Your people were so happy for her return that there were parties daily. Parades. A marvelous festival.”
The only celebration we have on Internment is the Festival of Stars in December, and it both worries and intrigues me to think of the celebration he’s describing. King Furlow must have been frightened if he was willing to expend the city’s resources to throw such an affair.
But when I realize that King Ingram is waiting for me to speak, what I say is, “And how is Princess Celeste?”
Nimble stands beside me now, and I see his face come alive at the mention of her name, but he quickly hides within himself before the king might notice.
“The poor thing has taken ill. The festivities were a bit much for her. But she is back at home in her charming clock tower castle getting the rest she needs. The journey back to Havalais would have been too much for her, but she sends her love. And I’ve brought a surprise for all of you, sent from your King Furlow himself.”
King Ingram leads us to his parlor, saying “Come, come!” as he goes, like a child excited to receive a gift rather than a king about to give one.
He throws open the heavy wooden doors, and Prince Azure rises up from the wing chair. He is dressed in the fashions of this world: a plaid sport jacket with a silk handkerchief in his pocket, and gray pants with sharp creases. But even in the foreign fashion, something about his posture makes me think of home.
“May I present to you Prince Azure of Internment,” King Ingram says.
Basil and I feign surprise. He nods into a bow, I into a curtsy.
“Your Highness,” Nim says. “Welcome to Havalais.”
“Such formality!” King Ingram says. “It’s nice to see young people with a regard for custom. Refreshing. But please sit. Sit!”
I sit on the same couch cushion as I did the very first time I met the king, Basil at one side and Nimble at the other.
It has been mere hours since I saw Prince Azure, but he looks the worse for wear. Or perhaps it’s only that the lantern light concealed his true condition. He is pale, with light purple bags under his eyes that have been dabbed over with cosmetics. He seems smaller in the daylight, regal but still frail. His hair has grown a bit longer, and a lock of it is doing little to conceal a series of pink scars at his right temple.
He meets my eyes but offers neither a smile nor a frown. A politician’s neutral gaze, so much like his father. “I’ve heard quite a bit about this world, and I’m glad for the opportunity to see it myself,” he says.
“Yes, yes, we have quite the itinerary planned,” King Ingram says. “Tomorrow afternoon, we’ll be presenting our Prince Azure to the rest of the kingdom. My staff is already at work organizing the festivities. There will be radio announcements broadcast today at the top of every hour.”
“Plans?” Nimble says.
The king looks to Basil and me. “Well, yes, of course. Our Havalais has fallen on some dark times, I think you’d agree. Warfare, bombings, deaths, and devastation. Of course the phosane mining will fix that, and soon enough peace will be restored. That’s all well and good, isn’t it? But all of that is a lot to take in, and the people will need a bit of a morale boost, yes? Someone to cheer for.”
“Morgan and Basil have expressed a willingness to help, of course,” Nim says. “Father said he spoke with you about that.”
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