Charlotte III: The Aegis

  Deep in the throes of Spring, the Fortan Highlands remained coated in snow, an endless expanse of white the likes of which Charlotte hadn’t seen in nearly five years. Feeling that crunch under her boots while striding beneath a sunny blue sky felt downright bizarre, all the more so at a time of year when the Charentine had already discarded their various cloaks and jackets. Nor had it been any different in Malin.

  The Nocturne Gate hovered ominously about twenty feet in the air, surrounded by the scaffolding and platforms that Luce’s team had erected around it. For all its mysterious black grandeur, at once glossy and impenetrable in its texture, the small village of structures surrounding it had the effect of making it look small, a feat even Ortus Tower hadn’t managed with its own gate.

  Then again, the Ortus Gate had a diameter greater in size than the tower itself, while this Fortan one was perhaps five times the size of a breadbox. In the very worst case, if the resonance of the DV bomb with the gate cascaded out of control, that small size could prove a boon, as even a person would have to crouch down to make it through; for most of the spirits exiled alongside Khali, let alone the Spirit of Darkness herself, the aperture would simply be too small.

  Whirling cylindrical tanks of wet cement perched above the gate provided the other key precaution, ensuring that physical barriers were on hand to stop what metaphysical barriers, perhaps, could not. Charlotte had talked it through with Luce over and over, trying to probe for any risk factor that might have been missed while concealing her private disapproval that Luce had attempted to stimulate the Ortus Gate at all, however safe he thought it to be. This, at least, was an experiment conducted according to the scientific guidelines Luce lived by, as safe as it could possibly be made to be.

  And ultimately, safeguards for the experiment itself were beyond Charlotte’s purview and expertise. More important than providing a sounding board for the project manager was ensuring the security of all other aspects of this installation, fitting in neatly to the area where Luce’s own aptitude was comparatively lacking.

  On that front, Charlotte felt as confident and secure as she ever had; that was to say, she still felt a terrifying suspicion curdling in her gut after five laps around the complex. Kelsey Thorley had been handpicked by Luce right out of the College to revitalize Charenton’s transportation infrastructure, and chosen again to oversee the infrastructure set up around the Nocturne Gate. Charlotte had pored over every inch of his plans, then searched each wooden pop-up from top to bottom as soon as it was standing, ensuring that nothing was out of place before allowing work to begin. Yet Kelsey was still the son of Celice Thorley, a decades-long member of the Twilight Society, and had taken leave during several of the periods Marie Laure had identified as their gatherings.

  Could Monfroy have put his hooks in him, positioning him to sabotage the experiment? Charlotte had watched him as closely as anyone could and turned up nothing, nor were there any surprises in the architecture, but that only provided the slightest bit of comfort because his role in the project was largely done.

  The project scientists were another matter, for all that leaving Crete Marbury behind had significantly diminished the issue. Kelsey’s husband Toby might be reliable, but the respective satellites in each of their lives posed unaccounted risk. Verona Greenglass, for example, Russel Perl’s partner of two years, had been arrested at an anti-war demonstration and spent two days in the Guardians’ custody. Had Luce’s brother promised her freedom in exchange for information? Might her radical sentiments position her against the hated Prince of Darkness without any need for Prince Harold’s intervention?

  Srin Sabine was another concern, at best an agent of the Jays capable of wheedling information out of the Towers for leverage against Luce at a time when he needed every advantage he could get. And Charlotte couldn’t help but suspect the issue went deeper. Rebecca had even asked if her girlfriend could accompany them on the trip, a plainly ridiculous assertion that felt uncharacteristic for someone always focused on the science above all else.

  Luce had already understood a few of these concerns himself, and listened thoughtfully to the rest without contradicting them, but he’d judged the risk as one worth taking. “You’ll never find a scientist with no baggage, and these are the best there is—Crete aside. In that case, the risk was too high, but omitting her leaves us with the people we have. This is the safe way to do it.”

  Charlotte could understand that well enough for a truly essential project, like rebuilding Charenton or consolidating control over the Great Council, but this business with the Nocturne Gates... You’re doing all of this for a brother who tried to get you killed. But ultimately, it was his decision to make.

  At least the windows made it easy to check on them all in sequence, each patrol no longer than twenty minutes or so. Rebecca had her refined DV bomb split open on the table in front of her, a jar sitting next to it containing a withered white plant that Charlotte suspected had been pilfered, unauthorized, from Cya’s forest.

  Her frown only deepened when she saw Russel Perl taking notes in the same workshop, gesturing to the massive tanks of energy in his own empty workshop. He wore glasses and a wristwatch, hardly an unusual thing for a tower scientist these days, but the steel chain had been replaced with gold. With his little mustache and slicked-back hair, he reminded Charlotte somewhat of Simon Perimont and the other entitled Avaline socialites that had decamped in Malin to live out their debauchery.

  Rebecca seemed much more composed, fully immersed in the task before her, but she, too, had a notebook propped open beside her project. Her earrings also seemed a bit long for this sort of work, and the design itself looked somewhat bizarre, a black circle with a single white dot off-center, bringing to mind the image of a single open eye. I feel as if I’ve seen it before somewhere, but it’s hard to place.

  A similar feeling had overtaken Charlotte when meeting Rebecca’s paramour for the first time, and the explanation of her Jay mission hadn’t entirely been enough for the feeling to fade. More investigation was warranted, but there would always be another million things to do once Charlotte returned home to Charenton. For the moment, keeping this operation running smoothly and safely was a more pressing concern.

  Charlotte rapped her knuckles against the window to get Rebecca and Russel’s attention. “No notes! Burn them all.” The risk of DV bomb secrets leaking to the Stewarts whose land they were borrowing would simply be too high if said secrets were simply allowed to linger in written form. Decades of piracy had proven that, not least of which was the Railyard Robbery back in Malin. That had given Leclaire the resources she needed to build a fleet of her own trains, however ramshackle they might be, and nearly given the Governor the excuse he needed to kill Charlotte.

  So they can use the designated scratch paper, burn it at the assigned hour, and stop complaining about it.

  Rebecca groaned, then tossed her notebook in the general direction of the fire. It fell just short, so Russel lifted it off the floor and spun around, adding it to his own in a more forceful throw. Charlotte waited until she saw the last pages curl away to nothing in the fire before moving on.

  Yet it seems that smoke must still vex me.

  Kelsey Thorley wasn’t even pretending to work, resting his feet on his desk as he leaned back with the latest Arcadia Luna in one hand and a lit spliff in the other. “Outside,” Charlotte commanded him as soon as she entered, feeling the pungent odor of stale naca assault her nostrils. “My prince has been generous enough in allowing you this... indulgence.” Charenton is one thing, but possessing that substance is illegal in Avalon, and we can’t afford any slip-ups this deep in enemy territory.

  Kelsey shrugged. “Luce doesn’t care. He has indulgences of his own, as you well know.” He cracked a smile, as if repeating a word were the height of comedy.

  Was that a threat? Charlotte felt her brow crease downward into a right angle as she strode into the smoke, then ripped the spliff out of Kelsey’s hand and stubbed it out on the crowded ashtray in front of him.

  “Hey!”

  “My instructions were very clear. The Prince does not have time to manage this project and babysit the likes of you, and while he has allowed you to pollute your mind and body with the act itself, that does not entitle you to risk the entire operation by infecting your workshop with this stink.”

  “What’s there to stink up? The only things in here are mine, and the whole cabin is coming down when the experiment’s through.” He stared incredulously, as if doing so would change Charlotte’s mind. When her silent glare was the only response, he relented, recollecting his spliff and rising from his seat. “It’s freezing outside. I don’t know how the Fortans live like this.”

  “No doubt you will have ample opportunity to find out.” Charlotte lifted his book and pressed it to his chest. “Be sure to air out any paper that might have been contaminated as well, including your fictional pablum.”

  “It’s Curran Chupe, actually, with some extremely important urbanist theory to consider for my work. But go on.” He did, at least, have the courtesy to open the windows before departing.

  Perhaps I should have just let him go home now that his work is done. Luce had trusted him to come here after all, ties to the Twilight Society or no, but the risk that he might leak crucial information before the experiment could begin was simply too high to allow. All the more so without someone free to keep an eye on him.

  Luce’s cabin was larger than the rest, draped with purple and black cloth. Oliver and Irene stood watch in front of the door, parting as soon as they saw Charlotte approach. Much as Lord Arion’s swords had proven invaluable for their lack of conflicting loyalties in Charenton, so too were the Charentine shadows an excellent layer of security in Avalon. Elizabeth Stewart could offer them what she liked, but they had no ties to this land aside from their employer, Luce, and no reason to trust foreign aristocrats to be true to their word.

  Charlotte rapped the back of her hand against the wood, then waited for Luce’s response. “Just a minute,” he fired through the door, though all told it was about five before he finally opened the door.

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  “Oh, Charlotte! Sorry, I thought it was Russel again. Come in, please!” Despite the cold, Luce was dressed fairly casually in denim pants and a black shirt, long sleeves rolled up past his arms. His eyepatch was slightly askew, revealing a sliver of the cold blue flesh around his missing eye. “Actually, this is perfect timing. I want to know what you think.”

  Charlotte followed Luce’s gesture towards his desk, covered not in the usual mountain of active experiments, notes, and papers, but instead with three journals laid out side by side, each from a different location. “It happened the day after Rebecca left,” Luce told her, frowning. “I expected news to come slower this deep in the highlands, but now I’m beginning to think we should have set up telegraph towers.”

  Charlotte scanned the journals as fast as she could, noting the slight variations between each of them, though the underlying story was essentially the same: a massacre at the Cambrian Marina. His crimes discovered, Lord Monfroy had refused to go quietly, detonating a small device that killed him along with three dozen bystanders, all of them withered to dust.

  “How did he get his hands on a DV bomb?” Charlotte matched Luce’s frown. “From the sounds of the blast radius, it would have to be one of the new prototypes too. You’re certain Rebecca had already embarked?”

  Luce nodded, pulling out the ship’s travel log from under one of the journals. “None of them describe the device the same way, and The Cambrian doesn’t mention it at all. Hopefully that gives the project some cover, but now there’s a tear in the veil concealing it. Not to mention that we have no idea how heavily it might have been modified.”

  “It doesn’t matter. No one outside your organization should have been able to get their hands on one.” Which points a suspicious finger at Lucretia Marbury. Charlotte would have to find her as soon as they returned.

  “Our organization,” Luce gallantly attempted to correct her. “I’m worried we should push the whole thing back until we get a better handle on this. Lizzie Stewart’s supposed to come watch the fireworks with her retinue tomorrow, but I’m sure she could be convinced to wait another week.”

  Or cancel the whole thing, Charlotte thought but did not voice. “We can’t afford to be away any longer. As soon as Maddie Astor swears her oath to the Great Council, Avalon is yours. You need to be there when it happens to properly consolidate control, no matter the cost.” Of course, your brother will still be there, standing in the way as always, but invoking his name right now would be a mistake. “If it comes to that, it might be better to postpone indefinitely.”

  “You’re probably right,” Luce sighed, running his hand under his eyepatch. “We’ll proceed tomorrow as planned.”

  “As you wish, Your Highness.”

  “Damn it, Charlotte, how many times do I have to tell you to call me—Wait. You disagree, don’t you? That’s always when you go for the titles.”

  “Is it?” That’s not a pattern I would have liked to show. “My apologies.”

  “This whole thing, everything we’ve built, it works because of you. Building things up doesn’t do us any good if Monfroy or Leclaire or my brother are just going to knock it down. You’re the reason that hasn’t happened. You keep me safe, Charlotte. I can’t... I trust your judgement. You don’t need to hold your tongue around me.”

  “I know...” Charlotte perched on the arm of his chair, leaning on his shoulder. “But you already know what I think, and I’ve already heard your commitment to do this anyway. I didn’t see any good that could come of it.”

  Luce nodded slowly at that, seemingly coming to a realization. He threw on a black down coat and purple scarf, adjusted his eyepatch, then laced up his boots. “Come with me.”

  “What? Where are you going?”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her gently towards the door, only releasing his grip once the door was open to avoid anyone seeing. Not that we can do better than ‘open secret’ at this point, apparently. Kelsey’s crack about ‘indulgences’ was still bothering her, though not nearly as much as Prince Harold’s crueler jabs at his brother.

  The wind slapped them in the face as soon as they stepped outside, growing only more intense as Luce led her further and further from the compound. Eventually, their path wound its way behind a tall plateau, at which point Luce grabbed her hand again.

  The warmth was startling after the long, silent walk through the cold, the view only more so once they crested the summit. The Nocturne Gate was too small to make out, but the little village they’d built up around it looked surprisingly cozy at such a distance, not unlike a model.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Luce grinned as he looked straight at her. “I wanted a place to talk privately. You never know who’s listening.”

  “Sensible.” Charlotte matched his expression. “What did you want to talk about?”

  “Us.”

  “Oh.” Charlotte tried to conceal her disappointment. I knew this day would come eventually. “Say what you need to say, then.”

  “I—wait, I think you’re taking this the wrong way. I’m saying I finally listened to you about my brother.” What? Then why are we still in the highlands trying to save him? “Fernan passed a message along to my father with a request from me. He’s going to name me as his rightful heir, then abdicate.”

  “Cutting your brother out,” Charlotte finished the thought, then hugged Luce close. “I know it couldn’t have been an easy decision, but it’s the right one. He won’t be able to do any more damage once he’s out of power. You can finally begin healing your nation, as you did in Charenton.”

  “I hope so.” Luce tugged at his scarf, then adjusted his eyepatch again, correcting the crooked angle imposed by the wind. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying to save him. We’re not shelving this experiment for anything. But I can’t just stand there and watch him destroy Avalon any longer. He practically told me he doesn’t care what happens to it.” Luce shook his head ruefully. “So long as he makes his mark on the world.”

  “I understand,” Charlotte told him, and meant it. That fundamental goodness was one of the things that made her notice him in the first place, all the way back in Malin. She wouldn’t want him to discard it, just... to be a bit more pragmatic about it. This seemed like the perfect compromise. “You said this was about ‘us’. Did you want to plan out what to do once this new will is released?” Conversationally, it seemed like a bit of a stretch, but—

  “No. Not now. What I meant was... Harold also talked about you, and our... current understanding.”

  Instantly, Charlotte felt the warmth drain from her face. “And? What do you care what he thinks? He’s just trying to isolate you so you’re under his thumb again.”

  “Probably. Maybe.” Luce turned his head, looking out over the distant horizon, then turned back to Charlotte. “But he was right about one thing: this isn’t an equitable partnership. There’s a power I have over you that just can’t be—I can say whatever I want, but it doesn’t change the facts.”

  “You’re a Prince of the Blood, and I’m a foreign commoner,” Charlotte finished for him, trying to make it clear with her voice just how little that mattered to her. “There’s nothing to be done about that.”

  “Do you think so? Because I had something in mind.” His cheeks reddened as he stepped back. Once there were about three feet between them, he removed his eyepatch, showing her all of his face. “Charlotte, there’s no one in the world like you, so driven, so capable. And you’ve always looked out for me. It’s time I do the same for you.”

  “You already have,” she tried to cut in. “You took me from an expelled Malin Guardian to the commander of your shadows, the shield that keeps you safe. I could ask for no higher honor.”

  “You wouldn’t ask, that’s for sure. But that doesn’t stop me from offering.” Luce pursed his lips, staring deep into her eyes. “With Monfroy dead, all his lands and domains are forfeit. His heir is a child, easily set aside in light of his fathers’ crimes. I want to make them yours, to officially ennoble you as a Grimoire vassal.”

  Charlotte was taken aback. “That is a most generous offer, Your—Luce. But are you sure it’s wise?”

  “Essential,” he affirmed. “I saw what happened with my parents once their relationship soured. Or, really, once my mother noticed her husband had been replaced. If not for Uncle Miles in Fortescue, she would have had nowhere to run, entirely at his mercy. I want to make sure that can never happen to you.”

  “As if I’d ever need to run from you,” Charlotte scoffed. “Luce, this is very kind, but you shouldn’t let your brother’s barbs get to you like this. You don’t owe me anything.” She paused, taking in the weight of all he’d said. “Why are you comparing us to your parents, anyway? We’re not married, not even officially paramours. It’s a totally different... Circumstance...” Wait, is this really why you took me out here?

  “Until it isn’t.” Luce nodded. “There’s no one else I’d rather spend my life with. I want to make you my Princess of Darkness.”

  “Are... are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Please, Luce, be smart.

  He nodded. “I want to build an equitable partnership. I want you to feel like your voice is as valid as mine. And... I don’t want anyone ever trying to pull us apart.”

  And for a moment, Charlotte lost herself in the fantasy. Being able to hold him close in the open, having their love affirmed and officiated, ruling alongside each other in Charenton and Avalon... It was everything she couldn’t dare dream of. And that’s why it can never be.

  “I don’t want it either, but responsibility compels us to do things we do not want.”

  “What?”

  Charlotte took his hand in hers, affecting the softest tone she could manage. “Luce, you need alliances now more than ever. The Great Council could throw out that will if they felt like it, and your brother will ask them to do it. You need to be making inroads with allies, sealing alliances with firm pacts... and marriage. I bring nothing to the table in that regard.”

  “You can’t seriously think that. You’re the only reason I’m still alive!”

  How can someone so smart be such a fool? “Exactly. We didn’t need to wed for that. There’s nothing I can do for you as your Princess that I couldn’t as your Lieutenant. It’s bad politics, bad optics. This will deal you a grievous blow at a moment when you need to marshall your strength. We can’t.”

  “I’m not one to let that stop me.” His voice grew colder, his posture more rigid, sending a shiver down Charlotte’s spine. “This is a problem to be worked through, like any other. I’m not just going to give up because it’s hard.”

  Charlotte leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips, pulling back before it could turn into anything more. “You have to do what’s best for the realm. It’s your duty and mine.”

  “Does it have to be? Can’t we just this once be happy?” He sounded so earnest, so desperate that Charlotte couldn’t bear to answer. She couldn’t silence the voice in head asking the simple question, What if you just said yes? Damn Avalon, damn the consequences. If this was what Luce really wanted, then who was she to stand in the way? Was her job not to protect his vision, to nurture it, and shield him from the harms the wicked would wish to visit on him?

  But also to protect him from himself, as I tried and failed to do in Malin. Charlotte couldn’t let him burn his future down in the name of love, no matter how passionate, no matter how much she desperately wanted to agree.

  Instead, not voicing a word, she pulled him close and didn’t let go. All their other problems could wait until tomorrow.