"No!" I wake up screaming and pushing Kile away.

"It's me, it's just me," he's whispering.

Two nurses barge in and flick on the lights.

One rushes to me and the other scoots Kile's chair back so she can stand on the other side of my bed. They give me a complete once over.

I'm barely awake.

"I'm okay," I say, my voice garbled. "I'm fine. It was a dream. A bad dream."

It takes me several minutes to reassure my medical staff, but they finally leave.

"Sorry," I say meekly to Kile. He's looking tousled and concerned in that uncomfortable chair.

"I didn't wake you soon enough," he says, like it's his fault.

"I thought I had no privacy before," I try to laugh but it comes out wrong, like a drunk wheeze. 

Carefully, I scoot all the way to one side of the narrow hospital bed and turn to my side. I flip the covers down on his side and pat a spot for him. It's a very, very small spot.

He gives me a sleepy, skeptical look that I wish I could immediately sketch. I haven't seen that look before. He's got so many expressions, and I want to capture each one forever in my heart. 

With each blink, his eyes clear. He moves quickly to slide in next to me.

We're flush, I'm in my hospital gown, and he's in loose jeans and a t-shirt. I snuggle into his scent and wrap an arm around his waist. It's been so long since we were close like this. I almost feel, well, I do, I feel shy. I burrow my face in the crook between his shoulder and neck. I feel his shiver reach his entire body. It makes me smile.

He seems tentative also. His one arm supports my back and the other somehow finds my hand.

"At least I'm not hooked up to any machines that measure my heartbeat," I murmur. "That could be embarrassing."

He kisses my forehead. "Why?" he says with a knowing laugh.

If I wasn't sure before, I am now. I am healed. My back doesn't even twinge from his touch and my body is alive with happiness. Every synapse wants to be closer to Kile: more, closer, more.

"I miss being with you in your room. When no one knew I was there and we had...privacy. The way it used to be." I sigh.

He chuckles. "When you were constantly irritated that I was always crashing into you and dropping my books everywhere with my shirt, gasp, untucked?"

"Somehow that did the trick," I kiss his neck, the little hairs rising when my lips touch. He barely whispers my name and I press my chest into him. It's a shock, with me bare beneath the gown and his t-shirt so thin.

All of a sudden I feel breathless like I ran miles and miles but I'm also zinging with a pot-of-coffee level energy.

"Kile," I say, a question in my voice.

He sucks in a sharp breath. "Eady, I have to talk to you about something."

The tone in his voice is scary. Is it another girl? He met while off building houses? Maybe an uncomplicated, unscarred girl with easy smiles wearing her own untucked shirt?

"Oh, no. What is it?" I ask, and even though I feel my emotions rioting, I press into him, not willing to let go an inch. I can compete for this boy. He sure did for me. At first unwillingly, but then he put it all on the line, got crushed, and then put it right back out there for me.

He takes his hand from mine and props up slightly so he can see me better in the dim light of the hazy, still-dark morning. His face is full of love. I breathe a little more evenly. I trust him. I do.

"The public, guards, Sylva, my mom...they all still think you're engaged. I didn't want to say anything earlier because you have so much on your mind." He swallows and adds, "Everyone is looking at me like the other man. Like I'm stealing or cheating or something."

"No," I murmur. "That's got to be your imagination. No one thinks that. They all know the truth."

He's quiet.

"You want me to talk to Ean."

"I do. He's out there pacing sometimes. He watches me walk in and out of your room. I think he knows, but I'd love for you to be officially unengaged from another guy. Especially a stud like him."

I snort and cover my mouth.

"Exactly," Kile huffs.

"Hey, good news," I answer. "I'm moving back to my own room tonight. I just decided."

His eyes brighten.

"And I'll see Ean in the morning. When I'm dressed."

Kiles's stormy gray eyes scan down my body. He smooths my mussed hair and tucks a strand behind my ear.

"Maybe a turtle neck," he says.

I snuggle back into him. "Always tell me when something is bugging you," I whisper. "I want to help. I should have let Ean down by now. I actually forgot. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It'll be hard, I guess. To reject him."

"Why do I hear a smile in your voice?" I ask. "Jealous Kile is serious."

He laughs and presses another kiss near my eye.

"Closer," I say.

He kisses my cheek, letting his warm lips linger.

"Closer..." I say.

He kisses the corner of my lips.

"Almost there..."

He dips his head and kisses under my chin, which feels so good I arch my neck and moan.

"Nice," I pant, feeling his breath on my throat and his body against mine. "But not where I had in mind."

"I have to save something for after you break your engagement," he says, with a teasing edge.

"Oh, you're tricky." It must have really been bothering him.

"He was really broken up when you were kidnapped, so be gentle...but decisive."

"He's going to hate me. He'll probably join the rebellion."

"You know Leger loved your mother before he loved Lucy?"

"No." My hand goes to my throat. Why did no one tell me? 

"It was a kid love, like a first crush. It took a while to sort out what they wanted and with whom. Leger and I had a weird, long talk about it before I left. I think he wanted to show me that it's possible to have real friendship even with someone who rejected you."

"Aw, Kile..." I start to apologize but he shakes his head and plows onward. 

"Keep it in mind with Ean. I wouldn't want him to be your bestie, but I don't think letting him down will necessarily make him your sworn enemy."

"I have a history of dismissing Selection boys too harshly."

"Think forward, not back," Kile says, his voice taking on a sleepy quality. "My dad and mom taught me to always look for the good and make it better."

"Hmmm," I say. His words have a peaceful influence on me and I find myself drifting into the warm fog of slumber. Or maybe it's that I am finally back in the arms of the boy that I love.

It's barely dawn when I next open my eyes. A strange, new rush of determination runs strong in my veins. Kile's words are still dancing in my mind: Look for the good and make it better.

There was good in Hale, I know it. His heart, or mind, whichever was devoted to the needs of the people of Illea. He cared about the reform they so desperately need in the workplace and in their living conditions and for their overall health. I can make that better. That one spark he showed me can become a blaze with my power and ability. Should I draft legislation this morning and present it on The Report tonight? Should I address the encampment directly? 

The picnic idea was silly, I'm not picnicing while my people are in tents trying to instigate change. That confidently blind approach served my father well for decades but now it's time for a new tactic. My tactic. The country has grown since the castes were abolished, and the developing problems must be addressed head on. My first problem is personal: Ean. I'm sure he's asleep. Second problem is urgent: preventing harm from the rebellion. Which means getting answers from Neena, but Dad refuses to let me see her. Third problem: the encampment that is causing a seige and trying to be a coup. 

I need so much more information about the second two problems. I'm tired of being kept in the dark just because I've suffered trauma. I am still Eadlyn. I am still the person who was raised to be ruler. It's contrary to how I've been feeling since I've returned, but I know I can help. And not by stepping down. No, they need me.

Maybe the meds are finally working. Or my mind is healing.

The idea of the castle being surrounded by rebels is chilling. I need to see it with my own eyes. I need to figure out a way to appease my people without bloodshed.

I squint into the dim light and see Kile's tranquil expression. He slept with me in his arms until the nurse checked on me and he switched to the chair. There's a cot but he says that's too far. He has been my rock through this ordeal. He looks so peaceful sleeping with his lashes fluttering lightly against his cheek and his hair slanted over his brow. Even trimmed it has a mind of its own. His face is relaxed and his mouth slightly open. I have a sudden urge to sketch him again. The face is so different in repose. Kile. I could draw him in my sleep.

I decide not to wake him. I'll just take a quick peek outside.

I slowly sit up, careful not to pull the covers that Kile's cheek is resting on. I pause after sitting up, waiting for the sparks to fade from behind my eyelids. Then I slowly put my bare feet on the floor. The cold is shocking; I suck in a gasp. My feet are almost healed, thanks to the salve Dad knew about. It's crushing to realize it was developed to treat wounds inflicted by his own father.

I shiver, and it's not the cool night air. It's a legacy that is darker than I realized, and who knows what other secrets I have yet to discover.

I have to get a firm hold of the facts. Whatever way I can.

I slip into some soft cotton pajama pants and pull on my shrug from earlier. My hair is falling out of its poofy style but at least it's out of my eyes. I don't see socks so I tiptoe out the door, checking back to make sure Kile is undisturbed.

"Your highness?" Heath says in a low voice.

"Heath, can you come with me to look out the North Receiving Hall windows? It'll take just a bit."

"Of course. May I ask why you are shoeless?"

I pout at him.

"Or why you are whispering?" He frowns, like a big brother disapproving of my subterfuge.

"I just want a peek out the windows." I start in that direction.

Heath jerks his head and three more guards flank him. He strides just ahead of them and murmurs to me, "Is there a reason you've been kept from that side of the castle since your return?"

I can't tell if his question is rhetorical and I wonder if that's what he intended. I race forward, feeling like any minute I'll be stopped and made to return to my bed. This is ridiculous. I am the future queen! Or was. I deserve respect and all the facts! No more babying.

I'm panting when I finally reach the stairs leading to the third floor of the north end of the castle. Heath takes my elbow without me asking and helps me climb the dozens of stairs.

"I could carry you no problem," he mutters. "You're no heavier than a bale of hay."

I humph and keep going. I like the way that barrier between us, power, has dissolved. I need more friends.

We get to the largest room on this wing and Heath and another guard open the immense double doors. The receiving room is for welcome lines, greeting new Selection candidates, and foreign dignitaries. It's meant to accommodate hundreds, but is not as ornate as the Grand Ballroom, or even as big as the Small Ballroom in the west wing.

I scamper over to the huge bay windows, and peer out of the gold gilded window frames.

It's dark, but fires light up the rebel encampment.

It's a jaw dropping number of tents. Mostly makeshift, there have to be upwards of five hundred. People mill about, mostly in formations like they are keeping watch and walking perimeters, noticeable from my high vantage. Just that is way more organized than I thought they were capable of. Hale is a charismatic leader. But now I know he is organized, too. Somehow, he rallied all these people together.

In the center of the massive encampment are pavilion style tents, twenty or so, where the richer of the rebels must be staying. If I know Hale, he is staying with the poorer insurgents. What has he promised them? What can I counter with to get them to leave?

"It's an infestation," Heath says bitterly.

"How many do you think?" I ask.

"Thousands of people. All angry and armed," Heath says. "Your dad is trying to talk with them but they are ready to act. It's a matter of time before something happens -- if we can't get them to leave. How long can we remain in siege? What are our stores of provisions like? No one but your father knows. It's a stalemate right now, with no side budging even a bit."

I can tell Heath despises the rebels but I can also infer that he thinks a compromise or treaty could be made. I file that away. The other guards remain quiet. Their expressions are unreadable. That awful feeling shivers through me: not everyone is loyal to the King.

A dark shadow flits at the open doorway.

I cling to Heath, my nails digging into his uniform sleeve. "Did you see that?" I ask.

"It's Kile," he says calmly, resting a massive palm on my trembling shoulder. "He's been following us almost since we set out."

I relax and let Heath go.

"Kile?" I call out. My thready voice echoes over and over into the high ceilings. It makes me cringe.

Kile appears with a smile and a shrug. He is dressed, even with shoes. In his hand are the soft sneakers that I've been wearing when not in bed.

"You forgot your shoes, Cinder Eadlyn," he teases, a question alight in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't wake you," I rush to say. "I had to see this. I was coming right back."

He nods. "Next time wake me. I want to be where you are. If I hadn't noticed you leaving, I would have freaked when I woke up and you were missing."

"Oh," I race into his waiting arms. "I'm sorry," I say into his chest. "I didn't think of that." I'm not used to having a person who cares so much about me. Not like Kile does.

"It's okay," he says. "Did you get a good look?"

"You've already seen?"

"It's especially intimidating during the daytime."

I sigh. "What's going to happen?"

Kile shakes his head. "I was hoping you'd have some ideas. I know your Dad is stressed to the max. Leger is fortifying everything, and your mom is trying to support them both by being calm and reassuring. They outnumber our guards."

"But we are trained and have the security of this fortress," Heath inserts.

Kile seems surprised he would jump in like that but then considers what he said.

"True."

"Historically, there has never been an attempted coup this strong and large in Illea." Kile scratches his head. "I just wish I knew what they were planning. I'm sorry I don't have those papers, Eady. I looked everywhere, questioned everyone. I think they were destroyed by a sympathizer. Someone in the castle."

I shiver and huddle into his warm arms. "It's creepy."

"Agreed," Kile says. "I don't feel right unless I'm with you. Ideally Heath is here, too."

"Not to be rude, but you also are a target, Mr. Woodwork. You are a crucial asset to the kingdom with your philanthropic work receiving the strongest support of anything the ruling body has done in years."

I tighten my hug around Kile's torso. Nothing can happen to him. I have to make sure of it. I put him in that job.

"I need to talk to Neena," I say firmly. "I need to question her. I know her best. She was my maid and I saw the way she was with Hale. She is in love with him. I know it. I think I can get some information out of her."

"No one has gotten anywhere with her," Heath says.

"I can. I know it. I'll get her to crack. Somehow..."

"That sounds like a very bad idea," Kile says.

I reply, "Let's get going."

The dungeon is down endless twisting stairs made of a textured stone that is easy to slip on. I keep my hand on the slick wall as we descend. I'm glad I took a minute to pull on a thick robe and brush my hair out. It's freezing down here. I also took a second to put on my power lipstick shade of plum. I think I"ll need the confidence. The lower we go into the bowels of the castle, the more I am reminded of what Neena did to earn her spot here. She has a lot of atoning to do. And it starts now, with me getting answers from her about the rebels plans. 

"Tell me again why this can't wait 'til morning?" Kile asks. The lighting is dim, just a sconce every ten feet or so. Heath leads the way and a dozen guards are around us. I basically ordered Heath to do this. If he wouldn't, I said I'd get a less familiar guard to do it. I am still at the top of the chain of command. He agreed quickly at that threat. I'm doing what I have to, I think to myself. I don't like bullying my staff but I have to take control of this coup and turn it right for the monarchy. Amazingly, I thought I wanted the monarchy taken down. But never like this, not forcibly and chaotically at Hale's violent hands.

"Because my dad would catch me then," I pout, frustrated that my soles are already aching and my eyes puffy from strain. I'm out of breath and woozy but I keep descending into the gloom.

"I've never been in the dungeons," I whisper to Kile.

"Me neither," he says. "Remember when Ahren would dare us to go down here?"

"Yeah, then he'd call us chickens. Fine by me. I'm feeling like we were very smart back then."

The stairs open up into a stone walled circular room with a higher ceiling and dark hallways going off in each direction. There are two more levels encircling the room. I wonder who we keep down here and why. Shouldn't I know that?

Guards stand at attention at each of the five pillars bordering the room. On the floor is Illea's crest set in darker stone mosaic-style.

Heath goes to speak to the other guards, directing them to form a huddle around him as he barks out instructions. He can be extremely intimidating. Good thing I know he'll compare me to a bale of hay, find me the best manicurist, and befriend an intellectual like Eric. He keeps his softer side well hidden. Admittedly, it's only so soft.

"Don't let Neena touch you," Kile whispers, pulling me in for a much needed hug. "Don't let her threaten you. Or call you names. Or see your injuries too clearly. Don't tell her the papers were taken, or the—"

"Shh," I say. "It's going to be okay."

"I have a bad feeling about this," he says.

"This way," Heath calls out, and leads us down a dark, low ceilinged hall to the right. I couldn't find my way back to my room even if I wanted to. How on earth did Hale get those blueprints of the castle? I don't even have those available to view.

Finally, we get to a door with a small barred window at eye level. Heath indicates that it is the one. I take a deep breath.

"Neena?" I call out. "Neena? Are you in there? It's Eadlyn."