“I didn’t know what else to do,” Trev stammered. “I didn’t have my gun on me.” His stomach dropped, thinking back to that moment. Why would he think to put a gun in his boot on his wedding day?
“What you did was enough,” Drake said reassuringly. “Is she going to be okay?”
Bryant shook his head like he was trying to keep his growing distress in check. “We don’t know.”
“Do we know anything about the shooter and why he did this?” His father looked to Drake, wanting more answers.
“I shot him, and he didn’t make it. I did a quick check of his pockets, and there wasn’t anything there to identify him. He isn’t anyone that I recognize from the palace or city. I would have remembered hair like that.”
“I’m sure Adler is behind this,” King Carver said, fury in his voice. “Who else would do such a thing?”
50
Joniss
Wedding guests were everywhere. After the guards released them, people ran down the halls to get to their rooms. Others were in the palace courtyard, yelling at servants for a transporter to be brought around. Servants worked hard to clean up the blood. This much, Joniss had figured would happen, but what he didn’t count on was something to go wrong, which it had.
Something had gone very wrong.
Guards were positioned outside Adler’s door. As Joniss approached, both men pointed their guns directly at him.
“Step away from the door!” one of them shouted.
Joniss put his hands up in innocence. “Calm down! I’m unarmed. I just want to talk to King Adler.”
The two men looked at each other, a silent conversation between them.
“I don’t think he’ll mind. Tell him it’s Joniss Doman.”
One of the guards slowly backed up to the door and knocked. An assistant opened the door, and the guard spoke in hushed tones then the door shut again. A moment later, it was flung open.
“Search him,” the assistant barked.
Joniss laughed. “I think we both know I am not your enemy here.” But he raised his arms again, letting the guards search for weapons.
“All clear,” the guard said. Joniss pushed past the man and into Adler’s room.
Adler lay casually on his bed, legs crossed, pillows propped up around him. Nobody would have ever guessed that thirty minutes ago, Adler had been a part of a shooting.
“Can I help you?” Adler said coolly.
“What was that downstairs?” Joniss tried not to let his anger ruin the conversation.
“What do you mean?” Adler played stupid.
“Your man didn’t follow my plan.” Joniss wasn’t in the mood for any games right now.
“Your plan?” Adler finally stood. “Your plan was weak and only served your interests. You wanted me to do your dirty work for you. To kill Prince Ezra so that you could easily take the crown. I didn’t like that plan, but I did like the idea of a dramatic wedding shooting. That was good stuff.”
“Killing Ezra would have helped you. I would’ve won the election and would be your ally.” Why couldn’t Adler see that?
“I don’t need allies.” His eyes had all the confidence of an illegal arsenal behind them.
Joniss shook his head. “What was the point of targeting Princess Seran? It makes no sense.”
“It makes complete sense. Prince Ezra is not a threat. My biggest threat is New Hope and Albion joining forces. Their alliance is my biggest threat. That’s something I can’t have. Now there’s no marriage treaty. King Bryant won’t want anything to do with Albion once his daughter dies here. The alliance will be off.”
“We had a deal,” Joniss said, desperation surging in his chest.
“Yes, you gave me information, and I paid you for it,” Adler said plainly.
“You were supposed to carry out my plan in exchange for that information.”
“Didn’t I?” Adler looked around the room at his assistant and guards. “I pretended that Carver tried to kill me. I pretended to be angry about it. I had one of my men, who is dead now, stop the wedding by shooting a member of the royal family. I think I did my part.”
Joniss clenched his fists, grinding his teeth together. “My plan was to kill Ezra.”
“I don’t carry out anybody’s plans except for my own. Now, if you could leave me, I have to get ready for a long journey back to Tolsten.”
The air escaped Joniss. “I can expose you, you know.”
“No, you can’t.” Adler’s lips curled up. “Then everyone will know you and your father were the lying backstabbers behind it all. You’ll never become the king because you’ll be hanged for treason.”
He was right. Adler had backed him into a corner, and there was nothing he could do about it. The old saying was true; don’t play with fire or you’ll get burned.
51
Trev
Gaines entered the king’s office, whispering something in King Carver’s ear that made his father’s face twist downward.
Trev stood abruptly. Was there news about Seran? It had been a little over an hour since the shooting. Since then, they had taken Seran away to the medic hall and released the royal family from the safe room. Trev couldn’t stop worrying. Couldn’t stop seeing her pained face. Hearing her cry for help.
“Bring him in,” his father said to Gaines, and then he turned to the rest of the men. “Adler’s here.”
Adler walked in the room, bringing a thick tension that covered the room like fog on a winter’s night.
“I came to say goodbye and offer my condolences,” Adler said, seemingly unaffected by their accusing glares.
“Condolences? She’s not dead.” King Bryant flared red with anger.
“Of course. My apologies.” But Adler didn’t seem apologetic at all.
“Leaving so soon?” Trev hated the disgusting man.
“Can you blame me?” Adler coughed out a laugh.
“I can blame you for a lot of things,” Trev said.
Drake gave his arm a warning squeeze.
Adler raised a cocky eyebrow. “As I can blame you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” King Carver scoffed.
“Only that I believe Albion, more importantly, King Carver, is behind the shooting today.” Adler looked at King Bryant as he spoke. “It wouldn’t be the first time this week that Albion has tried to kill someone from another kingdom. I would know.”
“That’s ridiculous.” King Carver’s arms flew out in front of him as if pushing the awful truth away. “Why would I try to kill my future daughter-in-law?”
Adler shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe we should ask my sister, Queen Avina, your wife.” Adler glared at him. “Oh, but she’s dead, and you killed her.”
King Carver stood, every muscle taut, his face and ears tipped with red. “You know I didn’t kill Avina. She killed herself!”
Adler spoke to Bryant. “There’s a pattern here. All of us keep sending our loved ones to Albion to make great alliances, and what happens? They die. King Carver doesn’t care about them. He didn’t care about my sister, and he certainly doesn’t care about Princess Seran. I would’ve never considered an alliance with Albion for my own daughter. I wouldn’t want Myka to die.”