“Wrong,” I say. “The king has killed every one of my family members. He’s taken my friends and family from me. I hate him with every fiber of my being.

“The king wanted me—so much so that he changed his peace treaty on my behalf. He thought he’d keep me in Geneva with him. And when my father refused to let that happen …” I close my eyes and breathe slowly, “the king had him killed.”

There’s angry murmuring. People are confused, and I don’t have it in me to clarify the situation more. In fact, I don’t have much of anything left in me, period.

I place the mike back where I found it and walk off the stage. There. I’ve done it. Said what I needed to say. And now I can quietly fall apart.

The rest of the day blurs. Will is beside me for most of it, except while I bathe. I’m actually afforded a real bath, not just a basin of water and a washcloth like usual. It has nothing on the king’s showers, and it’s still not enough to wash off all the blood, but it is familiar. And familiar is what I need at the moment.

Since I returned to the bunker, the representatives—minus me and Will—have been locked inside that room of theirs, no doubt trying to figure out what to make of this mess.

Once I finish bathing, I return to my room. Will’s already there, waiting for me. I walk right into his arms and allow myself this closeness. I rub my face into the rough material that covers his chest, enjoying the feel of a body.

The sensation reminds me of the king’s skin pressed against mine. The dark promise in his gaze.

I pinch my eyes shut. The last thing I want is to remember him fondly.

Will’s arms encircle mine, and we stay like that for a long time, saying nothing. I can feel Will shaking; the situation bothers him too.

I finally pull away from him. “I need to sleep.”

“I’ll stay with you,” he says.

I shake my head. “No. I want to be alone.”

Will frowns. “You’ll be okay?”

No. “I promise.” I give him a small smile to further convince him.

He looks torn.

“Seriously Will,” I say, “the representatives need you more than I do.”

He flinches at my words; I hadn’t meant them to sting.

“Please,” I say, “find out what’s going on with them so you can tell me when I wake up.” Which might be never.

Reluctantly he nods. “If you need me, you know where to find me,” he says. He hesitates, and I can see he’s trying to figure out whether he should kiss me.

“Go,” I say, giving him a push; I don’t want anyone’s lips on mine in a long, long time.

I don’t know how many hours I lie there, locked somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Long enough to hear my roommates come in and whisper to one another as they get ready for bed. Long enough to hear them leave sometime later, and long enough for several people to crack open the door and poke their heads in only to quickly retract them and leave.

At some point I realize I’m no longer sleepy, merely weary. I haven’t eaten in a while, though someone has left a plate of food and a glass of water next to my bed. A sick part of me wants to never again eat. I want to waste away until I join my parents in death.

Eventually someone comes in, and they don’t leave. I feel a hand shake my shoulder. “Serenity, wake up,” Will says from behind me.

I’m too tired to even tell him to go away, so I merely lay there.

“Serenity, the representatives need you. They’ve made contact with the king.”

I burst into the conference room, feeling more alive than I have for the last day or two. The king’s face is plastered on the enormous screen. He looks tired, his eyes sad.

“You haven’t eaten,” he says. I don’t know how he can tell over the screen.

The representatives glance between Montes and me. They know that something happened between us, but they don’t know what.

Behind me Will puts his hand on my shoulder. The king’s eyes flicker at the movement.

I shrug Will’s hand off and approach the camera set up in our conference room, just so that the king can see my anguish more clearly.

“Why?” I whisper.

He watches me with solemn eyes but stays silent.

“I was willing to do what you asked, so why did you have to take the one person that mattered to me?”

His face is stoic.

“Why?” I ask again, this time louder.

When he doesn’t answer, I scream like a wild animal. “Answer me!” I shriek. Hot tears snake down my cheek.

Instead of doing just that, the king’s attention returns to the general. “Do we have an agreement?”

I follow the king’s gaze to the general. “An agreement?” I ask. How could the WUN and the king agree to anything at a time like this?

I glance at Will. Only now do I notice that his eyes are red rimmed. My gaze darts back to the general, who’s rubbing his eyes. He drops his hand and looks at me for a moment before returning his attention to the screen.

“We do.”

My heart patters away in my chest.

The king’s eyes find mine, and he stares at me for several seconds before moving his gaze over the room. “Congratulations ladies and gentlemen. The war is officially over.”

My mouth is gaping long after the king’s image disappears. The room’s quiet, abnormally so.

I’m the first to speak. “What just happened?”

My eyes land first on Will, who looks like he’s only barely holding it together. Then they move over each of the representatives. None of them will meet my gaze.

My breathing speeds up, and at the back of my mind I worry that I might pass out from anxiety. I’m weak enough that it’s a distinct possibility.

“Why won’t any of you look me in the eye?” My voice rises.

No one responds.

“What. Just. Happened?” My voice cracks.

Still no response. I put a hand to my head; I’m feeling faint.

“Sit down, Serenity.”

“No,” I snap. “Not until someone tells me what’s going on.”

A muscle in the general’s jaw twitches. “The king approached us with a peace agreement.”

“And you accepted it. In the wake of what happened, you still accepted it.” I am a hair’s breadth away from losing it.