“As I was saying, before my dear husband thought to join us”—he continues his marching, unaware of the barbed gaze Marion shoots in his direction—“I am so happy to know that both you and Ashwood escaped last night’s inferno unharmed.”
“Not much of an inferno if they were able to contain it so quickly with just buckets of sand and water,” Highgate grumbles, although neither of us asked for his opinion.
With a sigh, Marion sets down her teacup. “Tell me, husband, how would you have preferred they extinguish the blaze?”
“As women, I do not expect you to know the difference and that an inferno is not simply a large fire. It is raging, uncontrolled flames that burn with such ferocity and intensity that they can and will consume everything in their path. You see, the term ‘inferno’ denotes a fire that has grown beyond the manageable confines of an ordinary flame, becoming a destructive force of nature.”
He pauses his pacing, drawing out the explanation for dramatic effect. “An inferno generates an amount of heat so immense that it can cause materials nearby to ignite spontaneously, even those that would not normally burn. It can engulf forests, towns—”
“Give it a rest,” I groan. “We don’t need you to explain fire to us. We get it. We were literally there.” I exchange a glance with Marion, my patience completely gone. I came here to talk about last night, to talk about Kane (in and out of bed), and to figure out when would be the best time to go snooping for my purse without arousing suspicion, not to hold court for a distracted man who doesn’t want to be alone. “Speaking of being anywhere else, don’t you have somewhere to be, or are you just going to pace around us the whole morning?”
Marion swallows a laugh and, ever the diplomat, offers him a polite smile. “Yes, Highgate, do sit if you’d like to join us. You’re making our guest uncomfortable.”
Highgate’s lips press into a thin line, and he pulls out his pocket watch, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath. “I do have an important meeting to sit in on with Four and Ashwood while the king continuesto recover from his minor injury. Trade negotiations and what have you.”
“Don’t let us keep you,” Marion coos, blinking up at him over the rim of her teacup.
“Yes, well, then, I must be off.” Without another word, he turns on his heel and strides away, the door clicking shut behind him.
I let out a frustrated sigh, shaking my head. “Doesn’t it bother you that he thinks we’re brainless because we’re women and that we’re expected to just sit here and drink tea while the men go make all the rules?”
Marion’s smile fades, and she sets her teacup down with a softclink. “Of course it does. Especially when Highgate enters one of these spells when he can’t seem to sit still. I wonder how clearheaded he is when there’s obviously something bothering him, but this is the way it has always been. A huge disruption would have to happen to cause change. And, even if change were to occur, it wouldn’t be overnight.”
“It’s ridiculous that we’re not even allowed in the same room as the discussions.”
“Hannah, I had no idea how much you valued the trade deal between our two kingdoms.” Marion’s brow arches as she suppresses another laugh.
“Okay, so I might not care about trade deals, but there’s clearly something going on within the kingdom. There was a mob outside the gates when Ashwood and I arrived. Yesterday two men tried to kill the king and burn down the palace along with all the nobility, and with what Ashwood has said about the state of the kingdom—how it’s near collapse and its people are starving…? So, no, trade deals don’t matter to me. WhatI care about is sitting back and doing nothing when so much needs to change.” I bite my lower lip and clasp my hands in my lap before I climb further onto the soapbox I haven’t shouted from since college.
It’s not that I’ve never cared about my future as a whole. I have. Ido. But it’s always been structured and confined. What will the next year look like at Posh Pulse? The next three months with Chad or Brian or James? Should I commit and save up for the stick-on wallpaper I keep seeing ads for? None of my thoughts about the future have ever been big or grand or even detailed enough to require a dot planner. I thought that was a strength, or if I’m being honest, I never really thought much of it at all. Maybe I should. Maybe the Hannah in Towerfall is closer to who I really am. Or at least who I want to be.
“It is true, since the death of the former king, Pentacles has quickly declined. As you know, there is a certain amount of insulation that comes with being a member of the nobility. We can choose to be oblivious to the true extent of the suffering outside these walls.”
She pauses, glancing around as if the stones might have ears.
My skin prickles, and I look around the room, paranoid that we’re being bugged even though this world doesn’t have electricity, much less spyware. This isn’t the first time Marion has been cautious about what she’s saying.
Even more of a reason for you to find that card and get out of Towerfall, Hannah.
“The people are desperate. They’re starving, and they’ve lost faith. They are furious with the palace, thenobles, and the new king. Anger and resentment are growing, and it’s only a matter of time before that hatred boils over into something more dangerous. I am afraid I agree with Ashwood’s statements last night. If something isn’t done soon, there will be nothing left to save.”
“Why is there no urgency within the palace?” I ask. “Why hasn’t anyone done anything?”
Marion takes a deep breath, her fingers tracing the rim of her teacup. “My father died some time ago. He was well, and then he was slightly ill but not too ill to do the things he loved. And then he died. People who knew him said it was sudden and could not have been prevented. My mother, however, says that when she looks back, she can see that he was disappearing right before her eyes. At the time, they were still living life, fulfilling their duties, having fun. But when he diedsuddenly, it was all too apparent to her that they had squandered their chance to save him.”
“Marion,” I say, covering her hand with mine, “I am so sorry.”
Shaking her head, she blinks the tears from her eyes. “It was years ago, and I only speak about my father to say that the nobility is the same. They are living life, fulfilling their duties, having fun with all their comforts and power. They don’t see the urgency because they don’t feel the consequences. It’s easy to ignore the cries of the hungry when you’re feasting on delicacies every night. And those who speak out against the problems have a way of disappearing.”
Like Kane. Like you if you continue to stay in this world.
“But that doesn’t mean we are powerless,” Marion continues, setting down her teacup. “We may besurrounded by those who refuse to acknowledge the suffering taking place, but we don’t have to. There is something we can do.” She nibbles on a small cake and dabs the corners of her mouth with a napkin.
“What is it?” I prod. “And please don’t say it ends with us mysteriously disappearing.”
“Only if we don’t get caught.” She smiles, but I don’t match her mirth.
I want to help—I do. It’s why I care so much about the corporate-responsibility side of marketing. I can see how much Pentacles needs people who care. But I also want to go home. And I can’t go home if I’m dead.
