29. Adrianna

29

ADRIANNA

T he carriage ride takes hours. Literal hours and hours. I ask a million times about why we can’t just use our speed to get us there faster, but apparently that’s not how you are supposed to travel as a monarch.

It’s ridiculous.

Raiden’s hand has been plastered to my thigh the entire journey while he glares at Janie. As much as Arlo wanted our late addition to travel in the remaining carriage, I refused to allow her to travel alone, so after a few minutes of Raiden and Arlo grumbling between themselves, I got my way.

She’s slept most of the way, splayed out on the cushion bench across from me.

My stomach grumbles, reminding me that I haven’t eaten because of the internal chaos I’m managing, but Raiden has promised we’re getting close. We better be, otherwise my ass is going to get hangry on top of everything else, and I really don’t think he wants that.

Reciting the expectations of me when we arrive, I let my eyelids fall closed. The rocking of the carriage is enough to tempt me with sleep, but I quickly startle awake when I hear Raiden grunt.

“Fuck.”

He’s staring out of the carriage door window, brows furrowed as he clutches the cover that doubles as a curtain. I place my hand on his, which still rests on my thigh, and his face whips to mine.

My gut twists, knowing what’s coming without him even speaking. “It’s bad, isn’t it.”

He nods in confirmation, his fingers twitching on the fabric for a beat, like he’s considering whether to show me or not, relenting a moment later when he reveals the carnage that awaits.

Shuffling closer as the carriage slows to a crawl, Raiden tugs me into his lap, holding the curtain open for me to see.

My heart stutters at the disaster that greets me, emotion lodging in my throat as I blink, willing the scene to disappear, but it only seems to grow sharper, harsher.

Rubble lies across the path; wood, stone, brick, and metal crumbled together in a pile of destruction, leaving nothing but ruin to hint at what once lay here. Civilians sift through the upturned mess, searching, pleading, praying as smoke still billows in the air.

It’s been over twenty-four hours and the turbulence of Clementine’s attack still remains.

“Fuck.” I grunt, my throat raw as I shake my head in disbelief.

“This is bad, Queenie.”

I turn at the sound of Janie’s voice to find her peering out the other window, her face pale as she dissects the carnage.

“Queenie?” Raiden asks, challenging the nickname that tumbled from her lips, and she turns to him with a smirk.

“It’s fitting. Besides, if you think I’m going to go around addressing her as Queen Adrianna or Your Majesty, you can fuck right off. I’m here as a friend, not a member of her staff or subject of her kingdom.”

Raiden glares, searching for a retort of his own, but I shake my head, silently pleading with him to drop it, and he seems to take it well, grumbling under his breath instead as I turn my attention back out the window.

More rubble, more smoke, more tragedy.

The carriage draws to a stop and I quickly emerge from the carriage, much to Janie and Raiden’s disapproval.

“Adrianna, wait. You know we’re supposed to go first. Okay, yeah, don’t worry about me then. You do you and all that, but when Arlo kills me because you’re reckless, then I’m going to haunt your ass for all of eternity,” he hollers, climbing from the carriage with a glare etched into his eyes.

“We die together, Raiden. Don’t make Arlo mad enough to kill you because that kills me, and we don’t want that, right?” My voice is sickly sweet as I wink at him, and I’m sure he grumbles something under his breath about hot fae queens being too much of a handful, but I can’t be sure because I’m quickly intercepted by a woman.

She grabs my arms, pleading eyes fixing on mine as tears streak her face. “Help us. Please, help us,” she sobs, releasing my arm to swipe at her face as Janie intercepts her, forcing her back a few steps.

“Don’t ever approach the queen in that manner again. Do you understand?” she snarls, protective mode activated, but I quickly shoulder past her to speak to the woman.

“I’m sorry about… them,” I murmur, pointing over my shoulder to find Raiden right beside Janie, both glaring at me. “They’re a little protective,” I soothe, running my hand down her arm, noting how filthy she is.

Her dress is tattered and torn, her hands caked in dirt and her hair wild from the wind.

“I’m glad you have protection when we have… this,” she sobs, dipping her head in defeat, and my heart aches.

“We’re going to help. We’re going to do whatever is necessary. Together, we’re going to fix this,” I insist, rattling her a little harder than necessary to make her look at me, to force her to accept my words, and to my surprise, she nods, even if it is weak.

“Please, we have nothing,” she says with a sniffle, rushing off without a backward glance.

Turning to Janie and Raiden, a sense of helplessness threatens to take root in my gut, but I push it back, taking a deep breath as I assess the madness we’re caught in the middle of.

“What supernaturals are here?” I ask, and they both give me an uncertain look. I should have asked that to begin with. Now I feel stupid.

Thankfully, another carriage pulls to a stop behind ours, and a moment later, Arlo steps out with Flora right behind him. Flora’s hand covers her mouth, her eyes watering as she takes in the destruction, and I have to look away before I let my emotions rise to the forefront.

“Arlo, what supernaturals are here?” Raiden asks, and he grimaces.

Shaking his head, he doesn’t answer until he’s right in front of me. “None. Shadow Oak was declared a human safe haven when your father was in charge,” he explains, and my gut twists.

Fuck.

“It’s about time you arrived, I?—”

“You must be Mayor Phillips. Please, catch us up to speed,” Arlo interjects, placing himself between the larger man and me. His suit is pristine, not a hair out of place in his peppered hairline, and he looks down on me with anger in his eyes.

“First,” Raiden interrupts, suddenly standing toe to toe with the man. “Address our queen correctly or she and her aid will be back across the border before you can fix your prissy tie,” he snarls. His eyes are wide, and I’m certain he’s eager to extend his fangs, reminding this man of what he’s capable of, but, thankfully, that’s not necessary.

Mayor Phillips clears his throat, fixing his suit jacket as his Adam’s apple bobs. “Queen Adrianna, thank you for coming.” He chances a glance at Raiden, who nods in acceptance, and the man eases a little. “We have over one hundred casualties at the hands of that sadistic woman and her followers,” he explains, making bile burn up my throat.

That’s bad. This is all really fucking bad.

“I’m sorry for the town's loss. What measures have already been taken in regards to damage control?” I ask, desperate to begin helping.

“We’re searching what remains of homes, registering all those we have lost, and taking refuge in the town hall. Some are foraging for any food we can gather while others are standing guard around the town hall, protecting the young and elderly or injured inside,” he explains, and I nod.

They’ve gone into survival mode, which is great. That means we can start focusing on rebuilding what was lost while they strengthen their bond as a community and support one another.

“What have you been doing, Mayor Phillips?” Raiden asks, tapping at his chin as he assesses the man, and I frown, unsure what he’s getting at, and it seems I’m not the only one.

“You’re going to have to explain what you mean,” he grumbles, fidgeting with the sleeves of his blazer as he peers at my vampire.

“I’m looking around, Mayor Phillips, and it’s clear to me that everything in this town has been met with catastrophe… except you.”

“Excuse you?” The mayor takes an offended step back as my frown deepens, until understanding dawns on me, but Raiden is already spelling it out for the man before I can speak.

“Look around, Mayor. Everyone here wears a pall of despair, stained with filth, and fumed with smoke, yet you’re standing here dressed to perfection. What have you been doing to help the people that need you now more than ever?” he asks, cocking a brow, and the mayor fumbles.

“I, well, I, uh…”

“Are you simply ordering everyone around or has someone else been taking command?” Arlo asks with a sigh, and the man slumps.

“Commander North has been orchestrating the recovery of our town,” he admits, waving toward a gathered group in the distance.

I’m moving before I realize it, the chorus of grumbling coming from behind me as I head off without protection once again, but they’re going to have to get used to it because that’s never going to be how I operate.

I lead from the front.

I need to remember that just as much as they do.

Nearing the group of thinly protected soldiers with threadbare armor, I halt. “Commander North,” I call, my gaze scanning across the crowd until a pair of eyes settle on mine.

I know it’s him without saying another word by the pain in his eyes, the determination in his stance, and the tic to his jaw. The jagged scar that rips down his face flares when he takes a step toward me.

“Who’s asking?”

My instinct tells me to play it cool, lay low, be the wallflower I was before I stepped foot on academy grounds. I’m used to running around the City of Harrows with my hood high and my back pressed against the shadowed walls, but now? Now it’s all different, and it’s time I started acting like a leader instead of a refugee.

“Queen Adrianna Reagan. Now, tell me how we can help.”