After the Walls

Chapter 9

Edward's shrill laugh dances across the expanse of fields, carrying into the liquid night sky above. He hastens along the straw path, tossing droplets of the shadowteeth blood onto the rotting crops, grinning like a madman as the goods spring to life, filling with colour and life.

"Do you think this is enough to make them forgive me?" he asks as he tosses the last of the blood onto a patch.

I bend down, yanking another potato from the now-rich soil. "If this means they can feed their families without fear of it being used against them, I think you are on the right path."

He nods, peering into the now-empty bottle with a frown. "We will need more of this stuff to complete the rest of the fields."

"I will go beyond the walls tomorrow."

He grins, stepping forward and slinging his arm over my shoulder. "Let's go home, Elle." He steers us towards the exit. "Tomorrow, we announce the news and the festival!"

--

The maids flock to me like a gaggle of geese, poking and prodding me, fluffing up my dress, brushing makeup onto my face, and arranging my curls.

"I can't believe he's done it," one lady says to another. "He actually healed our crops. After generations of Lord Sneya and his predecessors starving our people, we no longer have to live in fear."

The second lady gushes. "I think he's quite handsome. Perhaps Edward Mallory is better than our president was. I mean, he's solved our famine crisis. It is a shame his father abandoned him outside the kingdom for his whole life."

"He is cute," the first lady says. She brushes my eyebrows. "But I prefer Lord Sneya's other son."

My lips tighten. "You ladies realise I have ears, right?"

They stand back, blinking at me. "But you are no longer with him, are you?"

"So, he's free real estate."

My mouth fills with saliva. "His name's Ruben." I can't think of anything else to say.

Edward awaits outside the room when I step out. He's dressed in a deep emerald green suit, with a grin pasted on his face. He slicked his white hair back off his forehead.

"You look radiant," he says. "Always wearing your signature red dress."

"May as well stick to the story that thrust me into your father's face," I say.

He presses his lips together. "Of course."

We board the gleaming, freshly polished carriage and the horseman directs us through the city, and across the river. As soon as we arrive on the Convex land, a deep rumble permeates the air. Hundreds of Convex gather around the streets, cheering and clapping, chanting my and Edward's names. I have never seen so many of my people so happy and excited. And yet, the cheers and chants turn my blood cold. I cannot pinpoint why. We parade through the city like a herd of bulls being led to a sacrifice.

"You should wave to them," he says.

"What? Why?"

"They'll love it."

A cold sweat breaks on my forehead, and I swallow. But I do as he says, forcing myself to sell my loyalty to him. Screeches and hollers erupt from the crowds as I wave and plaster a big smile on my face.

Flashes of grins, and people shouting my name, and cheering, pummel my senses and I clutch my churning stomach. Why can't I join them in their happiness?

At long last, we circle back and leave the Convex Sector for the Concave Sector. Only the cheers are flat. The claps are too mechanical, penetrating my eardrums and running along my bones. Eyes do not have the same hopeful, joyous gleam. Many clench their jaws in bitterness.