The conspirators arrived the next day, and I winced when I saw them stalk into the dining room of the house where we were staying. Each of them had the look of hardened criminals about them, and they had the blood of thousands on their hands. I wondered if any children had been among the list of claimants to the throne, but dismissed that thought. It was better to think of the victims as adults. I didn't want images of child-sized coffins in my head.
The head conspirator eyed me up and down. "So you're Anna." He spat on the floor, earning him a censorious glare from Jenny, which he ignored. "Huh. You're a stick of a thing. Not really worth the bother of chasing you from pillar to post. I'd gut you here and now, but I've my orders."
He snapped his fingers, and two of his thugs seized me by the arms and hauled me to my feet. I tried to walk, but they ignored my attempts, and I gave up, letting them drag me out to the black car which waited in the dim grey light. It was already much colder, making me thankful for the car's interior warmth as I was bundled inside. The two goons sat either side of me, but neither made a move to try and restrain me as their leader got in the driver's seat and gunned the engine. Not one of them had a word to say to me, and truth be told, I was already disliking them quite thoroughly. So I had no word to say to them either.
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The drive was punishingly long, made more so by the fact my captors never once stopped for a rest break. By the time we reached Preston, I was desperately hungry and thirsty, and busting for the loo. But since my captors didn't seem to care if I perished right there, I refused to give them the satisfaction of knowing I was in such dire straits.
Once we'd reached a tall, dark house, I was bundled out of the car and marched inside. At least this time I was allowed to walk by my own power, rather than being dragged, but the dark, dim furnishings didn't alleviate my mood one jot, and it was a tortorous walk from the entry hall upstairs to a lavishly appointed bedroom which, blessedly, had a bathroom and toilet attached. I kept my face expressionless, however, as the head conspirator turned to me. "Right," he said. "You stay here at all times. Your meals will get brought up to you, and you can walk up and down the hall for exercise. But you're not to go into any of the other rooms, and you're not to come down the stairs. Do I make myself clear?"
I nodded. "Very clear," I said.
He grunted. "Huh. Got manners, then. Weird. Oh well. More rules. You speak to no one unless spoken to. If you hear anything you think might help you, you pretend you never heard it. I won't have you thinkin' you can put together small details here and there to work out a plan for escape. And just in case you're thinkin' of defyin' me, I'll have someone come up at the end of each day and ask you what you heard. You tell them anything more than 'I don't know, I couldn't recall exactly', and you'll get your arse whooped so hard you won't be able to sit down for a week. Understand me?"
"I understand," I said, taking a deep breath to keep from letting my fear show. If they weren't going to give me anything to use against them, I wasn't going to give them anything to use against me.
The head conspirator nodded. "Right. You seem like a smart girl. Boss might be able to make use outta you. I don't care for royalty one way or another, but boss is dead set against a monarchy." He paused, then frowned, as if suddenly recalling my presence. "What did you just hear, girl?"
"I don't know," I said. "I couldn't recall exactly."
"Huh," the head conspirator said again. "You're smart, girl. Keep on like that, you might get a chance to be free. But we'll see. Just do as you're told, keep your mouth shut, and you won't have it too hard. Break the rules, and you'll see what punishment really is." So saying, he turned and left, his goons trailing in his wake. Once the door was shut behind them, I ran for the toilet, and after a good break, I washed my hands and face, feeling much better. I was still quite hungry and thirsty, but a few moments after I'd emerged from the bathroom, the door was opened and a tray pushed through. I was grateful for the sight, but, remembering my instructions, instead nodded in gratitude to the goon who'd brought my food. I half expected her to snatch the tray back, but she grunted and shut the door, leaving me alone with my first proper meal of the day. Relieved to be spared a first punishment, I set to with a will, and by the time the goon returned to collect the tray, it was all but scraped clean. She eyed me suspiciously, shrugged and took the tray, this time leaving the door open. I knew it was an invitation, but I refrained from walking the hallway. Instead, I counted to twenty, and then cautiously put my head out. The hallway was empty, with closed doors running down its length, and though it was generously lit, I still felt as if I was stepping out into a danger zone as I made my cautious way to the far end.
It turned out to be a fair walk, and by the time I got back to my room, I realised it had taken a bit out of me. But it would be a good way to get some excercise, and when I walked over to the large windows, I was surprised to get a good view of Preston. With the sun starting to set, the street lights were coming on, and for a little while I lost my self in the glittering, fairy like display as the city lit up with the advent of night.
Finally, tired, drained, but with a small amount of hope in my heart, I shut the curtains, turned out the light, and undressed, before climbing into the enormous four-poster bed which could have easily held at least ten people with room to spare. I was still dreadfully upset with my circumstances, but I reasoned that, so long as I had a small modicum of freedom, I'd get by.
But even as I dropped off, I had the horrible feeling my sacrifice was going to prove meaningless. My captors seemed the type to follow through on their threats out of sheer, bloody-minded spite, and, sure enough, I was woken by the sound of a deep, subsonic boom which seemed to rattle me from the inside out. I bolted out of bed and ran to the window, my heart in my mouth. With London 189 miles away, it was hard to make out anything, but I thought I caught a faint line of red glimmering on the horizon, and tears filled my eyes.
"Bastards," I whispered, realising their threat of hidden bombs had been correct. In one fell swoop 8.982 million people had just lost their lives, killed as they went about their business, or murdered in their beds, just as what had happened to the royal family and their long line of successors, leaving me the sole survivor.
And now I was the sole survivor again. London had been my home, and now it was gone, destroyed in an act of bloody-minded spite that seemed to have no real purpose. But devastated though I was at the thought of my friends, coworkers, and family all dying for what seemed no good reason at all, I refused to give in to despair. My captors had clearly wanted me to learn a sharp lesson.
But they were about to get an even sharper lesson of their own. I was uncrowned, but I was still the queen!
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