Chapter LXVIII

Queen Cynthia.

The freaking queen of Sinnoh.

Only a door away.

Nova paced down the castle hall the next morning, back and forth and back and forth, her boots slipping against the tiles. Across from her was the grand, mahogany door – the only thing shielding her away from whatever conversation Riley was having with Queen Cynthia.

He had told her to wait in her own chambers and relax. She had tried that for about a minute, before leaping onto her feet and stalking his shadow to try spying on his meeting with the queen.

Even the thought of sitting down and waiting made her feel nauseous. Everything was slipping out of her grasp, out of her little fingers, as she stood there. Watching, with Darkrai secured in her shadow once again. Waiting.

"What do you think they're talking about?"

"…perhaps the weather…"

"Now is not the time for this."

"…ah,yes, i forgot we must wait until noon before saying something you don't like…"

Nova clicked her tongue, gesturing at the door. "Can you be useful for once?"

"…is my presence alone not of tremendous use? i am hurt…"

"Fine. I'll listen myself."

She moved towards the gold-plated door, pressing her ear against the wood.

"…is this a good idea?..."

"You tell me."

"…why would i answer when i asked the question?..."

"Well—"

She never got to finish. For, in that moment, the door was ripped away from the side of her face, leaving cool air pouring over her flushed skin.

"November, you can come in."

Cynthia's voice. Cynthia's shadow, standing over her, looking down at her with bemusement in her eyes.

"…i told you that it was a bad idea…"

Nova wanted to hiss at the Darkrai that he told her nothing, but she only bit her tongue, nodded curtly and slipped into the room.

Feeling, not for the first time since the queen had come marching in, like there was no ground for her to walk on.

"Hi."

Those were the only words Nova could say as she found a space against the wall to lean on.

Her head seemed flooded with questions. Was she supposed to call the woman across from her Cynthia? Queen Cynthia? Your Majesty? Was she supposed to bow? Was she allowed to take a seat on one of the lush, velvet chairs along the centre?

Riley was silent, on the other end of the room, staring out the window with his fists clenched. Only Cynthia addressed her, clicking the door shut and facing her.

"November."

"I didn't mean to—"

"Eavesdrop?"

Nova winched. "Well, aye, I definitely meant to eavesdrop but… I didn't mean for you to notice."

At that, the queen smiled.

"I know why you like her, Riley," she called over her shoulder. "Do you want me to break the news to her?"

The knight's expression was cloudy. He didn't even turn. "I haven't agreed to anything, Cynthia."

"You will. I know you, Riley."

Nova listened as the queen spoke. There was nothing particularly menacing or threatening to her tone – just the sharpness and amusement of someone who really did know, someone intelligent, someone who could read Riley just like that.

Once again, that pang. That feeling of something sliding out of her fingers. That jealousy.

Cynthia turned to her suddenly, eyes narrowed.

"November, do you care for a stroll?" she asked. "I'd love to talk to you. Alone."

Nova glanced over at Riley, even as she nodded, who hadn't moved.

What had they been speaking about?

What had it done to him?

Nova and Cynthia walked along the edge of the gardens, by the waterfalls. Even with the lacy white streams of water roaring right beside them, there was almost a stillness to it. Nothing stirred in the gardens, no bright and popping colours swayed with the wind. It was just green leaves and white flowers, barely breathing as they walked past them.

"You've been following me," Nova finally said as they stopped by the edge.

Cynthia sat there, her feet dangling over the cliff, the waterfall spraying onto her dark clothes. "Cresselia and I have been fascinated, yes."

"Cresselia?"

"You're special, but not that special. I have one too," Cynthia said. Then, looking down at Nova's dark shadow, she added, "It's been a while, Darkrai."

"…it certainly has…"

"I trust November keeps good company?"

"…she keeps company, that's for sure…"

Nova felt it again, that little twinge. Like there was even more she was being left out of. More she didn't understand, nor would she ever understand.

She sat beside the queen, albeit reluctantly, staring down at the water as it slammed down.

"Was there something you wanted to talk about?" she asked.

The queen didn't even flinch. "Yes. About following you. It started because I thought we may have been sisters."

"What?"

"My parents gave up a baby," Cynthia explained, arching her brow at the pink silk around the gladiator's neck. "And they abandoned it somewhere. I never knew why – I just remember the pink scarf. When I first saw you in Sandgem, Cresselia wouldn't let me leave you alone. Told me you were important to me. I thought it had to be you – maybe my mother had an affair, and your dark hair made it obvious since both my parents had fair hair. So, she abandoned you to hide it."

Nova shook her head. "The scarf isn't mine, it's—"

"I know. Barry. I was wrong – you and I are not related at all. My guess is they abandoned him once they knew he was blind. I was hoping I would get the chance to tell him he was my brother just before he challenged me to a spar, but…"

He died.

It was the first time Nova had seem any sort of vulnerability in Cynthia's gaze – a small pause and quiet sorrow.

Even the queen, it seemed, had forgotten that Barry was not invincible. That he could die before that final spar. That he would.

"I'm sorry for that," Cynthia said softly.

Nova felt everything inside her tense. Stared hard at her boots. "Sorry doesn't change anything."

"I disagree."

"Well—"

"Words can change everything," Cynthia cut in. "One small word can change everything. What if Lucian or Flint had said sorry to you instead? What happens yesterday, in Hearthome?"

Nova said nothing. She just remembered the ballroom – Tric's suffocating face, the cold ice in Lucian's eyes, the agony in her veins.

"Each word," Cynthia continued. "People could say I left the castle. Make it sound like I went on a little walk for a while. Others could say I disappeared. Make it sound like I was kidnapped. Dead. Ran away. Escaped. Makes people excited – makes people think they can stroll right in and take my crown. Or, better yet, my future husband."

Nova felt those last words like a slap to her face.

Oh, this bitch—

"The engagement has not been called off," Cynthia then added.

Nova reeled back. "What? I thought Riley—"

"I know exactly what Riley wants. And while I do think he is an excellent man, I can't give him everything he wants without thinking about what I want, November."

"He doesn't love you."

"Nor do I love him."

"Then why—"

Cynthia raised a hand calmly. "Because that's what a ruler does. They put aside their happiness for their kingdom, no?"

"I don't know!" Nova snapped. "Do I look like a fucking ruler to you?"

The queen sat back, grinning smugly. The gladiator saw nothing of that – her face was too hot, her hands flailing, her pride cut.

"What I do know?" Nova rambled on, "I know that you haven't given a fuck about your kingdom! You left it for months to do whatever the hell you felt like doing. If you cared for your kingdom, they would have said you left, not disappeared. Because they would have known you would never leave. Barry wouldn't be dead, because you would have stopped your fucking loons in the castle from being filthy pieces of absolute shit. When the three Pokémon – Mespirit, Azelf and Uxie – had first been taken by Cyrus, you would have been there, stopping him."

Silence answered her. For the better too – it gave her time to let the cold of the water reach to her, cooling away some of that hissing rage.

"What are you thinking?" Cynthia asked, ever so softly.

"Fuck Queen Cynthia," Nova answered honestly. "That's all I can hear in my head."

The queen shook her head, sorting. "Fuck Queen Cynthia. And yet, you know so little about me."

"Because you won't tell me."

It was a challenge she wasn't expecting Cynthia to take. And yet, the queen sighed, leaning back on her hands.

"I didn't want to be a queen," Cynthia said. "I didn't want to be a gladiator. Fighting bores me. I wanted to travel – but no one wanted to see a woman travel without purpose. So I had to claim to be a warrior. A fighter. A gladiator."

Nova blinked slowly.

She hadn't expected it to begin like that.

"Travel Sinnoh, and then the world," Cynthia recounted, wistfully. Sighing almost dreamily. "That was the plan. But your grandfather, Rowan, was old, a very easy target for so many gladiators. And, by the end, there were two options: become queen, or let Volkner or some of the other best gladiators at the time – Flint, Lucian, Aaron – become kings. What do you think about that?"

Nova blanched at the thought of someone like Lucian ruling over Sinnoh.

It would have been absolute hell.

"So I took the throne," Cynthia said. "And used the Gladiator Games to look for my little brother or sister."

"Alright."

"I kept an eye on Sinnoh. I was even at Coronet." Cynthia made a small snicker. "I thought I was being such a good leader. Protecting Sinnoh."

"I suppose that's fair."

Cynthia shook her head. "But that's not what a great ruler does, November. It's one thing to protect Sinnoh. It's another thing to grow Sinnoh. To not just look after it, but to raise it into something more."

Nova said nothing. She just listened as Cynthia pressed into certain words, drawing them out like they were supposed to mean something.

"I love Sinnoh enough to protect it," she continued. "But not enough to raise it. So I told Riley that he would stay engaged to me, because he is someone who would make a fine king, and could raise Sinnoh."

"Why not give him the throne?" Nova retorted. "Why force him to marry you?"

"Because then he immediately marries you. A wench from Twinleaf."

That one stung. A stab, right to her heart.

Nova glowered.

"Who the fuck do you think you—"

Cynthia grabbed Nova's hand before it came swinging at her. Twisted it back, so hard that Nova winced.

"If I give you the throne," Cynthia murmured, "Riley weds you, and everything you've worked for – all these months of gladiator battles? Of losing and killing people? Gone."

"That's none of your—"

"Words, November. You have the crown. You earn the crown. They're different. What do you want your story to be?"

"It's my story, not—"

Cynthia squeezed her hands. "And what story do I want to leave behind, when I catch a ship and leave Sinnoh to explore some new land? I gave my crown to someone who would make a good leader? Or, after a bloody battle, I lost the crown to someone who would make a great leader?"

It took a whole minute for November to realise that the queen had complimented her.

Great leader.

"I know you love Sinnoh," Cynthia said, releasing Nova's hands. "I know you want to change this kingdom."

For Twinleaf. For Bebe. For Barry.

"I know you are not just some wench from Twinleaf. But no one else does."

"Aye, but—"

"Spar me," Cynthia cut in. "In front of Sinnoh. Prove to them, November, that you will raise Sinnoh. If you win, you take the throne and Riley."

"I don't even want to be queen—"

Even as she said it, Nova knew the words felt half-hearted. Barely there. Cynthia smiled.

"No," the queen said. "Because a good ruler is someone who puts aside their happiness for their kingdom. And you don't want to do that, aye?"

"Aye?"

"So ask yourself this: what does a great ruler do that is different from a good ruler?"

With that, Cynthia stood. She looked down at the wench from Twinleaf, dusting her hands.

"You have one hour to tell me what you want to do. I'll be waiting right here."

November didn't have time.

She had people to see.

The first stop had been Riley's room, but she had paused as she found Volker in the throne room. He was still, staring at that chair, bare and perfect. Nova slowed by his side.

When he faced her, his blue eyes so blunt to what they had been, Nova's mouth just opened.

"He was your brother."

Volkner looked down at the scarf. "Cynthia told me."

Then, he was staring back at the throne. His hands shaking.

Was he mourning? Was this how rich people mourned? Nova considered backing away, already taking a step behind her, when Volkner spoke again.

"I'm sorry, November."

Her voice nearly shot up before she could think. Nearly told him that it didn't change anything.

But it did.

"If you want," she said feebly, "I can tell you about him."

"That would be nice."

She hesitated.

One hour. Cynthia had given her one hour to make a decision. She would have to find Volkner later and—

Nova sighed.

"When we grew up, he hated me helping him all the time," she said. "So I would leave twigs in the sand so he could have a trail home. Once, the twigs got blown away by a storm, but he didn't want to wake me to go out. So, he made his own trail, and when I went out to see, I saw him going around and around in circles because he just kept making a bigger circle each time. He didn't realise he wasn't going anywhere. I watched him for hours."

Volkner's brows shot up. "You didn't stop him?"

"Nah, it was better to see the look on his face when his mother called his name and he realised he hadn't even travelled a few steps from his own home."

She didn't know what to tell him next. She didn't even know if he wanted to hear anything more. Still, she opened her mouth, her eyes burning as she just looked at the plush ret cushions. The jewelled arm rests. The long, soft rug that led to the throne.

"Another time, he tried to sleep with a married woman, and got beaten to a pulp when the husband saw him—"

"What?" Volkner interrupted. "I don't want to hear those sorts of stories!"

She grinned at him. "It's the story he would tell if he was here."

"Really?"

"Aye. He had no shame telling people he lasted a good eight seconds—"

"November!"

They both laughed then, their voices ringing around the chambers.

Soft. Easy. Haunting.

This time, when she started moving to Riley's chambers, she didn't stop. She just threw open the doors, found him with his head buried in his hands on the corner of his bed.

"Volkner wants to bury Barry's body in Sunnyshore," was the first thing she told him when he looked up at her. "Make a pillar of light over his body to guide ships to safety."

Riley tilted his head to the side. "That sounds like a November idea, not a Volkner idea."

"Aye, alright, it was my idea, but he said aye!"

"I thought so."

Even with the smile on his face, he looked miserable. His face sullen, his eyes swollen, bright blue staring wearily.

"I got Clefable back," he finally said.

"Aaron, Flint, and Lucian have been whipped into submission, aye?"

Riley gave her a funny look. "Whipped—that's a strong word."

There it was again.

Words.

Words, words, words.

He was looking down at his hands, but Nova didn't move her gaze from the boy. Remembered the way he had stared out the window, earlier that morning.

There was so much outside there. To change. To raise.

She had nothing left to lose, it was true. No one relied on her anymore. Barry was gone, and not even her mother, who had done just fine these past few months.

And the idea of change… of things that could have been but never would be if she walked out of the castle…

Prove to everyone.

She looked over at the clock on the wall. Flinched.

Turns out, she had spent longer than she had thought with Volkner. There were only ten minutes left to make a choice.

"I love you."

She said it so abruptly, so casually, she shocked herself. Riley gave her a curious look. "Nova?"

"Do you love me?"

"Of course I love you. What kind of question is that?"

"An important one, you dong. Otherwise, I wouldn't ask."

Then, without another word, she left the room.

Next came her own chambers.

Her Pokémon were there, seated in an odd little circle.

"What the hell is this?"

Turns out, they were playing a game.

Highlight. Hardship. Hero.

Nova watched as Tric started. His highlight was, of course, punching the Onix in Oreburgh – sending it hurling into the wall as he evolved. The gladiator didn't even need to understand his muffled sounds – just his demonstration of it, slamming his fist gently into a scowling Rhys, was enough to make her remember.

Rhys had bared his fangs when it was his turn, growling about that time in Pastoria, when he had nearly ripped a man to shreds. Owl sang a little tune about her favourite moment – one that surprised Nova, recalling how she had felt brave enough to slither across the marbles in Mount Coronet and take the blue beam Dialga had fired at November.

Tatiana smugly re-enacted how she had been the only one to sniff out the poison, and shoved it away before Nova could eat it back in Canalave. Fleetfoot cawed about getting drunk with Nova, using that as an excuse to help him fix his aim. And Leila, bless the Roserade, reached her vines around them all and said this moment – this moment, where they sat in a circle, all hardened and strong but brimming with tales and adventures – was her highlight.

And though Nova knew there was only three minutes left before she had to talk to Cynthia, she broke into a laugh.

Fuck Queen Cynthia, aye?

And she sat with them.

The hardships section was almost too much for her. Tric recalled Barry – the way he had flown out of the carriage, the crack of his bones as he landed. Leila mentioned Bebe, the way they had found the poisoned girl just as she was taking pained breaths that would sweep her away. Owl and Tatiana's were similar – Owl's was watching the whip roar through Nova's back in Turnback Cave, while Tatiana's had been watching Byron fall back inside Giratina's clutches. Fleetfoot cawed sadly about thinking Owl had been lost, only for the Gastrodon to reach out and press her head gently against his feathers.

It was Rhys that surprised them all. When he said his hardship was running with Vernia and Nova on his back, in Twinleaf, when a flood loomed behind him.

Not because it was hard. Not because it hurt.

But because of the fear.

When it came to the last section, none of them took turns. They all exchanged a look. Then, slowly, their eyes shifted to Nova.

Hero.

Nova knew she was crying, but didn't bother wiping the tears with her knuckles.

There had been so many highlights and hardships and heroes. She could hardly narrow it down.

Still, she forced her trembling voice to speak.

"My turn, I guess," she said weakly. "My highlight was… walking into this castle, knowing that if I turned around, you all were there. Ready to kill a bitch for me."

They weren't smiling, even as she tried to laugh. They were crying with her.

"My hardship was…" Losing Barry? Thinking she had lost Owl or Tric? Watching her own father be trapped in the distortion world?

All of them. And yet, none of them.

"My hardship was when I was a wee lass, when a few men tried to have their way with me. I don't think I ever told any of you properly about it. I know it sounds small but…"

It was the start. It was where she first saw herself as a wench. When, all along, all the bloody time—

She told them about it. The exact moment it happened. Ripping at the old wounds mercilessly, letting them inch closer, showing them the parts of her skin that still were a little scarred.

No shame.

Not anymore.

Crying freely. Even Rhys had tears in his eyes – a glimmer of pride there, too.

"And my hero…"

Barry. For teaching her about hope.

Bebe. For teaching her about laughter.

Riley. For teaching her about love.

Cynthia. For teaching her about herself.

Vernia. Byron. Duke Rowan.

Her Pokémon.

But there was name that was sharper than the others.

"My hero is Joy," she finally said. "Because she is…"

Strong? Brave? Kind?

"Resilient."

It had been almost an hour past the time she was supposed to meet Cynthia. But she didn't care.

There was one last thing to do. Cynthia could wait.

The last person she had to see was the most important.

A maid.

Nova practically grabbed some poor, random lass by the shoulders. "I need you to write me a latter."

"Miss—"

"I can't write. You need to write for me. My Staraptor will deliver it."

The maid looked at the hysterical eyes of the gladiator. The Staraptor that was too big, and yet, somehow balancing its talons on her head.

"Oh, alright."

November was hours late, but Cynthia was still there, by the waterfalls, the moonlight pouring onto her face.

"You took three hours."

Nova shrugged. "Well, yeah, go yell at Dialga's arse for that. I don't control time."

It brought a picture to her head – of when she first met Cynthia, by Dialga's statue in Eterna, the blood she had drawn with a sword to seek the time legend's blessing. The thought alone made her smile.

"I accept, by the way," Nova said.

"You're two hours late."

"So?"

Cynthia shrugged. "I already sent the invitations across Sinnoh."

Nova stared, wide eyed.

"Wedding invites?"

"Of course not," Cynthia snickered. "Invites to our spar."

"You said I was two hours late."

"Aye, so instead of saying, November has challenged Cynthia to a battle at the eve of the next month, the invitation now says, November is taking her sweet arse time, but she will be challenging Cynthia to a battle that will take place on the eve of the next month."

Cynthia gave her a crooked grin. And November couldn't help it.

She threw her head back and laughed.

On the other side of Sinnoh, a woman was reading a letter.

Dear Mother,

I know you warned me about men. I know you warned me about rich people. And I know it looks like I am doing this for the two very things you had told me to be careful of.

But there is more.

Her hands were trembling as she unfolded it further.

I am fighting for our throne. Because that throne is ours. My grandfather sat on that. My father should have sat on that. And you would have been there. Then me. And we would have danced. And we will dance. Because it's not too late.

Tears in her eyes. Her heart hammering.

I am fighting for Father. To show him that I do care.

I am fighting for Twinleaf. To show them all that they can do it, too. That anyone in Sinnoh – no matter who they are, where they are from, and how they grew up – can do anything. All they need is a will of steel. Which, well, is harder to get than I suppose people think – I think the next one is born after I die, but that's besides the point. If a girl from Twinleaf can stomp her way into the castle, anyone can.

Pushing back her dark hair. Reading each word slowly.

But I don't think you care about that. You don't care about Twinleaf or our blood heritage. I know you, Mother. You care about me.

And I promise you – this isn't for Father or Duke Rowan or Riley. This isn't even for Barry or my Pokémon.

The Staraptor by the window staring eagerly at her. A paper and ink already by her table, waiting her response.

This is for me. This is for what makes me happy. For what makes me feel hope.

This is for change.

I love you, forever and always,

And, to her absolute shock, the final word at the bottom was written in a different handwriting. An awful one – shaky, rough, with some letters facing the wrong way. But still, she recognised the word anywhere. Knew exactly why the writing was appalling.

November

I'M SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG LIKE. THIS CHAPTER WASN'T EVEN THAT HARD. I JUST DON'T WANT TIK TO END SO I THINK I'M UNCONSCIOUSLY DRAGGING IT OUT BY KEEPING MYSELF BUSY- DID I SAY THAT ALOUD?

Next chapter is half done! So it should be out in the next week or so, fingers crossed!