You make me crazy enough to trample the world.
This is what Eren had meant—he never intended to go through with Zeke's euthanasia plan. The Rumbling would squander everything beyond Paradis to a flattened crust of earth. Civilizations would collapse to rubble and broken bodies, flattened in canyon-sized footprints.
All because of her.
Karma couldn't stop her hands from trembling as Floch heaved open the wrought iron doors that reminded her of the ones at the bottom of the stairway. She stepped over the marble threshold into her new cellar.
The Opal Fortress had been built on the outskirts of a farming community during a period of heightened excitement for localized government. But when a massive Titan attack painted the rolling countryside ruby red, the fortress and farmland were abandoned.
At least, this was the narrative Floch delivered, but Karma was wary of anything he told her. He had the type of tongue that could slip through lies like silk.
"But the Scouts wiped out all the Titans. Seems like a waste that no one's reclaimed this fortress—it's basically a castle," Karma said as their footsteps echoed across polished floors. There was no furniture or decor in the cathedral-ceiling entryway, so Floch's chuckle bounced around her in the empty space.
"No one wants to live in a graveyard. And the Titan attack came right after The Opal Fortress was completed, so people think it's cursed," he said.
"Do you think it's cursed?"
"Not sure. I've only been here once—to clean and prep the place for the Queen's arrival. Nothing out-of-the-ordinary so far. But it takes a lot more than ghosts and curses to spook me." He side-eyed her as their heels clicked along a white corridor. "You look shaken up. You scared or something?"
Karma had been clenching her fists, but it didn't hide the trembling. She watched her dirtied shoes contrast the white tiles. "No, it's not the castle. It's The Rumbling. Eren's going to destroy the world and it's all my fault." Her throat tightened, making the last words break into croaks.
"You should be honored, my Queen."
"Well I'm not, okay? I feel like screaming. I should've listened to Captain Levi and never gone to Eren's cell. I'm on the wrong side."
"Don't talk like that. Eren won't be pleased."
"Can it, Floch. I'm allowed to have a crisis." She squeezed the tears from her eyes that weren't quite big enough to roll out on their own. "When is Eren coming? I need to talk to him. If he's doing this for me, then I'm the only one who can reason with him."
"I already told you, he'll come when it suits him. But what's there to reason? He's delivering our freedom. The Rumbling is the only way. It's not like the rest of the world is even worth saving. You've seen how they treat us—stranding us on an island to fend for ourselves all the while turning our own kind into monsters and sending them to destroy us. As long as they exist, we'll never be free. You're on the right side, Karma."
They reached a set of large double doors. Floch pushed them to either side.
"This is where you'll be staying. You have a private bathroom and drawing room and balcony. We'll have all of your meals delivered, so there's no reason to leave your quarters. Per Eren's request, it'll remain locked."
"Right." Karma scanned the elegant suite. Wispy white curtains waterfalled from tall bright windows. A huge bed drowned in frilly pillows. Marble flooring glistened, cushioned with luxurious rugs beneath a sitting area and writing desk.
She stepped deeper into her sparkling cage, brushing her fingers along the golden frame of a thickly textured oil painting. There were even fresh flowers perfuming the air beside a pearl-studded accent chair.
It was more luxury and space than she'd ever had to herself. But she felt suffocated. She couldn't be locked in here—she would go mad.
Without thinking, she struck her hand between the closing doors. Luckily, Floch stopped them before her fingers were smashed.
"Something wrong?" he said.
"It's just—" Her eyes flitted from door to door. She closed them and took a deliberate breath. "I'm fine," she said to herself. She met Floch's confused look. "Will you get to see Eren?"
"He and I will rendezvous regularly for reports and instructions, so yes."
"Could I come with you to see him?"
Floch must be under strict orders because it was clear he was biting back annoyance. "No. Until The Rumbling is complete, you are not to leave without Eren's permission." Karma knew her watering eyes looked pitiful because Floch's tone softened. "Look, there will always be someone on the other side of this door. You won't be alone, alright?"
Her hand fell back to her side and she gave a dejected nod. She watched the last sliver of space between the doors disappear. Then a heavy bolt slid into place and she was locked inside.
Days passed.
Karma had not exhausted her amenities. There were plenty of books to keep her mind occupied and paints and canvases to busy her hands. But being shoved in a drawer sucked all the enjoyment out of such activities.
Instead, she found herself slouched in the pearl-studded chair, eyes unfocused on the brown-ringed flowers in the crystal vase. Even dying, the arrangement retained its beauty. Blush roses. Myrtle leaves. Sunset carnations. And the drooping heads of lily of the valley speckled throughout.
She remembered chubby, small fingers reaching for the white bells that peeked through the neighbor's fence. Her mother had snatched her by the wrist and scolded her because lily of the valley was poisonous.
Poison. Was that her only escape?
Once Eren found Zeke, The Rumbling couldn't be stopped. His motives stretched beyond the dream of a peaceful future with Karma. He was seeking vengeance and finality. Even if he were here, sitting on the white loveseat in front of her, it would be impossible to reason with him.
Besides, he would just tear down her walls and convince her to take his side. Just a finger or a touch of his lips and she too would want to watch the world be trampled.
Karma crumbled the dried edges of a rose petal and straightened a stem of myrtle leaves, jingling the poisonous bells.
Her imprisonment had started long before Floch slid that lock into place. It even started before she relinquished her body to Eren and forwent her duty to the Scouts—she became his prisoner the moment she got too close. The moment she broke her promise to Levi.
Would her sentence really end once The Rumbling was over? Its sole purpose was to grant freedom, so if Eren wouldn't free her now, who's to say he ever would?
Karma dropped her hand back into her lap. She eyed the wispy curtains that led to the balcony. Maybe poison wasn't her only option—she could jump over the ledge and run away. But that would only free her from this physical confinement. Eren would hunt her down forever.
What if she broke his heart? She could tell him that Levi really did kiss her, and she kissed him back. If he no longer loved her, he'd have to set her free. Or would he lock her up for spite? Or even kill her? He'd proved himself capable of much worse, after all.
Dammit. Freedom was as impossible as stopping The Rumbling. As long as Eren was alive, she and the world would be forced to bend to his will.
Karma's eye landed on the lily of the valley again. "No…" Her stomach splashed to the floor. There was a way to stop The Rumbling and regain her freedom.
She had to kill Eren.
"You're still in bed?"
Floch was in the doorway with a tray of sandwiches and tea. The afternoon sun spilled into the room, illuminating the white floors.
"Yeah," Karma said, picking at the frills of a pillow. "I don't really feel like getting up."
"Something wrong?" Floch laid the lunch tray on her nightstand. Karma just shrugged, preoccupied with running her fingers through the strings of yarn. "I'm under orders to keep you happy. Tell me what's wrong."
Karma slammed the pillow into her lap and looked at Floch. "Fine. I just…miss Eren is all. It feels like it's been forever. I know he isn't coming here anytime soon, so there's nothing you can do. Just tell him I love him the next time you see him, alright?"
"Why don't you write him a letter and tell him yourself. I could pass it on when I meet him tonight."
"That's alright. I know he's busy. I don't want to burden him with a grocery list of my feelings."
"He wouldn't mind."
Bingo.
Floch rifled around the writing desk. Pens rattled and drawers opened and closed. He presented her with a pencil and a sheet of paper on top of a hardcover book.
"Let me know if you need more paper. I'll wait until you're done." Floch settled on the loveseat and pretended to not watch her.
Karma stared at the white sheet, tapping the eraser against her thigh. She could hear her heart bang against her ear drums. Was she really capable of luring Eren to his death? And even if the letter worked, how would she pull off the murder?
Poison his tea with lily of the valley? Too unpredictable—he might reject the tea, insist she try a sip, not ingest enough.
Push him over the balcony? Too risky—she might not have the strength, he might survive the fall, she might go down with him.
The more she stared at the paper, the more hopeless she felt. She didn't have it in her to kill, let alone kill someone she cared about.
But there were two Erens. There was the Eren she loved, the one who made her sparkle, and then there was Eren she feared, the one who held the world hostage. And though it crumpled her heart into a paper ball, there was no way to kill one and spare the other.
All she could do was pour her heart into this letter and pray it worked. But picturing her captor made the words freeze on the tip of her pencil. She squeezed her eyes shut and pictured the other Eren. Oddly enough, she was still drawing a blank.
But when the image changed to Captain Levi, words flowed like honey.
Love, Your Gem
She added a small heart and folded the note. "I'm finished."
Floch pushed off his knees to stand and took the letter. He tucked it into his coat pocket. "I'll be sure to pass this along. And I promise you'll receive word whenever he decides to come. Anything else you need?"
Karma was about to dismiss him when an idea sparked. It made her stomach churn, but non-disturbing means of murder were hard to come by. And thus far, it was the best idea she had.
"Yes, there is something else." Karma forced her face to stay neutral. "I know it's hard to come by, but I haven't had meat in ages."
"Meat?" Floch knit his brows. "That's all? Of course we can get you meat. I can snag some from HQ during recruiting. There'll be a feast ready for you by tonight."
"Really?"
"Yeah, piece of cake."
"Steak, actually. Medium-rare."
"If it pleases the Queen." Floch bowed his head. The lock clicked into place.
Karma turned to the sandwiches he'd left behind. She plucked a piece of crust but dropped it back on the plate—her appetite had long since gone.
And it wasn't back by dinnertime either.
"The feast is ready for you, my Queen. May I escort you to the dining hall?"
Karma was surprised to see a new face at the door. It was a girl with green eyes and a long brown ponytail.
"Where's Floch?" Karma said, peeking around the girl's slim figure as if he might be hiding in her shadow.
"Eren requested him earlier than expected, but he'll be back by morning. Don't worry, he didn't forget your letter."
"Good," Karma said. "I'm ready then."
She followed the swaying brown ponytail down the empty white halls. The fortress was illuminated in candlelight now, which made their passage ominous. It felt like the shadows they passed were trailing a breath behind Karma's back. Her legs tingled with the strange impulse to run, but she kept her fists clenched and reminded herself it was just Floch's nonsense about "curses" getting to her.
"Here we are."
The girl swung open the door to a spacious room that greeted them with a waft of savory garlic and herbs. The dining hall was plain except for a long table enclosed by a dozen velvet thrones.
The girl pulled out Karma's designated seat and scooted her toward the table. Karma draped a napkin on her lap and looked at the surrounding seats. Is this why Eren requested Floch early, so he could surprise her at dinner? The possibility of seeing Eren at the feast mixed a gurgling froth of hope and dread in her belly.
To her relief and chagrin, it was as if they were hosting a party of ghosts.
"No one else is joining?" Karma said.
"No. Just the Queen."
"Oh. Alright."
"Will you be needing anything else?"
Karma scanned the platters of chicken wings, greasy turkey legs, and bacon wrapped sausages. On a golden plate that matched her water chalice was a hunk of medium rare steak. To her right was a folded napkin that pillowed a silver fork and a jagged steak knife. Her heart thumped in her ribcage.
"No, thank you," Karma said, picking up the utensils with trembling fingers. "I have everything I need."