Chapter 17

                                    

                                          
            
                          
     True to her word, Juliet was dressed completely in black the next morning at breakfast. Taryd and Valin laughed heartily at her outfit before telling Ryder that the palace dress code should be black because the queen looked so good in it. Juliet and Ryder both blushed.
                          
     They didn't eat as long as they had the night before, since Valin and Taryd had to leave early if they wanted to be home before dark, and Ryder and Juliet had to start back to Amidia as soon as possible. The four of them met at the end of the drive after packing and saddling their horses.
                          
     Valin bowed low and kissed Juliet's hand again, and told her that she was welcome in Talimia any time she wished. Taryd pulled her into a bear hug, enveloping her in his arms before pulling back and reminding her to come to the wedding. Both of them clapped Ryder on the shoulder, suddenly serious, and told him to be cautious in the capital and to watch out for the rebel movement.
                          
     They rode in the opposite direction of Ryder and Juliet, who were quiet as they started their journey back to Amidia. She hadn't said anything, but Ryder knew Juliet didn't want to go back to the glass palace. She'd had her first taste of freedom in years in Cremea, and he didn't blame her for wanting to stay.  
                          
     Both of them were quiet the entire journey back. It was different than when they'd come to Cremea—on the way there, Juliet had opened up, like she was waking up. Now, on their way back, she seemed to draw into herself, close up. Ryder hated it. Every day, he wanted to yank the reins of her horse and turn them both around, make a mad dash back for the manor where she'd been so at peace.
                          
     But he knew—he just knew, deep in his heart, that it wouldn't help her completely. A part of her wanted to be free, but another part of her knew that she was the queen, and running away would just make it worse.
                          
     So he didn't turn them both around, even though it killed him to see her shoulders slump as they passed through the gates of Amidia on their fifth day of travel. He remembered how she had glowed when she turned around and smiled at him—that part of her seemed very distant now.
                          
     There was no welcoming party when they arrived at the palace. Nothing but a few guards nodding at the pair of them when they dismounted their horses, shouldered their bags, and began the walk to Juliet's room.
                          
     He dropped his bags on his bed and then turned to look at Juliet, who was standing in the center of her room, staring emptily around.
                          
     He hated it. He wanted to take her shoulders and shake her, remind her that she was still the queen and life could be worth it.  
                          
     But he didn't. He simply cleared his throat and shifted his weight slightly. "Do you...do you want to go to the library?"
                          
     She shook her head. "The servant is coming with my meds soon," She said quietly. "We'd better stay."
                          
     Ryder could feel his heart thumping as he stared at her and recalled the past weeks. She hadn't had a single nightmare, had been lucid the entire time.  
                          
     "Jett," He said, taking a step towards her as he decided something. "The medicine doesn't help."
                          
     She finally looked at him, the weariness and defeat so apparent in her eyes he wanted to grab her hand and yank her out of the palace. "I have noticed that, Ryder, but every time I bring it up I get shot down."
                          
     "So don't bring it up." He stepped closer so he was right in front of her and gripped her hands in his. "In Talimia, we're very close to the border, and the rebels use poisons quite often to sabotage their enemies. As a result, we're taught how not to swallow them, how to trick our enemies into thinking we have." Her eyes were wide—she'd caught on to what he was getting at. "If you want, I can teach you how to do that—he'll think you're swallowing it, but after he leaves you can just spit it out." He squeezed her hands. "Do you want to learn?"