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The musicians were already playing when I entered the ballroom with my ladies. Gone were the days of the girls bickering with one another and flirting with rich, titled nobles. Now, they clung together like a flock of sheep surrounded by wolves.
Sabium lounged on his throne as the court bowed to me. Disgust tightened my throat. He looked in the peak of health, his eyes gleaming, cheeks flushed, as if he enjoyed nothing more than war. The court straightened, watching as I walked to my throne. This ball was about keeping up appearances and making it seem as if this kingdom—and this court—were untouchable.
Patriarch Rothnic Boria stood near the throne. He’d taken his son’s death badly. Sabium had delighted in this, promising him his revenge—if he could use the brilliant mind that had created horseless carriages to create something far more…deadly.
Rothnic had agreed. Several of my spies had attempted to uncover exactly what he was working on, with no luck. The patriarch worked night and day, obsessed with obliterating Madinia.
If he ever got his hands on her, she would die screaming for mercy.
A calculated risk.
I sat, waving away a cup of wine. Sabium continued his conversation. He no longer even attempted to hide most of his plans from me.
I knew what that meant.
The moment he killed my son, he would kill me too. Why would he bother lowering his voice when I wouldn’t be alive to tell anyone his secrets?
My heart pounded until I could hear it in my ears. I knew Sabium. And recently, he’d begun looking at me with the ghost of a smirk on his face, those dead eyes glinting with suppressed amusement. If everything went according to his plan, my life would be over in a matter of weeks, if not days.
“Tell me, Your Majesty, have you managed to find Caddaril the Cleaver?” Rothnic asked.
A muscle twitched in Sabium’s cheek. No one else would have dared ask such a question, but Rothnic knew he was safe. At least for now.
Sabium had allowed his guards to arrest anyone suspected of being “corrupt”. However, many of them used the opportunity to settle old scores. Caddaril’s human son had been burned as a hybrid, and the crime lord had fanned the sparks of fury among the population. That fury had turned into riots, which had taken weeks to suppress. I’d hoped for even more unrest, but the residents of this city had grown fearful as Sabium’s guards slaughtered those creating the most mayhem.
Sabium had invited the Cleaver for dinner. Caddaril had gone underground instead. Now, Sabium looked weak. But more importantly, the Cleaver wanted revenge.
“Not yet.” Sabium kept his voice neutral and stretched out his legs. “However, it is only a matter of time. He will fall in line.”
No, he wouldn’t. Sabium had killed his only son. Once again, he was demonstrating that he had no idea how people reacted to such loss.
I allowed myself to fantasize about Caddaril taking Sabium by surprise one day. Driving a sword into the king’s gut when he least expected it. Sabium was too well guarded––and warded––for that, of course, but the thought was as comforting as a hot fire on a frigid day.
A messenger approached Sabium’s throne, bowing deeply. Sabium flicked his fingers, took the message, and scanned it.
Shock darted over his face, followed immediately by unmistakable triumph.
My mouth went dry, my stomach churning uneasily. Anything that Sabium looked that joyful about…
“I have something I need to attend to,” he said. He wasn’t speaking to me. No, he nodded at Rothnic, who bowed his head, his eyes glittering with curiosity.
Sabium got to his feet, ignoring the court as they bowed. He stalked from the room, and I swept my gaze over the courtiers. None of my spies was here. But I knew where one of them would be.
If I left now, so soon after Sabium, it would be noted. And I couldn’t afford any hint of suspicion. So I waited, pasting a placid, bored expression on my face. I even allowed Rothnic to lead me onto the dance floor, my skin prickling in distaste the entire time.
“You seem distracted, Your Majesty.”
“We’re at war, Patriarch Boria. All of us are distracted.”
“Hmm.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” I said when the dance ended. “You know how these things drain me.”
“Of course.” His gaze met mine, and my pulse quickened. Rothnic had always been dangerous, but his son’s death had unleashed something else in him. Something that wanted blood. He smiled and released me. “Goodnight, Your Majesty.”
I scanned the room for my ladies. They were allowed to stay as long as they liked at these things, but all of them fell into formation, following me out the door as if I would protect them.
