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“I’m well aware of what you were doing and with whom.” Magnar leans forward. He pulls the folded swords, unresponsive to his touch and the revolver with the ivory grip, and lines them carefully on the low table. “But that’s my fault.”
I grip the stem of the glass to hide the tremble in my hands. “So, what then? I remember the show you made of the rebel on the day of my betrothal. All who disobey will suffer your wrath.”
“They will, but not you.”
“How do I get to be the exception?”
“Because you are not a rebel,” my father says with the force of a sandstorm. “I might have pushed you onto their path through an ambitious arrangement with erroneous execution and disastrous results— “
“So, you planned for me to get shot?”
Magnar brings the full force of his glare on me. He’s not a man used to being interrupted. Even less by what he must think to be a petulant princess.
“I can’t say I’ll mourn Ajaia’s demise from the pinnacle of power, but any harm you have suffered is…regrettable.”
I burst into a fit of uncontrolled laughter and close my eyes, shutting away tears brewing so close to the surface. My father wanted for me to die on that train so he could remove Ajaia from power. I was just a pawn in yet another of his games.
“Happy coincidence the rebels attacked the train then,” I mumble.
“There are no such things as coincidences,” my father answers in that flat voice. My eyes fly open, but he continues, “Do you really think I would let the rebels run rampant through the desert without any control of their actions?”
“Who?” Who betrayed us? “Who talked?”
My father smiles. “There were three of you coming for your little game of capture and retreat, weren’t there?”
My blood chills in my veins. The slow thump of my heart marks each passing second.
No.
No, no, no.
Magnar is lying. He must be.
Yet the truth is so obvious it hits me harder than a stone wall.
Things I never questioned, things I decided to forget. It all resurfaces now.
Numair used my name back on the train, saying he had been searching for me. Rev knew someone in The Broken Sands. The guards let Numair slip away from the research laboratory when they’d caught Inara. Even Togar seemed to have some kind of understanding with him. Enough to let Valdus off the hook when Numair came for him.
Numair has betrayed the rebellion.
A brother not by blood, but I saw him as one.
“The King of Rebels,” my father says with amusement crinkling his voice. “Such a ludicrous title for such a foolish man. He couldn’t even see a traitor in the midst of men he calls family.”
“So, you ordered Numair to kill me?”
“I needed a reason to remove Ajaia.” My father pauses with a soft smile as if we were discussing the weather and not his attempt on my life. “Your demise under his protection would have been an excellent excuse.”
“Means to an end.”
Magnar nods.
“He didn’t kill me, though.”
“Numair decided to grow a spine. The fact he regretted immediately.”
“You killed his father only because he kept me alive.” I close my eyes, leaning back in the armchair, grappling for any lucid thought.
