“You jeopardize our rule,” Samson said. “How can Elena and I begin to rebuild the kingdom if you leave us nothing but ash?”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure your Jantari king can lend you some metal.” Leo waved his hand. “If the Prophet rises, there will be no kingdom for any of us to rule.”
“You don’t know that,” Samson said.
“Oh, but I do. There will be no mercy under the rule of this Prophet, just like there was no mercy under the Sixth. He and his Phoenix will lay waste to Ravence, and they will not stop there. Jantar, Cyleon, Nbru, the islands, they’ll all fall.”
Leo touched the back of Samson’s hand. “This is the small price we must pay to avoid war. A few misdeeds for a greater future.” He looked into the younger man’s eyes. “So you will search your men with my Spear, and you will report to me if you want this kingdom.”
Samson dropped his arm, the towel clenched in his hand.
Leo returned to his desk once Arish guided Samson out. A cloud passed overhead, and sunlight seeped out of the room.
Leo touched the necklace underneath his clothes, the jade bird above his chest. Aahnah’s bird.
The day she had jumped into the Eternal Fire, she had told him something odd, something that came to him now as the heavens opened and rain drummed against the skylights.
“I think the desert forgets easily,” she had said as she donned her ceremonial robes for the Ashanta ceremony.
“Forgets what?” he had asked, but she hadn’t answered.
He had only meant to protect her. The day of his coronation, the Eternal Fire had demanded a sacrifice, but he, selfish and young, had refused. He could not imagine a life without Aahnah. She knew how to root out his faults and iron them into something stronger, better. When they used to lie together at night, she would trace his eyebrows, smoothing out the tension in his brow.
He closed his eyes and imagined her face. Drew it line by line, as if he could conjure her before him. The perfect arch of her brows. The deep brown eyes. The birthmark hidden behind her ear, at the edge of her skull. He rubbed his thumb against her necklace. What was it that she would always say to him?
The dead and the living are full of fear.
Oh, he was afraid. Afraid of what would happen should he fail: the intense fury of the Prophet and the Eternal Fire, the rupture of his kingdom, the death of his daughter. He could feel his fears eating the edges of his mind, racing toward him.
Seek forgiveness.
That’s what they all told him—Saayna, Arish, Majnu—but they did not know the cost of forgiveness. Forgiveness required vulnerability, an admission of his faults. It required him to bare his chest to the world and allow others to dig into his flesh.
Leo stared at Elena’s slingsword resting on his desk.
Have you ever considered what I wanted?
An ache gnawed in his chest. Leo turned away, guilt flashing through him.
The rain fell harder, yet as Leo looked up, the sky was afire. A bright, living red ringed with pink—Aahnah’s favorite type of sunset.
A message popped up on the glass panel of his desk just as Arish returned. The Astra wore a pinched expression, but Leo did not question him as he turned to see his Spear in the holo.
“Your Majesty,” Majnu said and then hesitated.
“What is it? Have you found him?” Leo asked, but the look on Majnu’s face made his stomach drop.
“There’s been an attack in the capital. We believe it was an attempt on Elena’s life. We—”
“Is she alive?” he gasped.
“Yes, sir,” Majnu replied.
Leo collapsed into his seat. His heart hammered in his chest.
“Her Highness is already on her way to the palace in a hoverpod,” Majnu continued. “She should arrive in seven minutes. We suspect the Arohassin are behind the attack.”
“Yassen Knight,” Leo said, his voice rising. “Where is he?”
