“For war, what else.”
“War against Farin.”
“War against Farin.” Samson closed his eyes, as if savoring the words. “You don’t know what it’s like to finally be able to say that.”
“You promised Elena you would fight for peace first,” Leo said.
“And you and I both know peace will never happen.” Samson’s eyes were hard, and Leo could not help but see himself in that gaze. The unflinching determination, the dogged zeal. But there was something else in Samson’s expression, something he could not decipher.
“I will ask Farin for peace. Follow all the necessary gestures. But in the meantime, my men will slip through the holes in Farin’s defenses. And when Elena realizes Farin never had the patience for peace, we will be ready.” Samson gripped the back of the chair before him. “I will carve through Jantar once she gives me the word.”
And then Leo realized what it was in Samson’s gaze: hatred. Pure and dark, full of thorns.
I have invited an animal into my kingdom, Leo thought. For a moment, he felt the cool touch of doubt. What if he and Elena could not tame this animal?
But then he remembered the bombed port in Rasbakan, the Jantari troops along the southern wall. Animal or not, he needed Samson and his men. He needed a king who could see what his daughter could not.
“I have a lie for you,” Samson said, voice cold and calculated. “You allowed more Sesharian refugees within Ravence, said it was because you cared for us. But you just wanted soldiers, right? Because you know of all people who would burn Farin’s name in the sand, the Sesharians would be the first.”
“Yes, and no,” Leo said softly. “No man should ever live in fear of the zeemir, Samson.”
He stood and walked around the desk. He removed a ring from his finger, a fine green stone with flecks of gold, and handed it to Samson. It was shagun, a present the bride’s father gave to the groom as per tradition.
“I’ve never properly welcomed you into the family,” Leo said.
Samson took the ring and slid it onto his right ring finger, the signet flashing on his left. It fit perfectly.
Samson rubbed the gem for good luck. “Thank you… Father.”
“You’ll need to change your name when Elena makes you her king.”
“What’s wrong with Samson?”
“It’s not Ravani.” Leo looked at his hand, at his own signet ring that displayed his family’s crest. “The people may take some time to get used to a Sesharian king. It’s never been done before. But if you take a Ravani name, they’ll shower you with blessings. You can take one in the Rani fashion. What about Samu?”
“It’s better to be hated for what you are, than to be loved for what you’re not,” Samson said. He gave a grim smile and bowed his head. “Your Majesty.”
He strode out of the room, the flames hissing behind him. Leo shook his head, an uneasy sensation slithering in his stomach.
He’s our animal, he reminded himself.
His holopod beeped. Muftasa appeared before him.
“Starlight is in,” she said. Her face betrayed no emotion. “We have her down in the tunnels. Should I—”
“No,” Leo said. “I will.”
If she was the Prophet, Leo doubted that his men would have the courage to kill her. Their belief would hold them back. He, on the other hand, would not balk.
Yet his throat suddenly tightened.
Something flickered in Muftasa’s eyes, but she nodded. “We’ll be waiting.”
Leo closed the holo. Through the glass ceiling, muted light filtered in, painting the room with grey shadows. It was the charged quiet before a storm. He closed his eyes to relish it. To drink in the calm and bottle it up—for he knew that after today, there would be no peace for him.
The girl was seated on a bench in a concrete room, far below the palace.
The fluorescent lights made her hair shine, as if it captured the stars themselves. She must have heard the door as Leo entered, for she spun around and looked at the two-way glass that separated the two rooms. Leo knew she could not see him, only her reflection. But her eyes bored through him all the same.
