***
Sita stepped through the curtain, still reeling. In the corridor, the crowd had grown. The viziers had arrived, as well as palace officials and a few of the lesser wives. When she appeared, they all stopped talking and turned toward her.
Sita wished with all her heart that the duty would have fallen to someone else. Anyone else. Her hands shook.
You are a princess, said a voice in her mind.Try to act like one.The voice was her mother’s, and it was already disappointed.
Sita straightened her back, and when she finally spoke, she relayed the message as simply as she could.
“He’s gone.”
Her words struck the crowd like a lightning bolt. The reaction was immediate.
“Send messengers to every nomarch in every city,” the queen told the viziers, while a bevy of priests pushed past Sita into the king’s chamber. Guards sent unnecessary onlookers on their way and swarmed around Mery—their new charge.
Kenna stood to the side, his long hands clasped in front of him, his face settled comfortably into mourning. He caught Sita’s gaze, and for an instant, she was a little girl again, crying as Kenna helped her bury a dead bird she’d found in the garden. He’d always been a strange, quiet boy, but he’d always been kind. He treated even the smallest creatures with respect—in life and in death. Mery had never understood him; the brothers were too different to relate to each other in any way. But Sita understood them both. Until Kenna left them for the priesthood.
We were close once. What happened to us?
She wanted to go to him, fall into his arms, and confess. She wanted him to tell her how to begin to fix all that she’d broken. But the last time she went to him, he had scorned her and turned her away. Perhaps she deserved that. Still, as she looked at Kenna across the bustling crowd, her own sorrow reflected in his face, she wondered if he didn’t wish he could go to her too.
Suddenly, a hand was on her shoulder and lips at her ear. “Come with me.”
Seeing his brother at Sita’s side, Kenna grimaced and turned his back on them all, walking briskly back the way he had come.
“Wait,” Sita said, but Mery’s grip was firm as he pulled her away.
A sob rose in her throat, but she forced it down and allowed Mery to lead her.
They’d only gone a few steps before the head guard caught up to them.
“My prince,” he said, “I must insist that you come with us. There is much to attend to, and we must ensure your safety.”
Mery stopped. “You forget yourself,” he said sharply.
A momentary hush fell over the gathered. Mery’s normally charming, cajoling tone was gone, replaced by something fearsome that had been waiting for its time to emerge.
“I may not yet wear the crown, but you are speaking to your future king. Our father is dead. You will give us a moment to grieve.”
The guard’s throat bobbed, and he bowed his head. “Of course, my prince. Please forgive me.”
The guard stood pinned by the prince’s imperious glare, until Mery released him with a dismissive wave.
Mery led Sita to a quiet corner and folded her into a tight embrace. It was exactly what she’d wanted from Kenna, but she didn’t feel comforted. It felt like it wasn’t for her benefit, but for the people watching. As soon as Mery bent to whisper in her ear, she knew her instincts were correct.
“You told him, didn’t you?” His hand cupped the back of her head, his touch both tender and predatory. “You told him our secret. Before he died.”
Sita’s breath caught in her throat, the sound proving her guilt just as surely as words could.
“Just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you?” Mery snapped. “Not that it matters now. But I’ll remember this, Sitamun. I’ll add it to the list of all your otherindiscretions.”
He smoothed the back of her hair with his hand, like one might stroke an animal. “You’ll need some work before you’ll make a fit queen. Lucky for you, I’m up to the task.”
Sita went rigid.
“What are you talking about?” she whispered.
Mery scoffed. “Did you really think I’d let you be sold off to some foppish prince from Tash? Did you really think I loved you so little?”
