“What did you just say?”
“Some kitchen girl slit his throat.” He gave a harsh laugh, which sounded half crazed.
I straightened at that, my heart pounding in my chest. “Who?”
“A human.”
I jerked forward with shock, but he didn’t notice my reaction and kept speaking.
“Helped by another, a peri from River. I don’t know why I bother employing anyone from this Court.” He gave me a scathing look.
A ringing sounded in my ears, and I could barely hear the rest of what Reza was saying.
A human slit Faisal’s throat.
But I didn’t have time to think about what that meant. A fae boy carrying an armful of weapons for the soldiers walked by, struggling. Reza raised a boot and planted it hard into his back, sending him sprawling into the dirt.
“Practice is done, boy,” he snarled. The boy hurried to gather the swords but fumbled with them. Reza approached him with a sneer, lifting a hand as if to touch him, as if to use his magic on him. I stiffened, a rush of panic flooding my veins. I stood in front of the boy, trying to distract Reza.
“Rebels?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. Reza looked up from the boy, his annoyance being replaced by a thin smile.
“Not surprised there are rebels working in the palace, Kiyan? Shouldn’t you be distressed that two rebel females managed to bring down my general?” His voice was a low hiss, but I knew his moods by now.
Reza needed coddling and managing, like a spoiled child who liked tearing the wings off pixies, and could never be directly told off. You just had to hide all the pixies from him. And if his torture needed an outlet, I would rather it be me than a boy happening upon his path at the wrong time.
“There are no rebels in the palace,” I lied. “And I told Faisal that. He was obsessed. If you ask me, he was more taken with a female in the kitchen than suspecting them of treason. I don’t know what happened, but if I were to guess, I’d say she likely stabbed him to keep his wandering hands off her.”
It was just speculation, based on all the unsavory things I knew about Faisal, but I needed to give Reza another reason for his death as I tried to play catch-up with what had happened. I didn’t want him to suspect this was the work of rebels or have Reza looking too closely at his staff.
He’d find too many things right under his nose.
And we weren’t prepared for that yet, we needed more time .
Reza frowned, turning my words over in his mind and rubbing his chin. “Yes, he does have a history of muddying himself where females are concerned.”
He spit on the ground at that, not noticing the tight curl of my fist against my side. But when he glanced up at my face, I knew it was a smooth mask.
I’d have never survived if I hadn’t learned to control my reactions long ago.
I cleared my throat, trying to keep my tone measured. “Faisal shouldn’t have even been here. I heard the Court of Salt’s border is still under attack. There are other battles to fight.”
“Well, no more for him, now.” He shrugged his shoulders as if a fly had been stepped on instead of the death of his most effective war general.
“No.” I raised a brow and looked out of the training field. Faisal being dead was very good indeed—he had been a thorn in my side all summer. If he was gone, the rest of the pieces could be put into place, and there was one less enemy to dispense with.
But did that mean the human girl was dead? I tried to understand the sinking disappointment I felt, knowing she would’ve been the subject of Salt wrath.
Reza stood beside me, a petulant look on his face. His shirt was partially undone, and King Rusul’s gold crown that sat embedded in his chest was partially visible.
A memory of Reza arriving in River came back to me, the image of him striding through the swaths of dead soldiers on the battlefield, the ancient King’s crown in his hand. As soon as my father had seen it, he looked at me with terror in his eyes and told me to run.
I’d listened to him, tearing off into the woods, joining other children in hiding before realizing my father hadn’t been behind me.
And then I had watched Faisal and Reza kill him, draining his magic, twisting his tongue and feet, before stabbing him through the heart.
After Reza had taken all my father’s power for his own, he’d melted King Rusul’s crown into his chest, the arches of gold like the mast of a shipwreck rising above the water in his skin. From that day on, the King’s ancient fae power was permanently part of the Viceroy’s body, and not a soul in River could harm him.
Our magic was then one-tenth of what it had been.
