Page 106 of To Save a Kingdom

Pulling a tiny filament of power from her core, she flicked her fingers.

The council members jumped back, many calling out in alarm as the papers scattered across the table burst into flames.

Curling her lips into a tight grin, Aliya curled one hand into a fist, extinguishing the fire before it could damage her marble tabletop. “I’m sorry. This is my castle. Did I give you the impression I was asking?”

The advisors glanced at their king, barely daring to breathe.

A flood of warmth spread through Aliya’s chest at the satisfaction that came with reminding Roland she wasn’t some meek woman he could bully and ignore.

He nodded, and his nobles marched out of the room as quickly as they could without running.

Zadé threw her a crooked grin as she followed, shutting the door behind them.

Elessan was already lounging against the back wall, his arms crossed—the perfect picture of nonchalance.

One day, maybe she’d be as talented an actress as he was.

“Now that we’re alone,” Aliya said, moving to stand across the table from Roland. “We have a few things we need to discuss.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Oh? If you think some flames are going to intimidate me, girl, you’ve got another think coming.”

Ignoring the comment, Aliya slapped down her copy of the original trade agreement. It was hard to believe it had been less than a week ago. “Indeed.” Pinning Roland with a glare that would’ve sent lesser men fleeing, she took a deep breath. “We are going to dissolve our marriage contract. You are going to publicly acknowledge and agree to the treaty your daughter and I negotiated.” She held up a hand when he moved to protest. “And you are going to take your forces and march back to your lands. In return, I won’t tell anyone you have a human ancestor.”

Roland blinked at her, the sun-kissed skin going pale. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Flaring his nostrils as he inhaled, he said, “How did you know?”

Raising and dropping one shoulder in a casual shrug, Aliya crossed her arms. “That’s not important.”

Roland narrowed his eyes, shifting his gaze from her to Elessan and Zadé, then back again. “Isn’t it?”

Aliya pulled a dagger from the folds of her skirt, the same one Elessan had given her. “I will swear to you, in blood, your secret will not leave this room, if you agree to my terms and put your signature beneath your daughter’s on this treaty.”

With a grunt, Roland collapsed into the chair and reached for the paper. “You can’t expect me to sign without reading the full contract.”

“Of course not.” Aliya sat with far more grace than he had, crossing her ankles and interlacing her fingers in her lap as she waited. There was no way he wasn’t already fully aware of each clause and subsection of the agreement. He was too much of a control freak for it to be otherwise. More likely, he didn’t trust her not to sneak in a new condition or two and then try to trick him into signing it.

But she didn’t care. Allies didn’t need trust as long as they both kept their word.

Silence stretched across the room as Roland took his time, the crinkle of parchment as he flipped to the second page was stark in the silent room.

Aliya glanced toward Zadé and Elessan. The general winked at her. Elessan only nodded, a slight movement she would’ve missed if she wasn’t staring right at him.

Roland’s eyes met hers. “This is the exact agreement.”

She dipped her head. “It is.”

“You didn’t make any changes.” He furrowed his brows. “What’s the catch?”

“There is none. It’s as I said. You honor the treaty Tsara and I negotiated, renounce our marriage contract, and remove your armies from my kingdom. In exchange, I…” she flicked her head toward Elessan, “we will take your secret to our graves.” Be that sooner or later.

Roland tilted his head to the side and stared at her as if she were some sort of puzzle or riddle he couldn’t figure out. “It’s that simple for you?”

“It is. And it could be for you, too.” If only he’d quit making everything harder than it needed to be.

“I don’t know how you’ll make it as a royal without the ability to prevaricate. But…” He grabbed a quill and dipped it in the ink well in the center of the table. “I wish you the best of luck.”

With that dry tone, Aliya had no doubt he wished her the exact opposite, but as long as it got his signature on paper, her out of marrying him and his forces out of her city, she didn’t care what he thought about her or her methods.

The tip of the pen pressed against the parchment with a soft scrape. “There,” he said, dropping the feather. “Happy?”