Page 149 of The Dragon and the Dove

Not for the first time, Theo cursed Hale to hell.

‘Perceptive one, your Saint of Nightmares,’ remarked Andreas. ‘Shame he’s so incorruptible.’ He smirked. ‘Unlike you, Versini.’

Theo’s mouth was too dry to respond. He couldn’t tear his eyes off Fabian.

‘Here is your test of loyalty,’ said the Silver-tongue. ‘Kill the boy.’

Fabian’s throat bobbed, his hands fisting at his sides. It was not enough to hide their trembling.

‘No,’ said Theo at once.

Andreas clicked his fingers, and every sword in the room slid from its sheath. ‘Then I’ll kill you both.’

Theo shot to his feet. ‘Wait.’

Andreas raised a hand, pinning his soldiers in place.

Theo’s soul thrashed, at odds now with his heart. He couldn’t kill the boy. It was inconceivable, unconscionable.

He’s already marked, said the old voice.

Why not gain something from it?

It would require the surrendering of every last moral fibre, severing his connection to the Order of Flames in one clean blow. They would hate him. And he would deserve it.

But then you would be free.

Free to claim your destiny.

Free to wear the crown you deserve.

‘How would you like to do it?’ said Andreas. ‘You could devour his soul. Mortal as he is, I’m sure it would go down easy.’

It would be quick.

It would be clean.

Nausea plumed. Theo gripped the back of his chair, trying to find a way out of this hell.

‘He was right about you,’ said Fabian in a small voice. ‘You’re just like Hugo Versini.’

Quiet words for such a crushing blow.

Theo flinched.

‘Give him a sword.’ Andreas had returned to his seat and was refilling his goblet. A sword was shoved into Theo’s hand and the chair removed until he stood across from Fabian, with nothing but steel between them.

‘I don’t want to kill you,’ he said.

‘But you will,’ said Fabian, holding his gaze. Theo was struck by how like Hale he was – as stubborn as a mule. The boy refused to cower, even as he trembled. ‘So get on with it.’

Andreas crowed with laughter. ‘You heard him, Versini! Get on with it!’

One strike to secure your future.

Has greatness ever cost so little?

And still, he stalled.