Page 69

Xerxes sat on a plush chair with his elbow propped on the armrest, his fist smooshed into his cheek and holding his head up as he watched. He slid the sleeve of his new robe of nobility over his hands, freshly scathed from doing his worst to all those statues. A smirk still found his mouth every time someone new walked into the lobby and looked around in horror at the mess he’d made of their star gods.

With Norkin taking a trip back to the ruins of Messa to search for remaining branches of the Messa people, Xerxes had run out of things to do days ago.

“Why are you keeping me in the palace by your side, Your Majesty?” Kai asked when he reached Xerxes’s chair. “I’m not complaining… I haven’t eaten this well in years.” He glanced in the direction of the kitchens. “But some Folke here are still concerned with the old way of thinking. They cringe when I walk past, you know. I imagine it’s because I’m an Adriel.”

Xerxes lifted himself off one armrest, then resettled himself on the other one, propping up his face again. “I still cringe when you walk past, too,” he remarked. “It’s strange having Adriels in here with us. But the Folke will get used to it. I still don’t trust them, even with the Intelligentsia gone, and General Reza is too old and sick to guard me. He denies his inability, but trust me, if you look at him hard enough, you can see he looks like he’s already been dead for ten years.”

Kai did a lot of blinking in five seconds. “And you think I’ll protect you?”

“Why not? Are you trying to assassinate me again, Kai Electus?” Xerxes dropped his fist, his arm slapping his chair as he looked up at the Adriel traitor who’d lied about his identity the first time Xerxes had met him. Though, Xerxes had to admit, Kai Electus had proven he was an excellent spy hunter back then.

But it didn’t change that he’d lied. And sometimes—just sometimes—Xerxes got the inkling Kai was hiding something again. Like right now, when he looked guilty for no reason.

Kai choked on a forced laugh. “I wasn’t… I would never try to… I would never…”

Xerxes smirked at the fool who couldn’t spit out the word assassinate before his King. “If you want to leave, then leave.” He waved a hand through the air. “You’re not a prisoner here. You’re not even reporting anything to me like I asked.”

Kai put his hands on his hips, rattling a dagger there as he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Well, it’s difficult to learn any news about Ryn when you’re always summoning me and keeping me here with you,” he whispered loudly. “I haven’t even left the palace in a week. How am I supposed to find information on my cousin like this?”

In delightful timing, a servant walked over with a platter of cocoa-covered fruit—one of the many delicacies Xerxes had caught Kai eating all throughout the day on several occasions. Xerxes reached for one and held it high in the air as if studying the dark, creamy shell. “Leave then,” he invited. He popped the fruit into his mouth. “Mmm.” He made an agonized face and reached for another.

Kai’s gaze followed the next fruit, right into Xerxes’s mouth. And the one after that. He scratched the back of his neck and murmured, “Well, I’m not saying I’m dying to get out of here or anything.” He inched toward the platter, and the servant bowed slightly as she moved the dish toward him.

Xerxes grabbed the platter in mid-air, and Kai’s fingers paused above a cocoa fruit. “These are for people who dwell in the palace. They’re not for people who leave whenever they want.”

Kai snorted and took the other side of the platter, tugging it toward himself. The servant’s cheeks blanched as she looked back and forth between them. Kai snatched a fruit and ate it fast.

Xerxes made a face and released the tray to the Adriel liar. He watched as Kai ate another one, then took the whole platter from the servant and wandered to the open spot beside Xerxes’s chair. He sat on the floor and continued eating.

“Adriels,” Xerxes muttered, shaking his head.

Kai licked cocoa off his fingers. “You say it like a curse, but you’re the one passing a law for Weylins to be able to marry Adriels. Are you still planning to follow through with it even though my cousin is gone?” Xerxes’s brief smile faded, and Kai raised a brow. “Don’t tell me you’re too repulsed by our blood to fulfill the commitment you made to this law.”

“You just want to be allowed to marry that Weylin guardswoman. What was her name again? Heva?”

Kai choked on a fruit. He slammed a fist against his chest, then shouted, “Are you mad, King?” All the servants scooping up rocks glanced their way.

“Mad?” Xerxes tugged his crown off and shot Kai a look. “You realize who you’re speaking to, right? That is no way to talk to your King.”

Still, Kai tsked. “Your bias toward us is based on those histories you were forced to read when you were young like all Weylin children in schools now.” Kai polished off the platter of fruit and set it aside with a clatter. He leaned back on his palms, his chest wide open to the room. “You know those have been highly altered from the originals. They’re not true at all.”

A nearby servant grunted as he lifted a particularly large chunk of Helios’s smashed head. He slammed it onto a cart and braced against the fountain to catch his breath.

Xerxes relaxed against his chair, twirling his crown in his fingers. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, watching the same servant try and locate the other half of Helios’s head. “What do you mean, altered?” he finally asked.

“Oh, come on. You really don’t know? The last original histories were in the First Temple your Folke burned to the ground.”

Xerxes sat up straight. “What?” he growled. “You mean… the only real records of our history were burned? They’re gone?”

Kai shrugged. “No. I know them all. I studied for eight years at the Priesthood.” He sat forward and brushed off his hands, then he climbed to his feet. “I’m sure High Priestess Geovani knows them all too, and probably all of her priestesses.” A look crossed his face, and he glanced off. “Actually, there’s a group of highly knowledgeable Adriel priests scattered across the prisons of the Mother City who could recite them to you as well—word for word.”

Xerxes scratched his chin with his crown. “Prisons…” His mouth twisted. “You mean, they’re criminals?” He glanced up when Kai grunted.

“You’re a worse criminal than they are,” he said.

Xerxes sighed and slapped his crown back onto his head. “See, there you go doing that again. Your manner is horrifying, Kai Electus, and you should learn to watch your tongue. You Adriels are truly the worst at observing royal etiquette.”

“Would you like me to leave, then?”