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When had she ever been? Radu dropped to his knees, hanging his head. “This is my fault. I should have been there. I should have gone to her, and sent Kumal to…If I had, then—”
A light, trembling hand settled on his shoulder. Nazira spoke in a whisper. “What does he mean? Tell me what he means, Radu.”
Radu shook his head. “I should have known. She is my sister. I of all people know that mercy is not in her nature. It should have been me.” Being a Dracul had cost him so much. He had thought he was done paying for the blood that ran through his veins. But he would never be done. The price of being in his family was everything he held dear, taken from him over and over again. They were the dragons. The devils. There was no mercy in them or for them.
Nazira knelt next to him. “Tell me. Tell me exactly what he means.”
Radu’s punishment was having to say the words. Having to do this to Nazira. “She killed him.”
An unearthly wail started, so low at first that Radu did not know what it was until it built to a scream. Nazira, who had always been so strong, was broken. Fatima dropped down next to her, taking her in her arms. Nazira screamed and sobbed, clawing at Fatima’s arms as though she could burrow in there and hide herself from sorrow.
Radu did not know what to do. Could not do anything. “I am— Nazira, I am so sorry, I—”
“Please,” Fatima said. She shook her head in warning. “Please stop talking.” She held out one arm and Radu crawled to the two women.
Fatima held them both up.
Radu pictured Kumal as he had last seen him. Smiling. Waving. An unbidden image of his brother, his teacher, his friend sliced like a blade through his memory. Lada killing Kumal. How had she done it? With a knife? A sword? Had Kumal fought back? Radu did not want to imagine it, did not want to picture it. Could not stop.
He did not realize the guttural sobs were coming from himself until Fatima stroked his back, making a soft shh sound. Nazira grabbed his arm, her fingers digging in painfully as she dragged him closer and buried her face in his shoulder. She shook, silent now, her breath coming in shuddering gasps. They were all three a tangle, a mess of devastation.
It was not appropriate to behave this way with a servant, but Radu no longer cared to maintain that charade of Fatima’s role. Not now. Not in front of Mehmed, who had not moved to comfort or even touch him. Let Mehmed see and know what he wanted to.
Radu cried with his family, for all they had lost.
For all he had cost them.
Tirgoviste
LADA SURVEYED THE BRIDGE mournfully. “Are we certain we do not have enough gunpowder to just blow it up?”
Nicolae put a hand on her shoulder and gave a grim nod. “I am afraid we have to dismantle it the old-fashioned way: by forcing other people to do it.”
Lada and Nicolae stood on a hill overlooking the work. Below, her men supervised a group of criminals in tearing down the bridge. It was the first of several they had to visit that day. She wanted to oversee everything, to make certain the tasks were done. It was also a chance to take stock of the countryside.
“All that work to make the roads safe,” she said, scuffing one boot through the dirt, “and now our job is to make the country impassable.”
“We do not have to do this, you know.” Nicolae was using that soft voice again, the one that slipped like a blade between her ribs. They had not spoken privately since the fight in her rooms. She had not wanted to. She did not want to now.
She delivered her words like angry blows. “And what should we do instead?”
Beneath the scar that bisected his face, Nicolae’s expression was wistful. “I rather liked being bandits. We could do that again. Slip away in the night and never look back.”
Lada leaned back in surprise. She had expected him to push for a new treaty again. “Why would we do that?”
“Because it would be easy. Because we can. We do not have to choose this.”
“Are you afraid?”
Nicolae laughed. “Of course I am afraid. You are demanding the greatest military in the world come fight you. I have been in that military. I know what they can do. I dream about it every night. I am so scared I have had to cut back drinking simply to avoid pissing my pants as frequently.” He paused, and that horrible soft tone came back. He stared at her as though committing her face to memory. “I am afraid to die, and I am afraid to watch you die, powerless to stop it. Every step we take in this direction feels like one step closer to your grave. I do not want to see that.” He cleared his throat, looking away with an automatic smile. “Though we will not have graves, I suspect. Pikes for our heads, if we are very lucky.”
Lada lifted her eyes to the sky. She had left Bogdan in Tirgoviste to avoid having conversations filled with emotions she did not want to address. Apparently she should have left Nicolae as well. But he was one of her oldest friends, her first supporter, the one who had gotten her into the Janissary ranks. Her father had given her a knife; Nicolae had given her a sword.
“You did it,” he pressed. “You became prince. No one ever said you had to stay prince. We have so many other options.”
“I cannot leave.”
“Why?”
