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Brentley rolled his eyes. “And Far Shore?” he asked. “How did you turn them against us?”
Soren laughed sourly and shook his head. “That was actually the easiest part. They were already miffed about our alignment with High Cliff. So I merely raised their price of clear rock until they were paying more than double what everyone else in the Outer Realms was paying. That’s what really set them over the edge.”
“But—” Brentley frowned and shook his head. “Caulder refused to raise any prices. I clearly remember him saying that.”
“He did say it.” Soren nodded, his vapid smile spreading. “Except he wasn’t the one who dealt with them directly. I was. He trusted me to take care of that, to charge the prices he wanted charged.” With a shrug, he let out a rueful grin. “But oops. I must’ve misheard his instructions.”
“You bastard,” Brentley hissed, clenching his hands into fists at his sides.
Soren shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible. My mother had many lovers. But let’s get back to my brilliance, shall we? My favorite part in all this was when I wrote the same income into Donnelly’s budget reports as before, but pocketed the rest? And do you know what I did with the secret overflow?” His eagerness to reveal his brilliance made him throw back his head and laugh. “I gave it back to Far Shore to help them raise their army against you. Ironic justice, huh?”
He slapped his thigh and laughed because he was so tickled by his devious scheme. “Now that they’ve helped me take out the king—and then you next, Cousin Brentley—I’ll assume the crown and break my alliance with High Cliff so we can finally merge forces with Far Shore…as we were always meant to do.”
“And you still believe this plan is going to work?” Urban asked incredulously.
Soren just grinned at him. “The only people in my way is everyone in this room. And I just learned my lover is the bearer of dark magic. So I’d like to see you try to stop me.”
“Challenge accepted.” Allera raised her sword again, but this time, it was Urban who grasped her arm.
“No. He’s Vienne’s husband. Anniston’s father. You can’t just—”
“Trust me,” I said dryly. “I feel no attachment whatsoever for this monster. He planned to kill my child and betray my entire kingdom. And he’s stupid enough to believe Yasmin’s going to continue to back him. I’d just as soon he rot in hell than breathe another day in my realm.”
“Well, in that case…” Allera turned gleefully back to Soren.
But he only laughed, standing proudly against her without a single weapon as if he were invincible. “You people are idiots. Yasmin does have my back. Seriously, why would she leave me for the Far Shore prince when we’re this close to having everything? She worships the ground I walk on. She’d never let any of you even touch me, much less—”
Allera shut him up by swinging her sword and slicing open his stomach.
With a choke of surprise, Soren spent his last few seconds alive trying to catch his own guts in his hands as they tumbled from his insides and spilled to the floor. Wincing, I tucked his daughter closer to my chest so she couldn’t see, even though she wouldn’t remember it, anyway.
“That’s for wanting to kill my husband,” Allera said before she cut his throat next. “And that’s just because I don’t like you.”
Urban lifted his eyebrows. “Damn, sis.”
She glanced his way. “I told you I’d kill him someday.”
A gagging Nicolette stepped forward so she could spit on her cousin’s dying body. “And that's for Caulder,” she said just as Yasmin started to laugh.
The sound was slow at first until the queen was doubling over at the waist and holding her stomach. “Oh Lord,” she gasped, out of breath from her giggling. “Thank you. Thank you.” She glanced appreciatively at Allera. “He was truly beginning to annoy me. I mean, did you hear him? My lover will protect me. Ha! What a moron. I’m glad someone finally shut him up.”
“Oh, trust me, bitch.” Allera smiled darkly. “You’re next.”
But as soon as she swung her sword again, Yasmin lifted her own hand, fingers spread wide as she murmured, “I think not.”
She balled her hand into a fist, and just like that, the sword in Allera’s grip turned to ash, floating to the floor in a puff of white powder.
“Holy shit!” Urban exclaimed.
“My sentiments precisely,” Yasmin gasped, gaping at the dust on the marble floor that had once been Allera’s sword. “I didn’t know I could…” Spreading her fingers wide, she turned them so she could blink at her palms in astonishment. Then her lips spread into a smile. “The High Cliff priestess must’ve been more powerful than I thought. I had no idea I’d gained this many more abilities when I took her life and stole her magic.”
“Too bad you won’t get to experiment with your new powers ever again.” Dropping Soren’s sword he’d been holding, Urban pulled his own from its sheath and advanced slowly.
She sighed. “Really? After you just saw what I did to your sister’s little pocket knife?”
She lifted her hand and squeezed her fingers into another ball, but nothing happened. Frown wrinkles appeared between her eyes, and she tried to destroy his sword once again, forming another fist.
Urban kept advancing with a knowing smile. “This blade’s warded against magical destruction, sorry.”
