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“With her. Not with you.” His lips twist with bitterness. “There was no conspirator within our walls, not in the way Zander has painted it. Not in a way that might lessen your blame. But I’m not sure he sees that. I’m not sure he sees anything anymore, beyond his keen focus on all things Romeria.”
“That’s not true.” Even with Atticus’s chastising words, warmth spreads through my chest.
“What I witnessed the other night in the alleyway—”
“There were guards around, and we looked suspicious.”
His flat expression says he doesn’t believe a word. He studies his hands for a long moment. “They will never allow you to be queen, not after what has happened.”
“It’s a good thing I don’t want to be.”
“You two are quite the pair, then, because I’m not sure Zander wants to be king.” He slides from his seat and leaves without another word.
I watch him stroll away, his shoulders sagging.
“Did you hear any of that?” I ask when Elisaf returns.
“I did, Your Highness.”
“And I assume you know what Zander suspects happened on that escort to Cirilea?”
Elisaf’s brown eyes flash to me, understanding in them. He confirms it with a nod.
“So he just lied to my face.”
Elisaf frowns. “What should he have said? The truth?”
“I guess not.” Not if he thinks no one knows of his indiscretion. I sigh. “I don’t trust him. I think Atticus wants to be king.”
“Of course he does. He is King Eachann’s second-born son. He has a claim to the throne, should something befall Zander.”
“Exactly.”
“That does not mean he conspired to take it.”
Clearly, Elisaf holds Atticus in high regard, too. “So then what was this visit about?”
“He is frustrated by his brother’s choices, and I believe he was taking your measure.”
“For what?”
“That, I do not know.” He settles into his chair and returns to his book.
But my thoughts wander to my memories. To Tony, contemplating his options as his brother lay dying on the floor. While the big oaf may not have had anything to do with orchestrating Korsakov’s demise, he saw the opportunity to rule the crooked little kingdom.
What would a brother do to rule an actual kingdom?
“The only time the little urchin stops talking is when he’s hiding!” Corrin glowers as she yanks the silk coverlet over my bed. “It took us over three hours and the help of a guard to find him earlier!”
I laugh as I finish off some shading on my sketch. “I assume they’re settling in?”
“A family suite in the servants’ quarters. Oh yes, I should think so. I have half a mind to lock the room from the outside until she can chase after her own youngins.”
“Please don’t. I can speak from personal experience when I say being locked in a room for a month sucks.”
“You deserved to be locked up,” she counters.
“You’re right, I did. But they don’t. They’ve been through enough. Did you see her swollen ankles? And how tired she looks? That table was literally covered in food that she made herself. Their keeper is a monster. He’s likely been abusing them for years. Who knows how many others there are?” Just thinking about that smug face makes me grit my teeth.
