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Otis’s breath was ragged, the scent of sweat rising from him thick. Zarrah’s own heart beat a frantic rhythm. Because while she was not certain why the sight of Lestara had triggered him, shecouldsee the direction Serin was pushing Otis. To take matters into his own hands and kill her.
Serin cleared his throat. “I… I hesitate to bring this fell information to light, but I do believe there is something you should know.”
“What information?”
Beads of sweat rolled down Zarrah’s back as she waited for Serin to reveal the information that would’ve sealed her fate if she’d not already intended to die tonight. Because sheknewwhat the spymaster was about to say.
“We’ve no way to confirm the truth of it, but the rumor is that Zarrah ordered Tasha’s ship sunk. And logic tells us that it could only have been her or Bermin, which means it was an Anaphora who saw your wife dead.”
A ragged sob tore from Otis’s lips, and Zarrah’s eyes burned with guilt. Serin’s words were no lie. There was every likelihood it had been her who’d given the order, which meant she was responsible for an innocent woman’s death. An unborn child’s death. Echoes of the love letter she’d stolen rippled through her mind, the fierce declarations of love from a woman who had deserved a better fate.
“She deserves to die.”
The snarled words tore Zarrah back to the moment, because there was no chance that Otis wouldn’t leave this tower with murder in his heart. He’d likely get his wish for her death, although not the manner he hoped for.
“Zarrah does deserve death, Your Highness. But your father has given specific orders that she is not to be harmed until Keris has the opportunity to see his plans through.”
“Not this time. He’s not getting his way in this.” Otis whirled away from the window, crossing the floor with rapid strides to exit the room, and Serin chuckled softly before he twitched the curtains shut.
Zarrah forced herself to breathe, peering around the edge of the curtain to see that Serin had resumed his position on the sofa. There was no chance of her getting past him to the bedroom without him raising an alarm, and if she didn’t catch Silas unprepared, she’d be unlikely to overcome him before the guards arrived.
Shit.
Sounds of Silas shouting at Lestara filling her ears, Zarrah leaned sideways and looked out the window. Her eyes skipped between the base of the tower and the covered walkway that connected the tower to the harem’s building.
Would Otis go now?
Would he burst into the harem’s quarters, and into her room, no matter the consequences?
She knew he would. Had heard it in Otis’s voice that he was past logic. Past reason. There was only anger and the desire for vengeance.
The moment she was discovered missing from her room, the alarm bells would ring, and the guards would be in here.
Quit yelling at Lestara and get back in this room,she willed Silas even as she kept her eyes on the paths to the harem’s quarters. She’d give herself until she saw Otis make his move, then she’d have no choice but to make her own.
But Otis never appeared.
Had he taken a different, secret route? Had he gone to secure some form of weapon by perhaps bribing a like-minded guard?
Or had she been wrong about his intent?
“Don’t move a muscle!” Silas’s voice shot her attention back to the room. “Where is Otis?”
Now or never. Zarrah squared her shoulders.
“His Highness took his leave,” Serin answered. “He was out of sorts over Keris’s actions in regards to the Anaphora woman. Which is understandable, given the losses he’s suffered at the hands of the Valcottans.”
Silas snorted. “Is he still weeping over his wife? It’s been a goddamned year.”
Zarrah barely heard his words, realization dawning on her as her mind leapt from the moment Otis had blanched at the sight of Lestara’s face to when he’d snarled,He’s not getting his way in this.
Otis wasn’t going to kill her. He was going to confront his brother. And God help her, Maridrinian princes killed one another all the time for reasons lesser than this.
“I’m famished,” Silas said. “And you promised me an update on the rebels contesting Petra’s rule.”
“They’ve pressed north out of their strongholds in the deep south, though their primary weapon is one Petra uses so adeptly herself.”
“Propaganda. Or murder?”
