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“No, Serin. I hearexactlywhat you are saying.” Setting his glass on the table, Keris rose. “I’ve no intention of returning to Nerastis until I’ve achieved what I came here to do, which is to impress my father enough that he doesn’t have you dispatch someone to stick a knife in my back.”
“He’d order no such thing. Truly, Highness, your imagination runs wild.”
“Does it?” Keris leaned across the table, close enough to see the pieces of dried skin that clung to the man’s grey stubble. “Then why are you hunting my sister?”
“Because Lara is a traitor.”
Keris barked out a surprised laugh. “Don’t use the games intended for Aren Kertell on me, old man. I know you raised her to betray the Ithicanians and that you hunt her only because you dislike loose ends.”
“Not a traitor to Ithicana, Highness. A traitor to Maridrina.”
“How so? She delivered my father the bridge, for God’s sake. She did the impossible.”
“There is a certain amount of mystery and confusion surrounding your sister’s actions, Keris, but there is one thing we know for certain: her heart and loyalty belong to Aren Kertell.”
Keris was immediately reminded of what Coralyn had said. That the King of Ithicana was still in love with his wife. “Stabbing a man in the back is a peculiar method of showing affection, but I suppose it’s no surprise. She was raised byyouafter all.”
Serin gave him a sour smile. “Indeed. Which is why I know that she will go to the ends of the earth to protect those she loves, even if it means betraying kingdom and crown. She is fierce and brave and tremendously dangerous when provoked, which makes her a liability we can no longer afford. Whereas you, Highness, are a timid, cowardly little shit who is a threat to no one but yourself. Your father will not see you assassinated because it’s not worth his time. And because some whore you’ve angered will likely do the job for us soon enough.”
Rising, the Magpie went to the door. “Get yourself back to Nerastis, Keris. Go back to your wine and women, and leave the ruling to those of us who know how to wield power.”
Fuck off,was the thought that rose in his head, but Keris only exhaled and glared at the man’s departing back. Forcing his eyes back to his letter, he reread his proposal to the Empress, his words blurring in and out of focus. A fine balance between asking enough that his father wouldn’t suspect but not so much as to put off the Empress. Whether he’d succeeded, only time would tell.
Swearing softly, Keris signed and sealed the letter, shoving it into one of the enameled tubes his father used for official correspondence.
As he strode down the stairs, he silently prayed,Let this work. Let the Empress buy her free of us.Yet even as the thought rolled through his head, another came on its heels. One that whispered that regardless of the outcome, it would be his father who was the victor.
42
ZARRAH
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Zarrah jerked awake, skin drenched and her heart beating chaotically in her chest. She peered into the dark, certain she’d see her mother’s corpse dangling above her. Certain that the dampness on her skin was blood, and that when she looked down again, her mother’s head would be in her lap.
But her hands were empty.
All around was darkness, the smells unfamiliar, the bedding beneath her fingers cotton rather than silk. Then female laughter filtered through the walls, and sheremembered.
She was in Vencia. In Silas Veliant’s palace. In the harem’s quarters.
Tap.
She jumped at the noise, searching the darkness, only to hear it again.
Tap.
It came from the direction of the window, the sound what must have triggered her dream. Rising, she donned a silk wrap over the nightdress she wore, walking cautiously to the window. It was small, perhaps three feet across and four feet high, and beyond the frosted glass were steel bars that were bolted to the stone of the window frame.
Tap.
Kneeling on the cushioned window seat, she unfastened the latch on the glass and swung it inward.
Only to have a pebble strike her in the forehead. Swearing under her breath, Zarrah pressed her head to the bars and looked down into the shadows.
“Valcotta?”
Keris’s whispered voice filtered up from bushes at the base of the building three stories below. Picking up the pebble that had struck her, Zarrah stuck her arm through the bars, then aimed at the slight movement she saw.
