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She hesitates.
“What?”
“King Tiberias just announced he’s going to fight his brother to the death for the crown.”
I just stare at her.
“Sorry to be the one to tell you.” She races away.
So much for being able to reason with my uncle.
“Anything important?” Middlebrooks asks.
I turn around slowly. “Tiberias wants to fight Dad to the death.”
Her face pales. “The literal death? It’s not a euphemism?”
“Doesn’t sound like it. Winner gets the crown.”
“Your father already has the crown!”
“But for how long? The people want Tiberias back. He’s the eldest son of the previous king.”
Middlebrooks scrunches her face. “None of that matters. Drake was coronated. He is the king. Period, end of story. Let’s get out of here. He needs us now more than ever.”
“But we still have to find Halen and Bash.”
She looks at me like I’m crazy. “I’m sure they’re fine. Kids skip school all the time.”
“Not Halen.”
“Bash does.” She hefts a bag over her shoulder. “There’s a car waiting for us outside.”
“He wouldn’t! Not now. He’s trying to turn things around for himself.”
Middlebrooks gets in my face. “Your father is the priority. His life is on the line. I don’t know what your friends are doing, but it’s normal academy behavior, I assure you.”
I don’t buy it, but I follow her through the crowded halls to the car. It doesn’t make sense that they’d go somewhere without telling me. Especially with everything else going on.
The ride over seems to take forever. Middlebrooks downs more wine than seems necessary, but at least she isn’t talking my ear off. It gives me the space to think—not that thinking does much good.
When we approach the castle, the driver takes us around to the back. Now we’re not even welcome to enter through the main doors? It might be harder to get to my uncle than I thought.
I may have to choose a side. The uncle who could help me or the dad whose life is on the line because he tried to kill his brother.
If only my mom were here. She’d know what to do. But she isn’t, and all I have is Middlebrooks, who has just emptied a bottle of wine.
The driver drops us off, and we enter a door tucked between some plants. Not even any guards stand there.
“No servants?” I ask.
“This door is usually locked.” Her words slur together.
“Meaning it’s supposed to be now.”
She nods. “Come on. You’re father’s this way.”
“Why are we sneaking around?”
