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His jaw tenses. “Because I would not agree with these plans.”
“And yet you had no trouble sending all that poison into my lands.” Zander glares at him.
“I was following orders from my prince, at the behest of the queen. I believed we were at war. And I believed Tyree when he said you had betrayed us.”
Because, beyond prince and soldier, they were friends. “And now?”
“Now … I know we are at war, but I no longer know which side I am to fight for.” His eyes flitter around the room. “I assume I’ll die no matter the choice.”
Abarrane harrumphs but doesn’t say anything. Perhaps his frank honesty has scored some points with her.
“How many vials of poison were there?” Zander asks.
“I do not know exactly—”
“Guess!”
“Thousands. At least. We did not count.”
I swear under my breath, peering at the spiderweb of tiny, blue-tinged veins in my wrists. Thousands of vials, with plenty of doses in each. Not enough to taint every mortal, but plenty to spark paralyzing fear. How long did it take to collect that much?
No wonder Kienen hasn’t openly questioned the story that Mordain created the poison. Even if he heard rumors about my blood, how could he believe such a thing? How could anyone?
I could correct him. I could explain how Queen Neilina forced Ianca to summon Aoife. It would shine a brighter light on her corruption. But it could also open other doors to things we’re not ready to admit to yet, like who—and what—I really am.
“King Barris’s alliance with my father would have given Ybaris desperate access to fertile soil so your population would not starve each winter. Queen Neilina murdered him for it, and now wages a war that will cost countless lives. What more do you need to hear to believe your queen’s treason against your own people?” Zander asks, trying to steer the conversation away from me and my secrets. “She wants power, she wants my lands. She wants to tear it apart from within and then come across the rift with an army emboldened by lies and deceit and claim it. She doesn’t care who dies, only that she wins.”
Silence lingers in the war room.
Until finally Kienen asks, “Forgive me for asking, Your Highness, but how are you standing here now? After all this treachery, why have the Islorians left you to live?”
Because I’m a key caster.
Because Zander is in love with me.
If Kienen truly has no clue about the summons to Aoife—which it seems he doesn’t—then he doesn’t know about the second part of the summoning, the one that makes Zander unable to resist the princess. Not that that seems to be an issue any longer. Zander loves me—Romy Watts of New York City. “Let’s just say I’ve seen the error of my ways, and Zander knows he needs me in order to win the war against my mother.”
“We have far bigger issues to discuss than Romeria’s treachery.” Zander flashes me a look of warning, refocusing on the map, moving stones into position. “Telor’s men will arrive outside these gates soon, and we need to convince them that I am not a traitor to Islor.”
Kienen bites his bottom lip. “And you think having an army of Ybarisans and saplings will prove that?”
“No, I think it will do exactly the opposite until I have a chance to speak with Lord Telor,” Zander admits. “I do not want a battle with them. But if we are drawn into one, we will win. I can promise you that.” The confidence in Zander’s voice brokers no argument.
“Queen Neilina used you and those soldiers outside to help kill innocent people. This is your chance to help us fix that,” I add, banking on the hope that Kienen is a soldier with a conscience.
Kienen’s chest heaves with a sigh. “The men outside these gates will not take commands from an Islorian king, exiled or current. But they have pledged their allegiance to the royal family. They will follow their princess’s orders.”
“Even at the rift?”
His expression hardens. “King Barris was beloved by many. If they were to learn the truth of his death and that Queen Neilina leads us into an unnecessary war, they will not be so eager to aid her cause.”
Abarrane’s hand releases its white-knuckled grip of her pommel. Beside me, Jarek’s tense frame seems to relax.
One down. I release a slow sigh as I turn to Radomir. “And the saplings … how many of you are there?”
“At last count, there were three hundred within the stronghold,” he confirms. “Those are the ones who follow my lead.”
“And will they follow my lead? Zander’s lead?”
He hesitates. “You said this power only works within Ulysede’s walls?”
“For now, yes. But my goal is to end the blood curse everywhere.” If I can figure out a way that won’t bring death and destruction to all. “I want everyone to be free of it. And then this poison Ybaris brought will no longer be an issue.”
