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All of me stills. Chills branch across my spine.
“Prince Mikal lived long enough to relay to the healers that Farrid was killed while protecting him from a ‘white-haired’ assassin.”
My stomach drops. White hair means winter fey. But that can’t be. They’re allies.
Or at least, they were.
Now my father’s eyes gleam gold, though there’s a thoughtful glint to it. “Farrid’s sacrificial actions, combined with Prince Mikal’s dying pleas for peace, are what finally propelled King Johan to agree to a treaty.” He holds my gaze a moment longer and folds his hands at his back. “I will not have you threaten this peace by weakening our nation through a fruitless union.”
Silence again. Yawning, dangerous. My mind whirls over the new information, the throbbing reality that of course Farrid would give himself to save another.
I swallow hard and push through the revelation as much as I can. “Then no one knew Farrid would be there? No one leaked it?”
My father shakes his head, but though the motion speaks of exasperation, his voice remains even. “You ask questions no one has answers for.”
“But questions that should be asked.” I cross my arms once more and lift a brow. “Maybe whoever is behind Alia and me is working with our enemies to dismantle our kingdom. Maybe someone from the court informed the assassin’s master that Farrid would be traveling for negotiations.” Emotion catches in my throat. Yet a deeper understanding of my brother’s death changes nothing about the immediate circumstances of a bride for me.
My father scrutinizes me and waits.
I stamp down any stray nerves. “So yes, especially in light of all this, I will marry Alia, as I should have done seven years ago. You have two choices when I do. The first option is that you will accept my immediate abdication and name one of my cousins as heir instead. The other is that I assume the throne and reign until one of my brothers’ children is of age, at which point I will step down without resistance. Or, if you fancy, a third: you coronate me, I immediately relinquish back to you, andyoureign until one of your grandchildren comes of age.”
He purses his lips and shoots me a dismissive scowl. “You know the magic can’t be deceived.”
“Then that makes your choice even easier.”
His mouth tightens, but he doesn’t respond.
I don’t wait long. “If I had married her seven years ago and all three of them still died, you’d be in the same situation you are in now. Faced with the same predicament. Only, we likely would’ve had children by then to further complicate matters. Be grateful that isn’t the case.”
He groans deep in his throat and pushes off the desk. His glare settles on the floor for a second before lifting back to me. “But we are not.Youare the crown prince, and you are unattached. If what you speak of regarding treason is true, then we cannot risk weakening our kingdom —”
“We won’t. I can stay crown prince. I can become king. You can start the transition ritual this very moment. Or we can proceed with one of the other possibilities.”
His glower melts into something more like curiosity.
“Three days ago, you asked if my rule will be reckless. The answer is no.” I pause to let the word resonate. Then I lower my voice. “But hear me now, Father: I will be ruthless. I will protect this kingdom and its people by any means necessary. I will not stop until I uncover every thread of treachery.” I take a step closer to him. “And Iwillhave the woman I want as my wife.”
Another step toward him. His throat tenses, and he lifts his chin.
“And if I find out that you had something to do with tearing her from me before — or if you evenattemptto tear her from me now — you will face a much greater problem than an unruly crown prince who wishes to marry a servant.” My eyes surely glow, but I don’t care. “Don’t forget, Father, that for the last seven years, I have lived and fought and bled alongside the army of Hazal.” I tip my head toward the door to indicate the men who left just moments ago. “Do you wish to see who those soldiers will side with if you push me to war?”
“You’d go to war over this girl?” He sucks in a sharp breath, but the gravity in the lines of his face says he knows the answer full well. “Against your own people? Your own family?”
“I advise that you don’t push me hard enough to find out what I’d do for her.” I offer a faint smile. “The better course of action would be to concede to the choice you said was mine, decide how you want to proceed after the wedding, and focus your ire toward finding the criminals who put us in this situation in the first place.”
If I expect anything, it’s annoyance. I definitely don’t expect the somehow triumphant, even proud, smirk to play across his lips.
He dips his head and rolls his shoulders back to make himself taller. We still aren’t eye level. “Your negotiation tactics could use some intense polishing, but I suppose that can grow in time. I will consider the options carefully, and we will discuss this in the days to come. Is that acceptable to you, Prince Kirran?”
“It is.”
“May I presume that your chosen bride will join us this evening?”
A flicker of doubt grips my chest, but I ignore it. “Yes. She’ll be there.”
“Very well. I shall look forward to meeting this…delightful young woman of yours.” He gives a short bow. His cloak billows behind him as he strides toward the windows again.
I turn to go.
