“I think it’s quite a luxury to be able to sit around and wait for fate.”
I face him on the rock, arms crossed. “I’m not saying it was easy losing my father.”
He faces me, too. “But what about everyone else’s father? And mother? You don’t care about them since they never had a chance to begin with? Since at least you have a fancy horse and a glass of wine?”
I recoil, unsure how we ended up here and what fire I’ve lit in him. I’m the one who needs sympathy, not him. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying it’s not much of a life, lounging around with power but doing nothing.”
A bitter laugh escapes me. “And what you’re doing—running across the world with a gun—is better?”
“Yes, because I know what guns can accomplish. My home was built with bullets. I’m doing what’s in my power, and while it will never be the same as yours, at least it’s something.”
I think of the protesters and realize they have something infuriatingly in common with the General’s bold men. I point a finger. “And that’s exactly what’s wrong with you Safire. You think anyone has the right to rule and change the world, but that’s not the way it is.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s an order to things! God put leaders in place, kings who know how to rule and guide properly. It’s how it’s always been and—”
I realize he’s laughing at me. He’s laughing at me like I’ve just told a marvelous joke.
“My God, you actually believe all this, don’t you?” he exclaims.
I turn from him, furious now. I could slap him for being so cruel, right at the moment when I thought to trust him. I want to yell at him and say, “People like you are the ones who took my father! People like you who are rotten enough to think you know better!” I want to yell at him until my voice is hoarse, not because it’s him, but because I can. Because he has no idea what the truth is, and what I’m fighting for, and how miserably afraid I am of what might happen if Seath isn’t defeated. If the protesters keep growing in numbers, and if they discover some way to connect Mother to the trouble in the South.
I have to think about all of these things, and all he has to do is follow a damn order.
It’s not fair.
He waves at the palace. “Tell me, Princess, how does someone born inside there ever learn to rule? I’m genuinely curious. What brilliant thing is your brother going to teach the world when he sits on that throne? What does he know that no one else does?”
I sit silently. I hate that I have no answer.
“That’s not how leaders are made,” Athan finishes. “You go through something horrible, you prove yourself, and then you’re a leader. Those are the ones who change the world.”
“Stars!” I stand up suddenly, just so I can stare down at him. It’s vainly cathartic. “You think we can’t rule? Who are you to talk? Look at your arrogant general! Controlling you with his orders, starting wars wherever he wishes. Did you hear nothing my brother said the other day, or do you refuse to even think of it? At least our monarchies are peaceful!”
“Peaceful?” He laughs unkindly, glaring up at me. “Really? Is that why all those grateful people in Thurn are revolting?”
I glare back to him. “What are you implying?”
“What do you think? You have no idea what goes on there! You can’t own people, Princess. You can’t force loyalty and expect them to thank you for it. No one will take that forever. Believe me, eventually it has to end. They’re going to do something about it.”
“Then go fight for the damn Nahir!” I snap. “You’d suit their revolution.”
It takes a breath, but the fierce fire in his eyes slowly fades. He stares at me, and stares at me, then gives up and settles against the rock, arms crossed on his knees, looking more like a dejected boy than a soldier.
I think I’ve won, but strange guilt snakes inside me. Carefully, I sit down again as if too much noise might annoy him further. There’s only the sound of crickets in the thin grass. I realize he makes no sense to me. At times, he’s easy as a cat in the sun, and at other times, so boiling with hidden passion that I’m left startled and bewildered. I saw it in the hangar. I see it now. I want to peer inside his mad little Safire head and find out what’s there. But I can’t.
We sit like that, not speaking, for a long while.
Then he gets up and goes to the ledge of the rock face, dragging his boot over the edge, stretching his arms wide. The air is turning golden, the sun lowering, and he looks over his shoulder and says, “If I were you, I wouldn’t leave here either.”
He sounds apologetic. Wistful.
I want to tell him he’s right and he’s wrong, but I just nod.
When he comes to gather his things, he looks at his watch. “We should head back. Wouldn’t want to be stuck here in the dark.” He gives a cautious smile. “Wolves and all.”
Warmth returns between us, comforting.
There’s a sharp drop from where we’ve been sitting back onto the ridge. It was easy to climb in my hurry, but more precarious-looking now. Athan navigates down, then reaches up a hand.
“Thank you.” I’m glad for an excuse to touch his skin again.
“You’re welcome, Princess.”
“Ali,” I say, and he smiles.
20
ATHAN
Daylight’s almost gone by the time we’re snaking through the palace gardens, just as we did earlier, our faces tinged by sun and dirty from head to toe. Aurelia still looks like perfection—windswept and warm. She was silent for most of the hike down, distracted by quiet thoughts, and I really shouldn’t have said what I said at the top. I think she’s forgiven me, but it’s hard to tell. I suspect she’s very good at playing diplomatic. When she means to, anyway.
Cleverly, she sneaks us in through the kitchens. We’re greeted by the curious faces of servants holding crates and hoisting vegetables, and we step through the chaos, then weave down the narrow halls and up a flight of stairs. We must be in the clear.
The Prince and Havis appear at the top, and I collide right into her.
There’s a moment of awkward nothing before the Prince says, “I saw you both from the window. God knows who else did.”
Aurelia goes a bit pale. “Does Mother know?”
“I told her you were out on Ivory. She’s been busy enough that she believes the story.”
“She’d like to see you now, though,” Havis says. “Shall we go to her parlour?”
Aurelia darkens beside me, the glorious little storm that Havis brings out. I’m fairly certain she knows this man views her as an apple. “I’m showing the Lieutenant to his quarters,” she says.
It’s a nice excuse, but also unhelpful, because it puts me into the “sporting” category again.
The look on the Prince’s face suggests the same. “I’ll show him the way. And you can go with the Ambassador to see Mother as you should.”
Yes, this is definitely an ambush.
Aurelia and I look at each other, a silent exchange of “Good luck,” then climb the stairs and pick our poison. She and Havis disappear one way, the Prince hurrying me off the other. A bit of fear finally quickens inside. We’re alone and hostility radiates from him like pulsing flak. I feel very unarmed.
“You’re having a pleasant stay?” he asks, once we’re alone.
“I am.”
He grunts, either approval or annoyance, and stops. I’m forced to do the same. “Your father as well?” he asks.
Blood careens to a halt in my veins. The truth finally spoken. But I yank my mask into place and we size each other up. Time to play by his rules.
“You’ll have to ask him that,” I reply casually.
He steps close. “I’m sure my mother would love to know the truth about you.”
He thinks she doesn’t know? Then he’s in over his head. “Perhaps.”
“Why are you showing such interest in my sister?”
“You can see her pretty face plain as me. Why do you think?”
He growls, breath hot on my face. “If you touch her, there will be hell to pay.”
“Then why don’t you tell her who I am?”