Stepping past the Ithicanian, Keris started in the direction of the tower, but the sound of Valcotta’s voice stopped him. Turning, he found her on her knees before the king.
“I am sorry, Your Grace.” Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “For all that you have lost. And for the part I played in that coming to pass. I pray one day to have the opportunity to atone.”
What was she talking about?
Before Valcotta could say more, one of the soldiers dragged her upright, snarling, “The only thing you should be praying for is that His Majesty chooses not to spike your head on Vencia’s gate, you Valcottan wretch!”
Valcotta spit in the man’s face, but as he lifted his hand to strike her, Keris snapped, “Have you forgotten the fate of the last man who struck my prize?”
It disgusted him to refer to her in such a manner, but fear was the only way he could protect her right now.
Blanching, the soldier muttered to Zarrah, “Move along.” But beyond them, Keris didn’t miss the way Serin’s brow furrowed with interest at the reaction. And garnering Serin’s interest was the last thing he needed.
Play your part. Be who he expects you to be. With the thought in his head, Keris continued toward the tower, but called back over his shoulder, “Make sure you clean up your mess, Magpie.” And then he stepped inside, readying himself to face his true opponent.
38
ZARRAH
Zarrah’s pulse thrummed as she was pulled away from the Ithicanian king, her stomach a twist of emotion, the first and foremost guilt.
She knew what had happened in Ithicana after the invasion. Had heard stories of the slaughter enacted by Maridrinian hands. But there was a difference between hearing stories of suffering and seeing it with her own eyes.
You are complicit, her guilt whispered as she followed Keris up the seemingly endless stairs to the top of the tower. That girl’s torture at the Magpie’s hands? Her death? The look in the king’s eyes? All burdens you must share.
Her mind drifted, remembering the moment she’d watched the Maridrinian navy sail past her fleet to attack Ithicana, struggling to understand the choice she’d made. Found herself certain, if presented with a similar circumstance, that she’d walk a far different path. And her eyes went to Keris, convinced that for better or worse, it was knowing him that had changed her.
She would atone for the mistakes of her past. Not just for the sake of her honor but for the sake of herself. And she’d do it by killing Silas Veliant.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Keris paused, waiting while one of the guards stepped inside the chamber, the other glowering at her with undisguised hatred. As had every Maridrinian who’d laid eyes upon her since her arrival.
The guard stepped back outside. “He’ll see you now, Your Highness.”
“Perfect. Would’ve been a shame to have walked up all those stairs for nothing.” The guards searched them for weapons, then Keris stepped past them and into the room, the man holding her arms shoving Zarrah after him.
The top of the tower was enclosed primarily with glass. While she was certain the view was impressive, her eyes went immediately to the man sitting behind a heavy desk, elbows resting on the arms of his chair, azure eyes twin to Keris’s. Eyes that had given her nightmares for more than a decade.
King Silas Veliant of Maridrina.
Rage, blistering hot and fierce, scorched through her, and despite her wrists being bound, it was all Zarrah could do not to lunge at him. To claw his eyes out and rip his heart from his chest. But she’d only get one chance, and she needed to make it count.
“Keris.” Silas’s voice was deep and dripped with authority. “I didn’t give you permission to leave Nerastis.” Then his gaze moved to Zarrah. “Or to bring a Valcottan into my home. Explain yourself.”
Keris shifted, rolling his shoulders, and Zarrah sensed his fear. “Apologies for the slight, Your Grace, but keeping her in Nerastis while I waited for a message to reach you, and for you to reply in kind, risked the Valcottans attacking in an effort to retrieve her.”
“One of the many reasons we don’t bother with prisoners.” The King steepled his fingers. “I believe the current practice is to dismember them and catapult the pieces back over the Anriot, though I confess it’s been some time since I visited the city.”
“Yes, well, I deemed that shortsighted.”
“Shortsighted?” The King’s eyes narrowed.
“As I believe you’ve been made aware, this is General Zarrah Anaphora. The Empress’s niece, captured on our side of the Anriot.”
“General Zarrah Anaphora.” The King laughed, as though her holding the military title was the epitome of ridiculousness. She clenched her teeth because the alternative was to bare them, and it was better that he believed her cowed. Better that he believed her a helpless woman right up to the moment she slit his throat.
Silas rose to his feet, circling the desk. Then he waved a hand at the guards who’d followed them in, dismissing them. Only when the door shut behind them did he add, “Caught by you, Keris?”
“Hardly. That would require me lowering myself to patrol, which you know I have no tolerance for. Otis caught her trying to cross back over the Anriot.”
“Makes one wonder what she was doing on our side in the first place. Do you know?”
Keris shook his head, and Zarrah couldn’t help but imagine how his father would react if he knew the truth. “She refuses to say.”
“Perhaps we might let Serin speak to her.”
It was impossible to hide the flash of fear that lanced through her, and Silas smiled. Reaching out, he caught her by the chin, lifting her face to regard her thoughtfully. Zarrah cringed from his foul breath, the feel of his touch making her nauseous. Yet it was well worth it, because he was now within reach. And if he exposed his back to her, she might get the chance to snap his neck.
“I’d rather avoid Serin’s involvement,” Keris said. “If what’s going on in the gardens is any indication, all we’d have when he was through with her is information of dubious value and another corpse to add to the décor.”
“The walls, I’m afraid, are reserved for Ithicanians and Aren’s viewing pleasure. I wouldn’t want him to think I hang just anyone up to rot in my garden.”
Keris flinched, swiftly adding, “Why not just kill him?” to cover the reaction.
The king dropped his fingers from Zarrah’s chin and shook his head. “That’s not your concern. Obviously you have a reason for bringing this girl here. Speak your mind.”
Zarrah forced herself to breathe, lest she betray her own trepidation over what Keris intended to say.
“The Valcottans have several of our people prisoner in Pyrinat. We could offer her in exchange for their release, but I propose something more… ambitious.”
Zarrah tensed, her guts in ropes.