“Bold of Keris to get so close to Aren, given that the man knows of his involvement in the invasion,” he said. “Idiot is going to get himself killed.”
Involvement? Zarrah stilled herself, refusing to show any reaction. This was no idle conversation. Serin had a purpose. Yet she couldn’t help but say, “I hadn’t realized Ithicana’s invasion was a family affair.”
“Oh, yes.” Serin smiled at the corpses. “The Ithicanians never suspected the ruse because His Highness’s desire to study in Harendell was long known to their spies.”
She stood in silence as the spymaster detailed what had come to pass inside the bridge. How Keris had led a group of elite warriors, then, using duplicity and clever timing, had slaughtered his Ithicanian guards.
“Keris’s force cracked open Midwatch Island itself,” Serin continued. “Well worthy of accolades if not for the fact he was but a small piece in Lara’s grand scheme, so hardly anyone is aware Keris was even involved.”
Zarrah certainly hadn’t known he was there. Every bit of intelligence Valcottan spies had given her spoke only of Lara.
“I believe he hoped it would win his father’s favor, but His Grace was unimpressed. As he has been likewise unimpressed with Keris’s attempts to use you to negotiate. The king favors sons with steel in their spines, fighting men who won’t hesitate to take the kill.”
This was a lie. Zarrah didn’t believe for a heartbeat that Keris had led a critical piece of the invasion. For one, he would want nothing to do with it, and two, Silas would never trust him with something of that magnitude. “Is there a point to all this prattle? I care little of the grasping of a Maridrinian princeling.”
“My pardon, of course. I was merely trying to illuminate His Highness’s motivations for killing Yrina Kitan.”
Yrina? Zarrah swayed on her feet, breath driven from her chest. Yrina wasn’t here; she was in Nerastis. She couldn’t be dead. “Pardon?”
Serin pursed his lips. “I see Keris has not informed you of the casualty. The coward likely fears your reaction.”
The world around her seemed to pulse, a sour taste filling her mouth. “I… How?”
“The captain was captured attempting to infiltrate His Majesty’s inner sanctum, presumably to reach you. She killed four trusted soldiers, necessitating her execution, which Keris volunteered to carry out. Silas was most impressed with his conduct—I’ve not heard the end of it.”
It couldn’t be true.
Yrina couldn’t be dead.
Keris couldn’t be the one who’d killed her.
Zarrah gasped in breath after breath of air, but it didn’t feel like any of it reached her lungs. “When?”
“The day after you arrived, I believe.”
The day he’d started avoiding her at every turn. And she, like a fool, had thought it was because he’d grown tired of her.
Unless Serin was lying.
Unless this was a scheme.
“You seem to doubt my words,” Serin said. “By all means, ask the prince for the truth. You’ve placed your life in his hands, so his word, at least, should be something you can trust. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a gift I must present to Aren.” He motioned at her guards. “You two may be required momentarily. Come with me.”
Serin strode out from behind the topiary toward Aren and Keris, but Zarrah barely registered the exchange between the men, seeing only red. Hearing nothing beyond the silent scream of grief ricocheting around in her head, because Yrina was dead.
Her comrade, her confidant, her friend was dead.
Dead, because Zarrah had chosen to allow Keris to bring her into this palace. Dead, because she wanted a chance at vengeance instead of escaping. Dead, because Zarrah had been so blinded in her pursuit of Silas Veliant’s death that she’d failed to realize her sworn bodyguard and closest friend would defy every order and come after her.
The pain of it swelled like a rising tide, threatening to overwhelm her, to drown her, and then her eyes fixed on Keris, who was on his feet. Who was walking toward the doors of the tower.
He’d killed her. Had murdered Yrina to impress his father and then avoided Zarrah like a coward rather than owning up to his actions.
Zarrah’s focus narrowed, her eyes moving to her guards, who’d followed Serin, their necessity made apparent when more of Serin’s men dragged another Ithicanian corpse into the gardens, Aren having attacked them many times before. But then Serin lifted a hand and motioned to the two men guarding the doors to the tower. They abandoned their posts, moving cautiously into position, their focus entirely on the Ithicanian king.
Zarrah didn’t hesitate.
Slipping inside the building, she took the stairs two at a time, counting the levels until she reached the one that held Keris’s room. Swinging open the door, she silently closed it behind her, eyes fixed on Keris’s back, where he stood looking out the window. “Give me one reason not to kill you where you stand.”
Keris whirled around, gaping in shock. “Valcotta? What are you doing in here? Why…”
“Did you do it?” she demanded, watching the color drain from his face. “Did you kill Yrina?”
The silence that followed made her want to vomit, because part of her had hoped… had prayed that Serin was lying.
“I’m sorry. Let me explain what—”
She wasn’t interested in explanations.
In a heartbeat, Zarrah was across the room, the silk of her skirt ripping as she lifted her leg and twisted, his protests a drone in her ears. Her foot connected with his head, and he fell sideways, stunned. “Valcotta, just listen to me!”
“I’m going to kill you, you lying Veliant prick!” She threw herself at him, fists striking hard and fast, hearing his grunt of pain as she connected. “How could you?”
“I’m sorry!” He blocked her next blow. “I didn’t have a choice!”
“There’s always a choice,” she snarled, striking him below the ribs, drawing a gasp from him. “You chose to invade Ithicana. You chose to kill Yrina. You’re the same as everyone in your bloodthirsty family, but at least the rest of them don’t pretend to be anything different!”
“Ithicana was no choice!” He twisted, sending them both rolling into a stack of books. “And neither was Yrina!”
“You’re a liar! You did it to impress your father! You did it because you want to be king!” She got behind him, arm around his throat. “And I’m going to kill you for it. Then your father. And then the rest of your twisted family.”
And she squeezed.
Keris clawed at her arms, trying to pull them loose, but Zarrah gritted her teeth and held on, her skill against his strength.
Tears rolled down her cheeks because she’d been so certain he was different. So certain that he truly wanted peace.
So certain that she could trust him.
But it had all been lies.
Fury gave her strength, and Zarrah pulled tighter as his fingers dug into her skin. There was no explanation. There was nothing he could say that would make this right.