Silas’s face darkened, and he leaned across the table. “Lara is your mistake, Serin. You may have made her a weapon, but you failed to instill in her a true sense of loyalty, which allowed her to be swayed in a way that Keris never will be. For all his failings, for all his faults, Keris is loyal to his family and to Maridrina. And if you so much as—”
A sharp knock at the door caused him to break off, and Zarrah’s heart sped with the certainty her escape had been discovered. That she’d lost her chance.
“Come.”
The door swung open, but instead of a guard stepping inside to bring warning, a young man entered.
Keris’s brother, Otis.
He bowed low. “You summoned me, Your Grace?”
The king cast a sour glare in Serin’s direction, suggesting that it had been the spymaster who’d done the summoning, but then he rose and embraced Otis. “It warms my heart to see you, my son. How fares Nerastis?”
“Quiet, Your Grace, but—”
The bedroom door opened, and Lestara stepped out. “I would take my leave, Your Majesty,” she said, bobbing a curtsey.
“I told you to stay where I left you, woman,” Silas snapped, rising to his feet. “Get back in that room!”
Except it wasn’t Silas’s reaction to Lestara that drew Zarrah’s eye, but Otis’s.
The color drained from his face, and he stared at Lestara as though she were a ghost. Serin noticed the reaction, too, his brow furrowing as his eyes skipped between Lestara and the prince.
Silas pushed Lestara back into the bedroom, following her in even as he berated her carelessness. But instead of listening to his father’s tirade, Otis strode to the window.
Adrenaline pumping through her veins, Zarrah pressed herself against the wall, holding the corner of the curtain with her fingers to keep the wind from revealing her as Otis looked out.
“Serin,” he said, “Who sleeps in that room there? The one in the shadows.”
Zarrah held her breath as Serin approached, joining the prince at the window. “Which one, Highness?”
“There. You can’t see it in the darkness, but there is a window.”
The Magpie was silent, and her mind raced, wondering which window the prince was pointing at. Wondering why the sight of Lestara had provoked this line of questions.
“That room is where Zarrah Anaphora is kept, Highness, as it is the one with the bars. It is quite secure, if that is your concern. For all her faults, Coralyn shows every caution when it comes to the harem’s safety.”
“So it’s not Lestara’s room?” Otis’s voice was stilted. Breathy, and Zarrah’s mind raced as she tried to puzzle out what he was thinking.
Serin huffed out an amused breath. “Certainly not, Highness. Lestara is favored and has rooms next to Coralyn’s. There.” He hesitated, then said, “Why do you ask?”
Silence.
“The Valcottans killed my Tasha.” Otis’s voice was barely audible. “Sank the ship she was on. There were no survivors.”
Zarrah’s chest tightened, because it was probably the truth. Her aunt’s fleet sank Maridrinian vessels constantly. Zarrah had personally ordered the sinking of several, though they’d all been naval vessels.
“A tragedy that should never have occurred, Your Highness. She was with child, no? Traveling on a naval vessel to visit you in Nerastis?”
Serin’s voice dripped with sympathy, but Zarrah’s instincts jangled with the certainty that if she could see his face, it would be wearing a smile.
“Yes.” Otis’s voice was strangled. “She’d intended to surprise me. If I’d known, I’d never have allowed her to take the risk.”
Serin made a soothing noise that made Zarrah’s skin crawl, for no one could take comfort from such a monster.
“Yet instead of strangling Zarrah Anaphora like she deserves, my father sees her treated like a princess. Offers to return her, unscathed, in exchange for trade terms that will never hold.”
“It’s Keris’s plan, but your father seems inclined to indulge him.” Serin sighed. “I can’t fathom how terrible that must feel, Your Highness. The Anaphora woman deserves to have her head on a stake, yet for the sake of trade negotiations, she sleeps peacefully in your family home.”
Otis’s breath was ragged, the scent of sweat rising from him thick. Zarrah’s own heart beat a frantic rhythm. Because while she was not certain why the sight of Lestara had triggered him, she could see the direction Serin was pushing Otis. To take matters into his own hands and kill her.
Serin cleared his throat. “I… I hesitate to bring this fell information to light, but I do believe there is something you should know.”
“What information?”
Beads of sweat rolled down Zarrah’s back as she waited for Serin to reveal the information that would’ve sealed her fate if she’d not already intended to die tonight. Because she knew what the spymaster was about to say.
“We’ve no way to confirm the truth of it, but the rumor is that Zarrah ordered Tasha’s ship sunk. And logic tells us that it could only have been her or Bermin, which means it was an Anaphora who saw your wife dead.”
A ragged sob tore from Otis’s lips, and Zarrah’s eyes burned with guilt. Serin’s words were no lie. There was every likelihood it had been her who’d given the order, which meant she was responsible for an innocent woman’s death. An unborn child’s death. Echoes of the love letter she’d stolen rippled through her mind, the fierce declarations of love from a woman who had deserved a better fate.
“She deserves to die.”
The snarled words tore Zarrah back to the moment, because there was no chance that Otis wouldn’t leave this tower with murder in his heart. He’d likely get his wish for her death, although not the manner he hoped for.
“Zarrah does deserve death, Your Highness. But your father has given specific orders that she is not to be harmed until Keris has the opportunity to see his plans through.”
“Not this time. He’s not getting his way in this.” Otis whirled away from the window, crossing the floor with rapid strides to exit the room, and Serin chuckled softly before he twitched the curtains shut.
Zarrah forced herself to breathe, peering around the edge of the curtain to see that Serin had resumed his position on the sofa. There was no chance of her getting past him to the bedroom without him raising an alarm, and if she didn’t catch Silas unprepared, she’d be unlikely to overcome him before the guards arrived.
Shit.
Sounds of Silas shouting at Lestara filling her ears, Zarrah leaned sideways and looked out the window. Her eyes skipped between the base of the tower and the covered walkway that connected the tower to the harem’s building.
Would Otis go now?
Would he burst into the harem’s quarters, and into her room, no matter the consequences?
She knew he would. Had heard it in Otis’s voice that he was past logic. Past reason. There was only anger and the desire for vengeance.
The moment she was discovered missing from her room, the alarm bells would ring, and the guards would be in here.
Quit yelling at Lestara and get back in this room, she willed Silas even as she kept her eyes on the paths to the harem’s quarters. She’d give herself until she saw Otis make his move, then she’d have no choice but to make her own.
But Otis never appeared.