Like a caged tiger, Aren tested the limits of his enclosure, never hitting the same place twice. But thus far, all his efforts had yielded was beatings from the guards.
“He’s not coming up with anything that I haven’t already thought through and dismissed,” Keris muttered under his breath. “We’ve put all our eggs in the basket of a dimwit.”
“He’s not a dimwit,” Coralyn chided, giving him a scowl. “You merely decided to dislike him at some point and refuse to see his attributes. Besides, Lara says he’ll deliver, and your sister is most definitely not a dimwit.”
“Just murderous and backstabbing.”
“She is neither of those things.” There was anger in his aunt’s voice. “I’ve heard the truth of what occurred in Ithicana from her own lips.”
“Truth from the mouth of a trained liar.”
“She’s got no reason to lie to me.”
He snorted. “I’m sure that’s what Aren said while he was thrusting away between her legs.”
“Keris, shut your goddamned mouth, or I swear, I’ll get every woman in the harem in here to hold you down while I wash it clean with soap.”
Coralyn didn’t make idle threats, so Keris crossed his arms and kept his teeth clamped shut.
“Will you hear her story, or is your intent to remain willfully deaf to anything that contests your misguided opinions?”
A dozen retorts rose to his lips, but his day would not be improved with the taste of soap, so he said, “Fine.”
The story that flowed from her was not at all what he expected. And his sister not quite the monster he’d believed.
“They’ll never forgive her,” he said once Coralyn was finished. “It doesn’t matter that it was a mistake, or that Lara didn’t intend for it to happen. Thousands of Ithicanians are dead because of her actions, and no amount of atonement will bring them back to life.”
“She knows that, and she doesn’t seek forgiveness.” Coralyn took a mouthful of tea. “But perhaps you might give her yours.”
He closed his eyes, remembering his father’s men attacking their Ithicanian escort. Remembering how the light faded from Raina’s eyes. Remembering when he’d realized that his desire to escape war had been the linchpin in starting one. Remembering how, in that moment, he’d hated Lara as much as he did their father.
All that had come to pass might not have been Lara’s intent, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t her fault. And Keris had never been of a forgiving nature. “She’s a means to a mutually beneficial end, after which we need never see each other ever again.”
“You are so cursedly stubborn,” Coralyn snapped. “There is nothing more important than family. Everything you do, every move you make, should be with a mind to protecting your family.”
His irritation rose. “I’m planning my own father’s assassination and giving the harem what it wants. Isn’t that enough for you, Coralyn?”
“If I believed it was for us, it would be enough. But I’ve heard what the people are screaming outside our walls, and it is your words coming from their lips. I fear that with the crown on your head, your pursuit of ideals that have no place in our world will be the death of everyone I hold dear.”
Unease chased aside Keris’s irritation, and he rounded on her. “Just what is it that you think I plan to do?”
“I don’t know.” His aunt touched her fingers to her temples, closing her eyes. “Promise me, Keris. Promise me that you’ll not make decisions that put this family in danger. Promise that you’ll put your family first.”
“I…” It should’ve been an easy promise, because the last thing he wanted was anything to happen to his aunts or siblings, but the words caught in his mouth. And he was spared having to say anything more as motion outside caught his eye.
Aren threw one of his guards off the side of the covered walkway, the man pulling the Ithicanian king with him. They fell, the guard taking the brunt of the fall in a way that suggested he’d never rise again.
Aren was on his feet, weaving his way through the garden and racing past screaming women, moving as quickly as the chain strung between his ankles would allow.
Alarm bells rang, the guards falling into action, but Aren kept moving, dodging around potted plants and statuary.
“He’s heading for the sewer grate,” Coralyn said with interest. “Do you suppose—”
Before she could finish, one of the guards struck Aren in the back of the head, knocking him to the ground. More guards dogpiled the king, pinning him down, and Keris watched with grim fascination as his father approached, several of the wives on his heels.
“I could have told him the sewer wouldn’t work,” Keris muttered, watching his father taunt the Ithicanian king, a smile on his face at however Aren had responded.
“He’ll come up with something,” Coralyn said. “Have more faith.”
A hard thing to do while watching Aren writhe and fight against the guards like a feral beast, his father giving one final smirk before walking away.
The guards slowly untangled themselves to reveal Aren’s form. But instead of glaring at them, Aren was staring at the tower rising above him. Aren’s eyes remained on it as the guards dragged him to his feet, but as he walked, his gaze went to the window where Keris and Coralyn stood watching. And he gave the slightest of nods.
Elation flooded Keris, driving away all the anger and uneasiness of Coralyn’s accusations, because Aren had figured out a way to escape.
“You’ll just have to trust my intentions,” he said to his aunt. “Trust that if I’m given the chance to rule, I’ll do what I think is right.”
His aunt smiled, then wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight in a way she hadn’t since he was a boy. “I know you will, dear one. Just as I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you succeed.”
61
ZARRAH
“Your arms have healed.”
Zarrah touched one forearm, the swelling from the blows she’d taken from Otis gone, the bruising faded to yellow that was easily covered by cosmetics. She was lucky he hadn’t struck her face, for that would have been a difficult injury to explain, given the story she’d provided Coralyn. “Does that mean I will regain my liberty?”
Long days of being trapped inside this room, seeing no one but Coralyn’s trusted servants, had driven her to the point of madness, and she was desperate to step outside. To breathe fresh air again.
“Yes,” Coralyn answered, taking a seat and crossing her ankles beneath the chair. “If you play your cards right, these hours will be the last you ever spend within the comfort of my hospitality.”
Zarrah’s heart skipped, then raced, and it was a struggle not to hold her breath as she waited for the woman to say more.
“Tonight,” Coralyn said, “the Ithicanians, with the harem’s assistance, will attack during a dinner Silas is hosting for the ambassadors. Their intent is to rescue their king, and I’ve arranged for them to take you with them. After you kill Silas.”
Zarrah blinked in shock, for the last thing she’d expected was a plan of this scope. “Why would they agree to help me? Ithicana and Valcotta are at odds.”