You don’t know her! She’s a stranger! She’s nothing to you!
use guilt and obligation to motivate us to do your dirty work, never mind that your actions were nearly Except every time he blinked, he saw her as a child running through the harem gardens. Chasing butterflies and picking flowers when she thought their mother wasn’t looking. A tiny blond girl who sat at his elbow while he read and who’d sneaked into his room at night when she’d been scared by shadows. His sister, who’d screamed for their mother when the soldiers had taken her away.
Who’d screamed for him.
He owned it every minute of every hour of every day. “So you would leave her to rot to spite me?”
“I—” He bit down on his tongue, silencing explanations. Justifications. “I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t enough, not after what he’d done, so he added, “You deserved better from me.”
No one spoke, the only sound the wind and the rain and the roar of his own pulse.
Her eyes searched his, then, slowly, Lara lowered her knife. “I already caused one war,” she said.
“I’ll not start another.”
Without another word, she turned and walked away, her stride marked with a limp that hadn’t been there before. Ahnna glanced at her brother, then followed Lara into the city.
Aren stood unmoving, arms crossed and expression unreadable. Close enough to have heard the entire exchange. To have intervened. Yet he’d kept silent throughout. Keris met his stare, uncertain what to expect.
The King of Ithicana said nothing.
The rain intensified, falling in great sheets, and Keris expected his ship would soon have to retreat to calmer waters, if it hadn’t already. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t returning to Vencia.
Finally, Aren cleared his throat. “You look like you need a drink.”
He needed a whole goddamned bottle. “I need an answer, Aren. Because if it’s a no—”
“If it’s a no, you’re fucked,” Aren interrupted. “Valcotta executes traitors, but instead of taking off Zarrah’s head, Petra put her on an island as bait for a trap. She wants war with Maridrina. Wants to defeat you. With most of your fleet in ruins on the bottom of the Tempest Seas and a third of your army in the bellies of Ithicana’s sharks, if you go head-to-head with her, Maridrina will lose. I know you know this. But I also know you’ll do it anyway.” Aren gave an exasperated shake of his head.
“Defeating Maridrina won’t be the end of Petra’s ambition, so it won’t be long until she shows up at Southwatch with all the information I provided Zarrah’s sailors about how to get in.”
Keris’s hands balled into fists, his pulse thrumming with anticipation. Yes or no, he wanted to scream. Give me an answer.
“There are reasons for and against helping you. Reasons that a good king would think long and hard about.” Aren exhaled a long breath. “But what it comes down to is that Petra Anaphora once tried to blackmail me into killing my wife, and I think it’s long past time she paid for the offense.”
Relief flooded Keris’s veins, nearly driving him to his knees. “What makes you a shitty king also makes you a good man.”
The King of Ithicana lifted one shoulder in a shrug, gesturing for Keris to follow him up the path.
“I’m not a good man, Keris. And if you insult Lara again, you’ll find out just how bad I can be.”
You don’t know her! She’s a stranger! She’s nothing to you!
Except every time he blinked, he saw her as a child running through the harem gardens. Chasing butterflies and picking flowers when she thought their mother wasn’t looking. A tiny blond girl who sat at his elbow while he read and who’d sneaked into his room at night when she’d been scared by shadows. His sister, who’d screamed for their mother when the soldiers had taken her away.
Who’d screamed for him.
“I—” He bit down on his tongue, silencing explanations. Justifications. “I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t enough, not after what he’d done, so he added, “You deserved better from me.”
No one spoke, the only sound the wind and the rain and the roar of his own pulse.
Her eyes searched his, then, slowly, Lara lowered her knife. “I already caused one war,” she said.
“I’ll not start another.”
Without another word, she turned and walked away, her stride marked with a limp that hadn’t been there before. Ahnna glanced at her brother, then followed Lara into the city.
Aren stood unmoving, arms crossed and expression unreadable. Close enough to have heard the entire exchange. To have intervened. Yet he’d kept silent throughout. Keris met his stare, uncertain what to expect.
The King of Ithicana said nothing.
The rain intensified, falling in great sheets, and Keris expected his ship would soon have to retreat to calmer waters, if it hadn’t already. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t returning to Vencia.
Finally, Aren cleared his throat. “You look like you need a drink.”
He needed a whole goddamned bottle. “I need an answer, Aren. Because if it’s a no—”
“If it’s a no, you’re fucked,” Aren interrupted. “Valcotta executes traitors, but instead of taking off Zarrah’s head, Petra put her on an island as bait for a trap. She wants war with Maridrina. Wants to defeat you. With most of your fleet in ruins on the bottom of the Tempest Seas and a third of your army in the bellies of Ithicana’s sharks, if you go head-to-head with her, Maridrina will lose. I know you know this. But I also know you’ll do it anyway.” Aren gave an exasperated shake of his head.
“Defeating Maridrina won’t be the end of Petra’s ambition, so it won’t be long until she shows up at Southwatch with all the information I provided Zarrah’s sailors about how to get in.”
Keris’s hands balled into fists, his pulse thrumming with anticipation. Yes or no, he wanted to scream. Give me an answer.
“There are reasons for and against helping you. Reasons that a good king would think long and hard about.” Aren exhaled a long breath. “But what it comes down to is that Petra Anaphora once tried to blackmail me into killing my wife, and I think it’s long past time she paid for the offense.”
Relief flooded Keris’s veins, nearly driving him to his knees. “What makes you a shitty king also makes you a good man.”
The King of Ithicana lifted one shoulder in a shrug, gesturing for Keris to follow him up the path.
“I’m not a good man, Keris. And if you insult Lara again, you’ll find out just how bad I can be.”
KIAN GRABBED HER arm. “Hurry! We don’t have much time!”
Instinct took over, and Zarrah jerked out of his grip, howling, “Attack!”
His eyes widened. “Mad fool!” Then he lunged at her.
Zarrah scrabbled backward. Lashing out with her heels, she caught him in the chest. Kian stumbled sideways, and she rolled, on her feet in a flash with her fists raised. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“It will be the death of you when they learn your identity,” he snarled. “Don’t you know what they are?”
Her heart lurched. How did he know her identity? Had one of the guards told him?
“Kill him!” Daria shouted, and Zarrah glanced over her shoulder to see her and Saam nearly upon them, more rebels on their heels.
Spears flew, forcing Kian to dive to the ground to avoid being impaled. “Retreat!” he shouted as his eyes locked on Zarrah. “Get out while you can! We’ll protect you!”
Before she could answer, he spun on his heel and joined his men racing up the slope. Seconds later, rebels who’d been away from the camp appeared, summoned by the sounds of alarm.
“Pursue?” Saam demanded, but Daria only shook her head. “No. I’ll not go rushing into one of Kian’s traps.” Her eyes fixed on the body of her comrade, spear still embedded in the woman’s chest.
“See how many we lost; then call everyone in and double the guard.”
Saam moved out to meet the incoming warriors, and Daria rounded on Zarrah. “Told you he
wouldn’t give you up without a fight, which is why you aren’t to go off alone.”