at the spray rising higher than the enormous seawall that protected the harbor from the worst of the surge. A ship killer, and yet if there’d been a way, he’d have sailed into it.
Cursing again, he twisted away and went to the sideboard, bypassing the wine and going straight for the whiskey. It hadn’t been long since word had come of Zarrah’s fate, but given the time it had taken the spy to travel from Pyrinat to Vencia, she might already have been delivered to Devil’s Island. Might already be in that hellhole filled with the worst of Valcotta’s criminals, from which no one had ever escaped. All while Keris stood in the comfort of his palace, drinking his father’s whiskey.
A fresh flood of rage surged through his veins, and in a violent motion, he hurled the glass against the wall. It exploded, amber liquid dripping down the golden paint.
“You’re really embracing your rise in status, Your Grace,” Dax commented. “Not just wearing the crown but truly emoting it.”
“Fuck off,” Keris snarled. “Didn’t I fire you?”
“Possibly.” Dax picked up the decanter and two glasses, carrying them to the desk. “You talk a lot, and truth be told, I don’t listen to half of what you say.”
A thousand retorts rose on Keris’s tongue, but given that Dax was the only person he could speak relatively freely around, alienating him was not in his best interest. Especially given he actually liked the man.
Keris sat in his father’s chair, hating how the stuffed leather molded to him as though he were meant for the seat. Taking the glass from Dax, he stared pensively at the contents, his mind sinking down and down. A typhoon of this size could rage for days, and with storm season in full swing, another could swirl in on its heels, forcing all ships to keep close to the coast. Which meant potentially weeks before he could even hope to secure the assistance of Lara and Aren, if they agreed at all.
You have a navy; go get Zarrah yourself, a voice whispered inside his head. Every day you delay is a day she remains imprisoned.
Keris drained his glass, trying to drown the voice because it was starting to grow louder than logic and reason. For one, there was every chance his men would mutiny once they learned where they were going and why. Two, even if he did manage to force them to bend to his will, he’d be playing right into Petra’s hands.
The Empress wanted war. Wanted war now, while Maridrina was weakened from the conflict with Ithicana. Except support for it among her people was flagging, which meant she wanted Keris to make the first move.
Then be clever. Pay a mercenary crew to take you.
That was more tempting, if only because it carried fewer consequences for his kingdom. Except it was also a plan that seemed doomed to fail. An untested crew whose loyalty was to coin was not The captain of his guard strolled to the door to the balcony and unlatched it, turning the handle. The what he wished to have at his back, especially given that Petra had to be anticipating that he’d come.
With his luck, he’d fall right into her trap.
Keris rubbed at his temples. He had one chance to free Zarrah, one chance to get this right, and that meant logic needed to take precedence over his emotions. No mean feat, given that there were
“You’re right, Your Grace,” Dax shouted. “Just a squall. I’ll tell the captain to grow some balls andmoments fear and guilt clamped like a vise around his chest, denying him breath. Moments that made his heart beat so rapidly the world spun and he could scarcely stand, much less think. Just as he couldn’t blink, much less sleep, because every time his lids shut, he saw Zarrah’s face. Heard her voice. I never want to see your face again. Never want to hear your voice. And if we cross paths, I will kill you.
“Why are you so eager to go to Ithicana?” Dax’s voice invaded his thoughts, and Keris lifted his head to meet the man’s gaze.
“Pardon?”
“What’s the hurry? The bridge ain’t going anywhere, and allowing the Ithicanians a bit of time to calm their tempers before you go sailing in, making demands, might not be a bad thing.” Dax swallowed the contents of his glass, giving an appreciative nod. “That’s good stuff.”
“Isn’t there a rule against drinking while you’re on duty?” Keris asked, his tone flat because he didn’t have a particularly valid explanation for his plan to go to Ithicana beyond the truth. And the truth wasn’t something he had any intention of revealing.
“Could be.” Dax scratched his unshaven chin. “But given you drink while on duty, I figured it was more of a guideline.”
There were several arguments that Keris could have voiced, not the least of which being that he was king and could do as he goddamned pleased. Instead he reached across the desk and refilled Dax’s glass. The man had almost singlehandedly organized the revolt against Keris’s father, spreading Keris’s rumors about Aren’s treatment that had driven the populace to violent protests and demands for proof the Ithicanian still lived, a critical piece in the plan that had seen Aren liberated. Dax had a relatively freely around, alienating him was not in his best interest. Especially given he actually liked strong dislike for both politicians and aristocrats, which was likely why he and Keris got along, never mind that Keris was both. “I need to mend fences with Ithicana and re-establish trade in Southwatch.
We lost half our fleet, thousands of men, and famine is once again biting at our flanks. Maridrina is weak, particularly along our southern borders.”
“But Nerastis is at a stalemate.” Dax rooted around on Keris’s desk, looking for the last report, but half the paperwork was on the floor. Giving up, he leaned back in his chair. “There are no signs that potentially weeks before he could even hope to secure the assistance of Lara and Aren, if they agreed the Valcottans intend to move against us.”
Because Petra was waiting for Keris to make the first move. Waiting for him to be the instigator so Every day you delay as not to fan the flames of rumor that she was a warmonger. A politician of the first order, because she hid the monster so very, very well. So well that only the other monsters had seen her for what she Keris drained his glass, trying to drown the voice because it was starting to grow louder than logic really was.
Monsters like you.
He ignored the whispered voice, turning his mind instead to Petra’s strategy. Zarrah had been given no trial, and while rumors she’d been sent to Devil’s Island circulated through Pyrinat, no public
, while Maridrina was weakened from the conflict with statement had been made. Certainly no mention of Zarrah’s relationship with him, and he had a theory Ithicana. Except support for it among her people was flagging, which meant she wanted Keris to make for why that was. The same reason Serin hadn’t made it public: Maridrina would have turned on Keris if they learned about Zarrah, executed him without even a thought of a trial, which would’ve been far too quick a death in Serin’s eyes. The Magpie had wanted him to suffer. Petra likely wanted that as well, but there was something she wanted more.
War.
A knock sounded, and Dax, only casual when they were alone, rose to his feet and straightened his uniform. Moving to the door, he opened it and spoke to the guards outside, a loud curse exiting his Keris rubbed at his temples. He had one chance to free Zarrah, one chance to get this right, and that lips. Slamming the door behind him, he turned to Keris. “There’s been an incident at Greenbriar.”
That was the name of the estate where the church trained its acolytes. Keris was on his feet in a flash; his blood turned to ice. “Sara?”
Dax’s face was grim. “Someone tried to kidnap her.”
“Why are you so eager to go to Ithicana?” Dax’s voice invaded his thoughts, and Keris lifted his head to meet the man’s gaze.
“Pardon?”