“What’s done cannot be undone,” Lara said, as though having heard Zarrah’s thoughts. “Help me get him inside before he bleeds to death. Keris, stand up.”
Keris said nothing in retort, no quip or rejoinder, and that, more than the shake in his body, filled Zarrah with fear as she slipped under his arm, supporting his weight. The last of the lanterns were extinguished, plunging the vessel into darkness, but above, the moon shone bright, illuminating the ships pursuing them.
She prayed the Ithicanians would live up to their reputation on the high seas, for the navy would not give up easily.
EACH BREATH HE drew in took more effort than the last, the roar of blood in his ears drowning out the shouts of the Ithicanians. But not the feel of Zarrah against him as she dragged him toward the captain’s quarters.
“Why did you leave the rebels?” The expenditure of breath it took to ask left him so lightheaded that stars swam in his eyes.
“Because you—” She broke off, giving her head a sharp shake. “They keep calling me the rightful empress, and you said you know why. I need you to tell me.”
Lara gave a snort of disgust, but Keris barely heard it over the loud ringing in his ears. When he’d seen Zarrah coming after him, part of him had hoped … Keris shoved away the half-completed thought, hiding it beneath forced flippancy as he said, “You needn’t have expended the effort. Daria knows the truth, as does the commander.”
“They wouldn’t tell me, and I …” Zarrah averted her eyes. “I’m here, so it might as well come from you.”
“Yes, let’s interrogate the dying man for information an entire rebellion knows,” Lara snarled.
Keris ignored her. “Let’s get to it,” he said between clenched teeth. “Then you can depart at your earliest convenience.”
“Now is not the time!” Lara kicked in the door of the captain’s chambers. “I need to get the arrow out and stop the bleeding, or you will die. So shut up.”
There was an edge of panic in his sister’s voice that told him she wasn’t exaggerating, and fear coursed through him. Fear, but also anger. He’d been ready to die to save Zarrah. Ready to die to right a wrong. Hell, he’d been ready to die to save his idiot brother-in-law. But dying now would accomplish nothing and leave so much undone. “She needs to know.”
“Later.”
“What if I die?”
“Then I’ll tell her. Zarrah, help him down.”
Zarrah eased him lower, but as she did, the ship switched course, the deck sharply canting the opposite direction. Pain spidered through him, and the world went dark for a heartbeat. When Keris’s vision returned, he was on his side, but what he needed to say was still with him. “Before he died, Serin told me information so that I’d understand why Petra would trust him. The history of their relationship.”
“Keris, later,” Lara hissed. “Save your strength.”
There might not be a later. And he needed to be certain that Zarrah understood that she had a right to the throne. That her legacy had been stolen from her. That she was no one’s pawn. “It needs to be now.”
“Keris—”
“You have no authority over him, Your Grace,” Zarrah said softly. “Nor over me, so be silent.”
Lara lunged to her feet, her anger palpable. “I’ll get my supplies. Try not to talk yourself to death.”
He watched his sister stride to the rear of the captain’s cabin and pull the thick drapes before lighting both lamp and brazier. Boots hammered across the deck outside the door, Aren’s shouted orders and others calling warnings making it hard for Keris to focus. The sentences he composed slipping away before he had a chance to voice them. “Before Serin died, he referred to your mother as the true and rightful heir. The Ithicanians remember a rumor that your grandfather had come to desire peace between Maridrina and Valcotta in his later years, and that he wished for your mother to take the throne after his death, not Petra. A rumor that went abruptly silent.”
“The rebels called her the Usurper,” Zarrah whispered, and he nodded.
“The rebels confirmed it.” He didn’t have the breath to say more. Except that the important part was yet to come. The part that he knew would change everything for her.
The ship rolled, tacking another direction, and outside, Aren bellowed, “We’ll lose them between the islands!”
“We don’t know these waters well enough to sail them in the dark!” Jor shouted back. “You’re going to run us up on the rocks!”
Keris squeezed his eyes shut, each bounce over the waves sending a stab of pain through his body.
“Keris?”
The alarm in Zarrah’s voice snapped his eyelids open, her dark gaze illuminated by the lamp. The most beautiful eyes in the world. “I’m fine.” He was not fine. “It was Petra who told Serin’s spies that your mother would be at a villa near the border without a bodyguard. What came next is something you know better than anyone.”
Silence.
It stretched on and on, and it was not the reaction he’d anticipated from her. Was not the wrath and promises of vengeance that he’d expected to come flowing forth from her lips. Not able to stand it, he said, “My father might have wielded the blade, but it was Petra who assassinated your mother. Her own sister, and rightful Empress of Valcotta. As her named heir, you became the rightful empress.”
Zarrah didn’t respond.
coursed through him. Fear, but also anger. He’d been ready to die to save Zarrah. Ready to die to right
“You’ve said your piece.” Lara knelt next to him, a bag in her hands. “I need to remove the arrow.”
It had to come out; Keris knew that. Just as he also knew that it might be the only thing keeping him alive, and once removed, the rest of his life would spill out onto the floor. He couldn’t let that happen without certainty that she’d fight for her crown. “Zarrah?”
She didn’t so much as blink.
God help him, what if what she’d endured on that island had been too much? What if some critical part of her had been at the breaking point, and instead of giving her strength in anger, he’d broken her?
opposite direction. Pain spidered through him, and the world went dark for a heartbeat. When Keris’s “Zar—”
Without warning, Lara snapped off the arrowhead and jerked the shaft out of him.
Keris bit down on a scream, nails digging into his palms, but his eyes didn’t move from Zarrah’s.
“Promise me you won’t let her get away with it,” he pleaded, jerking his head from Lara’s grasp as she tried to shove a piece of leather between his teeth. “Promise me that you’ll fight for your crown.”
“Keris, you’re bleeding to death!” Lara shouted, the ship rolling sideways, everything on the tables falling to the deck with a crash. “I have to do this now!”
He could smell the smoke of the brazier, see the crimson glow of heated steel. The thought of the pain to come should have terrified him, but it was the thought that he’d pass out and never wake that fueled his fear because he needed to know that she’d keep fighting. “Zarrah!”
Not a blink. Like her body was there, but not her mind. Desperate, he shouted, “Valcotta!”
Her eyes snapped into focus.
Keris tangled his fingers in her dark curls, pulling her close. “Your mother wanted peace, and Petra killed her for it. Honor her by taking back the crown and liberating Valcotta.”
“Fuck honor,” she whispered. “I want blood.”
“Zarrah,” Lara snarled, “unless it’s his blood you want, hold him down.”
desire peace between Maridrina and Valcotta in his later years, and that he wished for your mother to Zarrah didn’t move, and Keris swore he felt his heart stutter as it began to fail. Then she was straddling him, fingers digging into his biceps as she threw her weight against him. “Close your eyes.”
“I’d rather your face be the last thing I see.”
Lara made a noise of disgust. “I should let you bite off your tongue and spare the world your nonsense.” She shoved the leather strap between his teeth. “You ready?”
Fire burned in Zarrah’s eyes, and he prayed to God and fate and the stars that it would not burn her alive.
Lara gave no warning.