Allyssa wanted to see the queen bleed, to wipe that smug expression off her hateful face. Her fingers twitched. Like every other soldier present, a sword was strapped to her belt. All she had to do was unsheathe the weapon and strike the queen down. Only ten feet separated them. But if she killed Jana, she would be dead within seconds. Soma would still be alive, and Kerdan might not be able to stop the war. She had to play this right. Her people deserved that much from her. She sucked in her pride and remained against that bloody wall.
“The kingdom is in mourning. Now is the perfect time to strike,” the king said, shaking his fist in the air. “I leave in two days to lead my army into Emperion where I will establish control. We will be the mightiest and most powerful kingdom on the mainland!”
Everyone in the room, except the motionless soldiers along the perimeter, cheered. Kerdan saluted his father, and the queen raised her goblet in approval.
“The next time we celebrate,” the king pounded on the table, rattling the cups, “will be with the deaths of the empress and emperor. I will see my beautiful wife sitting on Emperion’s golden throne. I will not stop until she is ruling over what is rightly hers.” He grabbed his goblet, lifting it into the air. “To victory!”
Everyone shouted, “To victory!” while stomping on the floor, the sound reverberating through the room. No wonder Kerdan was so eager to murder the royal family—they were almost out of time.
A chill swept through Allyssa. She felt someone watching her. An elderly woman elegantly dressed in a purple gown with a large amethyst necklace was staring at her with furrowed eyebrows. There was something familiar about the lady. She sat close to the royal family, next to Odar, so she had to be of some importance. But where had she seen her before?
Allyssa gasped. Back home in her castle was a portrait of the former Empress Eliza, the woman who Rema had overthrown almost two decades ago. Jana’s mother. The lady in purple was an older version of the painting, still beautiful and with sharp, cunning eyes.
Eliza’s attention drifted to Odar at her side. He raised his goblet in the air, kissed Shelene’s cheek, and chanted along with everyone else. If Allyssa didn’t know any better, she might think he loved Shelene and was pleased with the announcement. However, she noticed how rigid he sat, his balled fist on his thigh, his foot tapping on the ground. He radiated fury. Well, that made two of them.
***
Allyssa paced in Kerdan’s bedchamber. How could a ruler toss away thousands of lives just to placate someone he loved? What a senseless, petty, arrogant prick. King Drenton didn’t deserve to reign over Russek. She glanced at Kerdan, who was sitting on the couch and carefully watching her. Too bad she couldn’t include the king in her assassination plans. His death would be well deserved.
Bloody hell. She had been cooped up far too long in this place. Turning, she punched the wall, hoping to release some pent-up energy and aggression, but instead, her knuckles split open from the impact. She cried out in pain.
“I told you Prince Odar and Princess Shelene are fairly cozy with one another,” he commented.
“It’s an act.” She cradled her hand, wincing.
“Will you please sit down? You’re going to wear a hole in the floor.”
She plopped on the chair across from him. “Your plan better work.”
He leaned forward. “It will. However, I think we need to discuss Prince Odar. I don’t trust him.”
She groaned and rolled her eyes. Not this again.
“He’s already deceived you once.”
“Instead of discussing Odar, we should be talking about your sadistic father. If there’s one person I don’t trust, it’s him.”
“My father?” He had the gall to look shocked.
She nodded, wiping the blood from her knuckles on her tunic.
“I told you, he’s besotted with Jana. Once she’s gone, he’ll be himself again.”
An awful lot rode on the hope King Drenton would return to normal and stop the war. But what if Kerdan was wrong?
He sighed. “I don’t trust Odar, and you don’t trust my father.”
“I’ve already vouched for Odar,” she snapped.
“And I for my father.”
“Then we have nothing to discuss.”
He leaned back, staring up at the ceiling, mumbling something unintelligible.
“I don’t understand you,” she admitted. He eyed her, but didn’t say anything. “For all your grumbling about not trusting Odar because he pretended to be someone he wasn’t, you do the same thing. Only, I don’t know your reasoning.” Her hand was still bleeding. She’d hit the wall harder than intended.
He tossed her a handkerchief. “I don’t pretend to be another person.”
“No. But you show one face to your kingdom, another one to your family, one to your soldiers, and one to me. Sometimes, I wonder how you keep it straight.” And often, she wondered if he was a genius or a madman, but she kept that bit to herself.
He sat there, observing her, no emotion on his face. She refused to speak again until he explained himself. He abruptly stood. “No one has ever accused me of that before.”
She snorted. Of course no one would notice—he never allowed anyone to see more than one side of him. Not even his own father. So why had he allowed her to? Maybe he didn’t think she would make it out of this alive after all.
“Why do you think I do it?” he asked, standing before her.
She had many theories. “You show people what they expect to see.” Was that what he did with her? She leaned back in the chair, waiting for him to continue.
He crouched before her so they were eye level. “I have been born into great privilege,” he said, his voice low, his eyes intense. “The kingdom expects a fierce ruler. My father has a mighty army under his command. He wants a strong son, and captain, to help him. An evil woman has wormed her way into Russek, infecting this place with her very presence. Someone must destroy her.” He placed his hands on the arms of the chair, leaning closer to her. “I am this way because that is who my kingdom needs me to be.”
“What about a kind and just king?” She did not believe Russek needed someone with an iron fist ruling.
“There will be a time and place for that, but not now. A soft ruler will be trampled on once Jana is gone. I have to be strong so one of the rival families doesn’t attempt to overthrow my father using the death of the queen as an excuse.”
Allyssa hadn’t considered the possibility of a coup. “Why would they do that?” Especially since the line was entailed from Drenton to Kerdan.
“One reason—power. Think about what Russek is doing to Emperion. It is the same thing.”
“A noble family would use the king’s mourning to their advantage and overthrow him?” Were all noble families so ambitious?
“Yes. And most noble families control a portion of the army.”
No wonder Darmik chose his own captains and officers, not tying anything to the noble families. Although, they did have various regions within Emperion and dukes controlled each one. Had Emperion ever faced any sort of uprising in the past?
Kerdan stood. “Now, I have a question for you.”
Her hand had stopped bleeding, so she set the handkerchief aside, curious to hear what he had to say.
“You planned to marry who you thought was Prince Odar, even though you did not love him?”
She nodded, not sure where he was going with this. People of royal blood had arranged marriages all the time.