Priscilla didn’t look away. “You have no idea what it means to be queen, Ryiah. I have to consider our peace before everything else. We don’t need the greedy Pythians picking off our remains now that Borea and Caltoth have turned their backs.” Her arms folded across her chest. “We need to give Horrace whatever it takes to bridge that alliance. His one request, which is far better than the slaughter of our army and all those who unwittingly partook in the wrong side, mind you, is the life of the king that took his kingdom to war.”
“But Darren was b-barely even king!” My voice cracked and it hurt to speak. “Priscilla, please—”
“Ryiah.” The future queen placed her hand on my shoulder, and I flinched.
“I know we haven’t been the best of friends.” Her tone was somber. “You could even say we were enemies… But despite everything we were, everything we are, I would help you if I could. I swear it.”
“Then do something!” Alex lunged forward, taking half of me with him. “Sentence Darren to exile. It doesn’t have to be execution!”
Priscilla drew a sharp intake of breath. “You think I wouldn’t consider that if I could? Darren has the blood of the old family running through his veins. So long as he breathes, he is a threat to King Horrace. Even if Darren never contested my rule, and I don’t believe after what Ryiah told me he would, his children’s children could come back and try to reclaim it. One man’s life for a lifetime of peace is a reasonable price. I can’t reject an alliance to uncertainty, no matter how I wish I could.”
“So that is your stance?” I was shaking so hard my teeth gnashed together. “You are just going to let an innocent man die? You two were friends. You were willing to marry him—”
Her eyes held my own. “Darren’s not innocent, Ryiah. He might regret his crimes, but he still committed them.”
“Only because of his brother!” My heart slammed my ribs, again and again. “You know that!”
The girl looked to my brother and Ella. “I know she’ll want to see him. You can take Ryiah, but the guards will have to remain for the visit.”
“I didn’t give my life just to watch him die again!”
“I’m sorry,” Priscilla’s sharp apology cut through my screams, “but that is the best I can do.” Somewhere behind us there was the rustle of chainmail as her guard approached. “Alex, Ella, please escort her out. My men will send word to the dungeon that you are expected.”
“Priscilla!”
“So long as she doesn’t cause a disturbance or any sort of attempt on his guards, Ryiah will be welcome at all hours leading up to his execution.”
“You are no better than Blayne if you do this!”
She finally looked at me. “I am, but you’ve put me in an impossible position.”
“But… it’s Darren.” Tears slipped down my face.
“I know. And for that, I am sorry, Ryiah. I truly am.”
*
When we entered the prison’s hall, there were ten scowling mage guards awaiting our arrival—all of them from our former mission in Caltoth.
The rebels were definitely displeased to see me again.
“Weapons!” barked the one nearest. “All of ‘em.”
I gave them a challenging stare. I was leaning heavily on my brother, dressed in a flimsy white gown for sleeping with a giant bandage that constricted my ribs. I couldn’t carry a weapon if I tried.
Alex tossed his scabbard to the ground; his eyes remained locked on the knight from earlier. He still hadn’t forgiven the rebels for trying to bury his sister alive.
Ella dropped her scabbard next, and two concealed knives that were tucked around her ankles. She then disposed of another pair strapped to her upper arms; she did so with a smirk, waggling her fingers. “What a shame you can’t take my magic, boys.”
“You try anything—”
“Simmer down.” She rolled her eyes. “It was a joke.”
Their expressions were humorless as stone.
It wasn’t a surprise that Priscilla and the others only trusted rebels to guard a former king… I wondered if they wished I were dead. Then I could be their fallen hero instead of a troublemaker to the Crown.
Ian wasn’t among them, but the rebels probably didn’t trust him that much either.
Kenan, an older man with close-cropped hair and squinty eyes, cleared his throat. “The queen has already given you a warning for conduct. We won’t hesitate to enforce it.”
Alex opened his mouth to snarl a retort and Ella kicked his leg. “Shall we?”
My eyes were locked on the door as two of the mages removed a heavy steel bar and turned their key.
I couldn’t see anything inside.
It was so dark.
My muscles went lax as I recognized the stench within. Old urine and blood.
It brought me back to the dungeons in Devon.
A whimper escaped my lips. Darren.
Ella and Alex didn’t bother to wait for their eyes to adjust. They marched me through the threshold as all but one of the guards followed us inside.
We made it halfway when one of the guards lit a sconce.
Then I saw him.
The king was lying in a pool of crimson, his skin as pale as snow. Cuts and bruises mottled his skin. His hair was matted with sweat and dirt.
One of his arms stuck out at a strange angle. There was a gaping wound in his leg, oozing blood and yellowing pus. His vest was in tatters and his boots were missing. His breeches were ripped and stained red.
His eyes were clenched shut as we entered.
I didn’t realize I was screaming until Darren’s eyes flew open and the guards started to yell.
“Who did this?”