Thad was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, “And if they overpower you? If they get free?”
“They come trained with specific commands. We’ll be able to control them. The bounty hunters I worked with are very professional.”
“Fine. I’ll task every servant I can spare with building a barn to your specifications, and I’ll hire more if necessary so that we can finish it quickly. I’d prefer if you waited to attack Teague until after the ball we’re hosting in the princess’s honor three weeks from now. If something goes wrong . . . she deserves to be launched properly without the taint of her brother’s death hanging over her head.”
Ari’s heart thudded against her chest, and she clutched her plate with shaking hands.
If he was so certain that failure meant his death, then why risk it in the first place? He had nine years and eleven months left. Surely an assassination attempt should be the final, desperate gamble they played just before time ran out.
“I’ll wait until after the ball unless Teague appears to be escalating against you. We have to keep you safe, Your Highness. Once the Wish Granter is destroyed and your soul is no longer in danger, you can—”
Ari’s blood ran cold, and her plate hit the floor with a thud, spilling her muffin onto the rug.
“What was that?” Ajax demanded, bending down to peer beneath the tablecloth.
Ari ignored him as she crawled out from under the table beside Thad’s chair. Remaining on her knees, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Thad through eyes already swimming with tears.
“You bargained away your soul? How could you?” Her voice shook, and a tear spilled over, chasing a trail of heat down her cheek.
He closed his eyes as if in pain, and then said quietly, “Give us the room.”
“Your Highnesses.” Ajax stood, bowed stiffly, and left.
“What happened?” Ari wiped tears from her face and tried to go back to glaring at Thad, but icy fear had blossomed like a pit within her, and she couldn’t tear her mind away from the image of Teague coming for Thad. Tearing her brother from her and leaving another sharp ache of pain burrowing into her heart for a lifetime.
Her brother’s eyes met hers, and desperate regret filled his face. “Mother had just been killed. The queen was hunting us. I left you asleep in the date grove and considered throwing myself into the sea—”
“Oh, Thad.”
“—but that wouldn’t have solved anything. She would’ve hunted you down next. Teague found me there.”
“What was he doing wandering around a date grove so far from Kosim Thalas?”
Thad shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe his magic senses when someone is truly desperate.”
“Desperate enough to wish to be king in exchange for his soul?” She tried to keep the disappointment from her voice, but he looked wounded anyway.
“I didn’t want to do that, Ari. I just wanted to protect you the way I wasn’t able to protect Mother.” He pressed his fingers to his forehead as if it pained him. “I wished for you to be safe from the queen’s hunters.”
Ari trembled. “That’s not worth your soul plus ten years of looking the other way while Teague does whatever he pleases to the people of Kosim Thalas.”
“I didn’t know about the clause that said I couldn’t interfere with Teague’s activities, but, yes, saving you would’ve been worth my soul.”
Now she glared again, though her tears were falling harder. “We could’ve figured out another way, Thad. You and I. Made a plan. We’re good at that.”
“No, you’re good at that.” He smiled, though his eyes were sad. “I’m good at realizing when your mad schemes are about to cause disaster.”
“Well, look who’s causing a disaster now.” Her voice was sharp.
“I know.” His shoulders slumped. “He wouldn’t grant my wish.”
“But you said you owed your soul and—”
“He wouldn’t grant my wish to spare you from the hunters. He would only grant a wish to make me king.” He stared at his hands, his fingers laced together so tightly his golden skin was turning pale at the knuckles.
“Because he wanted no interference from the throne as he took over the city with his nasty henchmen.”
Thad frowned and met her gaze. “What do you know about that?”
Ari found something very interesting to study on the carpet. “One hears rumors. All right, so the only way to save us from the hunters was to wish to be king. Obviously it was dark outside so you couldn’t read the contract very well and see the bit about letting him get away with whatever he wants, but I think it would help us to read it now. Maybe there’s a loophole. I have the Book of the Fae on order. There might be something in there that will help. Where’s the contract?”
“He kept it.”
“He kept— Honestly, Thad. Why would you let him do that?” Ari snapped.
“You’ve met him!” His voice rose. “No one lets him do anything! I made the wish so I could keep you safe. I thought once I was king I could exile Father, the queen, and his son and then spend the time I had left preparing you to be Súndraille’s queen. I didn’t know the royal family would die, or that I would have to stand by and watch as Teague hurts the people I’ve sworn to protect.”
“Thad—”
“I can’t even look at myself in the mirror.” His voice shook. “I wear a crown gained by trickery, and I can’t make it right. All I can do is keep you safe and train you to be the kind of ruler I can’t be.”
She wrapped her arms around him and swallowed her tears as he leaned against her.
Maybe Thad couldn’t make this right, but she could. She had to.
TEN
STEP ONE IN Ari’s plan to take on Teague was to learn how to use a weapon without accidentally putting out her eye.
She stood in the arena, looking over the small collection of iron daggers, arrowheads, and throwing stars the weapons master had fashioned while also discreetly looking over him as well. He really was young for the job. He had maybe a year on her, though something in his eyes looked much older. And he was tall. Even with Ari’s height, she had to look up to meet his gaze. There was a stillness, an awareness to him that told her he missed very little—something she was grateful for after yesterday.
Everything about him—from his close-cut black hair to his ruthlessly neat uniform to the muscles that filled out his (very intriguing) shoulders—said that he was a person of incredible discipline.
Ari could appreciate that, even if it did make her want to check her own clothing for the stain that her midmorning snack had probably left behind.
“Have you ever used a weapon?” he asked. His voice was as quiet and controlled as his body. Very different from the dangerous snarl he’d used against Teague’s men the day before.
“Besides my brain and my fist? No.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. She decided to take that as a smile.