“Ari,” Thad mumbled. She ignored him. So did Teague.
“He’s a seventeen-year-old who’s only been on the throne for a few weeks,” Teague said. “He can’t deliver kingdoms to me.”
“It doesn’t matter how long he’s had the throne.” Her voice shook. “It only matters how many powerful allies he has in other kingdoms.”
Teague paused to study her expression for a long moment, and then said, “Go on.”
“I’ve been looking into your affairs,” she said to Teague.
His golden eyes narrowed, and pressure built in her chest. She rushed to get the words out.
“You’re highly reliant on your brokers in Balavata to move all the product you don’t sell in Súndraille. That means you have to raise your price to pay their commission and still make the profit you need to pay your employees and keep supplies coming in.”
“A necessary inconvenience.”
“Not if Thad can get you a direct distributor in the kingdoms where he has strong allies. If he can introduce you to the most powerful and influential royals and nobles he knows.” She could barely stand to hold Teague’s feral gaze. Her teeth chattered, and she clasped her hands together tightly to keep them from trembling. “Imagine if you promised each of them the desire of their hearts in return for absolute immunity within their kingdoms. Or in return for consulting with you on every decision. You wouldn’t just be the power behind Súndraille’s throne. You’d be the power behind the thrones in seven of the ten kingdoms.”
And, stars, she hoped she really could learn how to stop him soon because otherwise, she’d have just sacrificed most of the known world for the sake of her brother and the hope that she could stop Teague from ruining Kosim Thalas.
She wasn’t sure this made her a very good person, but now wasn’t the time for moral contemplation.
Teague’s eyes narrowed. “Seven of the kingdoms?”
“We have strong alliances with Akram, Balavata, Ravenspire, Loch Talam, Morcant, and Eldr. Add those to Súndraille, and you have seven kingdoms that could all answer to you.”
He watched her in unblinking silence. Ari shuddered as fear chased ice through her bones. He was going to finish taking Thad’s soul. And then he’d kill Cleo. Maybe kill Ari too. And there would be no one left to rule Súndraille.
No one but Teague.
Her mouth went dry, and the air felt too thick to breathe as that horrible thought took root and grew.
He’d already proven to the people of Kosim Thalas that he could do as he pleased. That the king couldn’t or wouldn’t protect them. Stars only knew how many members of the Assembly were indebted to Teague for a wish or a piece of his criminal empire. If Thad and Ari were gone, who would stand between Teague and the crown?
Who would dare?
Teague smiled slowly, and Ari felt sick.
What if this was what he’d been after all along? Unimpeded access to Súndraille’s throne after ten years of proving that he was the only power that mattered in the kingdom, and then eventually access to every other throne as well, one wish at a time.
And she’d just offered him a shortcut to all of it on the faint hope that she could somehow find the key to destroying him before he did any more harm.
“You’re suggesting I forgo taking the boy’s soul and use him as a royal puppet instead.” Teague’s smile grew.
Ari couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat.
Teague looked past Ari to Thad, still on his knees, blood pouring from his wounds while he swayed. “Becoming the real power behind the throne in Súndraille and exerting influence and control over other kingdoms as well is a very tempting offer.”
How fast could Teague ruin Súndraille? How fast could he infiltrate and then ruin other kingdoms? Ari had a terrible fear that he could move a lot faster than she could find out how to stop him. It was time to stop hiding in the palace library doing research. She’d start with a trip to Llorenyae, and she wouldn’t leave until she learned who had exiled Teague and, more important, how.
Sebastian met her eyes, and she was afraid the worry that filled his was written on her face as well.
“What happens if the boy decides not to play along? What if he sabotages my business interests or keeps trying to ruin me? The potential has to outweigh the risks, my dear.” Teague stepped closer, and Ari flinched. “I will let your brother continue to live on two conditions.”
“No,” Thad whispered as he leaned forward to rest his palms on the floor for support.
“I’m no longer doing business with you, dear boy,” Teague said. “Here are my conditions. First, Thaddeus will grant me the status of royal adviser and immediately begin introducing me to his contacts in other kingdoms with the understanding that I speak for him.” He locked gazes with Ari. “And second, as an insurance policy against any potential betrayal on his part, I will take you as my prisoner. You will remain alive with your soul intact for as long as your brother is obedient to me.”
A chill slid over her skin as Thad said, “No. I forbid it.”
Sebastian gave her a look she couldn’t decipher, his hands fisted at his sides.
“I’d have to go live with you?” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself in a vain attempt to ward off the chill that seemed to be sinking into her bones.
His smile was cruel. “Indeed.”
“Ari, no!” Thad’s voice was forceful.
Ari stared at Teague. If she refused, he’d take Thad’s soul, kill Cleo, and probably kill Ari and anyone who tried to defend her. And then he’d either take the throne or run the kingdom through his network of thugs regardless of who the Assembly found to sit on the throne.
If she agreed to become his prisoner, she’d have access to his home. A chance to watch him for weaknesses she could use against him. Most of all, she’d buy all of them the time they needed to come up with a plan to stop Teague, and Thad and Cleo would still be alive.
“Only if you tear up Thad’s contract,” she whispered, her heart pounding painfully in her chest.
“Princess!” Sebastian moved toward her, but stopped at the look she gave him.
A look that begged him to trust that she had a plan—which she did. Mostly. If you called choosing the best of two terrible choices a plan.
“Ari,” Thad whispered. “You can’t do this.”
“I’m taking your place.” She lifted her eyes to Teague’s and glimpsed Sebastian’s stricken face behind him.
“No!” Thad said. “It was my mistake. My wish. Punish me, but don’t take my sister.”
“Oh, I think this will punish you nicely.” Teague reached for the contract, whispered a few words, and the ink on the parchment scurried to rearrange itself until Thad’s name was gone and Ari’s was in its place. “I’m confident she means enough to you that you’ll do whatever I require just to keep her safe. Make a wish, my dear.”