A strangled sound escapes me.
Tyree’s smile grows wider. “I like a good challenge.”
“There is no match between us, and there never will be,” she hisses.
“Fates, why must you be so damned difficult,” I mutter as she spins and stomps out the door.
Tyree’s gaze trails after her, amusement shining in them. “I like her more already.”
“Leave us,” I command the guards.
They march out without another word.
“She doesn’t have much respect for you, does she?” Tyree folds his arms, adopting a casual stance. “What kind of king can’t control his own sister?”
“Speaking of sisters, how did it feel to have Romeria seek you out in the dungeon and pump you for information for her new love?”
A muscle in Tyree’s jaw ticks, the only sign that my words pierce him. But I was there at the end of that exchange; I saw how he smashed her face against the bars in a fit of rage.
In the next moment, it’s gone, replaced by an arrogant smirk. “I hear you are having issues with your eastern lords. How very terrible.”
Those idiot guards must be gossiping again. “Nothing that isn’t on its way to resolution soon.”
“Resolution?” He snorts. “Islor is already on its knees, and you scramble with futile marriage proposals that will not solve your problems. My father was as foolish, and that landed him in a grave. You need better advisors, Atticus.”
“And what would you propose, as my wise advisor?” I ask with exaggerated flourish.
Tyree strolls over to take a seat on the couch, slinging his arms across the back on either side. As if he hasn’t a care in the world, as if I might not drive a sword through him at any moment. “Release me, and I will find my sister, so I may deal with her for her betrayal to Ybaris. That is one less traitor in your midst.”
I laugh. “You mean, so you can round up your Ybarisan soldiers and help attack from within? That is possibly the worst advice I’ve ever received.”
He shrugs. “Worth a shot. Though I do know my sister better than anyone else.”
“Your sister the princess, perhaps. But not this Romeria. She is an entirely different person, and she is far more resourceful than you give her credit for.”
His eyes narrow. “What do you mean by that?”
“You think because I moved you here, we are suddenly trading secrets like bedfellows? I can just as easily send you back to the tower. Or the dungeon.”
“I hear it’s full.”
“Then a pyre in the execution square it is.”
“You are not foolish enough. Just as you are not foolish enough to believe that caging those lords will stop others from rising in their place. The stewards probably already have.”
“They haven’t heard about it yet. I’ve made sure of that.”
He studies his fingernails. “When will you admit it?”
“Admit what?”
“That you betrayed your brother to steal a broken crown. How does that feel?”
His words pierce me deeper than I expected.
“A formidable battle commander, you might have been, Atticus, but you have no hope of defeating my mother, not with the full force of Mordain behind her. She is too cunning for you.”
“Perhaps. But you will never get the satisfaction of being alive to see it.” I stroll out before I make good on my promise right there, pulling the door shut tight behind me. How did he—a prisoner—get the upper hand?
“You are to stand guard at this door, not chatter about the state of Islor for our enemy’s ears,” I hiss.
The guards bow and begin offering apologies, but I’m already gone, charging down the hall. Before I see Gracen, I should expel some of this rage.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
ROMERIA
“Keep moving,” Jarek warns, nudging me along past the man’s naked corpse.
Sadness and anger burn inside me as I huddle in my cloak. “That’s three bodies on this street alone.” Why can’t they at least give them the dignity of clothes? But I know the answer already. Clothes have value for the living, not the dead. And besides, they’ve been hung for a crime. They don’t deserve any dignity.
“And we’re likely to see more. Are you surprised?” From within his cowl, Jarek glowers at a man walking across the street, but then dismisses him as nonthreatening. “Atticus wants to send a clear message to the mortals.”
“That he’s cruel and coldhearted?” Zander would never have done this as king. “I told him the poison wouldn’t matter after Hudem. That’s days away now. Why won’t he listen?”