“And yet Ithicana still stands.”
“Do you think that will save you, Keris?” his sister asked. “Do you think that our victory absolves your betrayal?”
Absolution would ever be beyond his reach, but that didn’t mean he’d stand quietly while being accused of crimes he hadn’t committed. “Which betrayal would that be? I made no promise to Ithicana, formed no alliance, owed no loyalty. What’s more, I’m not the one who is guilty of starting the war—”
He twisted, the knife scoring his back as he turned to face her. Only to find the tip now pressed against his throat. “Just of finishing it.”
Lara didn’t blink, the hand holding the knife steady and capable of putting him down. Yet no fear pulsed in Keris’s veins, only anticipation.
“We’d speculated that you’d come to ask us to help Zarrah,” she said. “But it feels more like you’ve come here seeking your own death.”
So they knew about Zarrah. No surprise, given Ithicana’s network of spies, but the fact that they’d known and done nothing fanned the embers of anger in his heart. Zarrah had risked her life to ally with them, and rather than help her, they’d sat on their asses in their hidden kingdom. “I’m here to remind you that Zarrah helped you. You owe her.”
Her head tilted. “Do we? Thanks to you, the battle Zarrah agreed to fight never happened. Ithicana fought on its own, without help from anyone.”
“Ahh.” He curbed the vicious words rising in his throat. “Is that why Ithicana’s princess remains?
Because the battle Harendell agreed to fight never happened, therefore all vows made are forgotten?”
He heard an intake of breath from behind him, female, and he filed away the Princess of Ithicana’s then gone to the summit to look out over the world. But he’d come here for a reason, and every minute reaction for later consideration. If he lived that long.
Lara’s gaze had flicked past him, but it swiftly returned as the tip of her knife dug deeper, blood running down to soak his collar. “Our agreements with Harendell are not your concern.”
Keris huffed out an amused breath. “You think alliances between nations are private matters? It’s all one game, Your Majesty, and that means they are everyone’s business.”
“Says the king here on personal business,” she answered flatly. “You cannot have it both ways. If you truly meant those words, you’d tell all of Maridrina of your affair with Zarrah Anaphora and take
back. Yet there was no mistaking him for anything other than the king of this place. Whereas in Vencia,your kingdom to war to win her freedom. Instead you keep your secrets and come here intending to he’d been a fish out of water, here Aren blended into the wildness of Ithicana even as he dominated it,use guilt and obligation to motivate us to do your dirty work, never mind that your actions were nearly Ithicana’s ruin. Never mind that involving ourselves in Valcottan matters might well see the Empress turn the might of her navy on our shores while we are too weak to defend them. I am sorry for what happened to Zarrah, but she made the choice to involve herself with you and must face the
consequences. It’s your fault she’s damned, Keris. Own that.”
He owned it every minute of every hour of every day. “So you would leave her to rot to spite me?”
“That isn’t what I said.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not the truth,” he snarled. “You’re pissed off at me, and like the petty bitch you are, you’ll leave the one person on the whole fucking continent who helped you to die just to get your revenge.”
“It has nothing to do with you.”
Lara shook with fury, and Keris knew he was playing with fire. He didn’t care. “If revenge is what you want, then quit pissing around and put that knife in my throat. But after you’re done, help her.
Please. ”
The tip of the knife dug deeper, dangerously close to puncturing his windpipe, and Keris could see in Lara’s eyes that she wanted to do it. Could see the blistering rage that cared nothing for consequences and everything for having the satisfaction of watching him die, gasping at her feet.
“I stayed at Southwatch after all the soldiers boarded ships to move on Eranahl,” he said. “Was there when the Valcottans came to attack, so I saw the moment Zarrah realized what had happened.
What I’d done.” His throat convulsed as he swallowed. “She was furious. Accused me of betraying her. Told me that she hated me. That she never wanted to see my face or hear my voice ever again, and that if we ever crossed paths, she’d kill me.”
Color drained from Lara’s face, but she said nothing.
“And then she sailed her fleet into a typhoon to try to come to your aid.” His voice cracked.
“Would have fought for you to the bitter end, if she’d been given the chance.”
“But you took that chance from her, despite knowing it was what she wanted.”
Keris’s mouth was dry as sand, his chest hollow, because he didn’t want to answer. Didn’t want Lara to know the truth, for it would only make her think worse of him, which wouldn’t help Zarrah’s cause. Yet confession rose to his lips. “Every person I’ve ever cared about has died a brutal death. A violent death.”
His mother. Raina. Coralyn. Otis.
His father.
“I …” The truth strangled him, but he forced the words out. “I couldn’t let it happen. Not to her.”
The wind had risen, and it drove droplets of rain against his face. Just as well, for it hid the tears burning in his eyes.
Because the battle Harendell agreed to fight never happened, therefore all vows made are forgotten?”
“Yet you could let it happen to me,” his sister whispered, the wind stealing the words the moment they were spoken.
But not before he heard. The accusation ripped the veil from his eyes, forcing him to see past the warrior to the woman beneath.
Grief. Exhaustion. Hurt. Though it hadn’t been so very long since he’d seen her on the beach outside Nerastis, Lara was painfully gaunt, her bare arms stick thin and her face hollow.
Don’t look, some awful part of him shrieked. She’s a liar and a traitor. A murderer who deserves no one’s pity!
you truly meant those words, you’d tell all of Maridrina of your affair with Zarrah Anaphora and take She was his sister.
You don’t know her! She’s a stranger! She’s nothing to you!
use guilt and obligation to motivate us to do your dirty work, never mind that your actions were nearly Except every time he blinked, he saw her as a child running through the harem gardens. Chasing butterflies and picking flowers when she thought their mother wasn’t looking. A tiny blond girl who sat at his elbow while he read and who’d sneaked into his room at night when she’d been scared by shadows. His sister, who’d screamed for their mother when the soldiers had taken her away.
Who’d screamed for him.
He owned it every minute of every hour of every day. “So you would leave her to rot to spite me?”
“I—” He bit down on his tongue, silencing explanations. Justifications. “I’m sorry.”