Keris shook his head, taking a seat on the bench she gestured to. He allowed his mind to drift down into itself, barely feeling the bite of needle and thread as he relived the memories the conversation had brought to the surface. Of Coralyn in the hole beneath the palace, face bruised and gown covered with dirt as she said, I resolved to kill Zarrah. Aided her quest for vengeance for her mother’s death.
God help him, but he’d hated Coralyn in that moment. Hated how she’d justified her villainy with her desire to protect him. To protect their family. The hypocrisy of his fury was not lost on Keris now, for he’d done the same to protect Zarrah, only to earn her hatred. A vicious circle of behavior where the ends always justified the means, yet he couldn’t step clear of it. Couldn’t accept the consequences that would come with being anything other than a villain.
You are your father’s son. A Veliant to the core.
He tensed, hating that he’d spent his whole life running from something that couldn’t be escaped.
“Nearly done,” Amelie muttered. “That woman is too quick to violence for her own good.”
One of his eyebrows rose. “Not a supporter of Queen Lara’s reign, I take it?”
She spat, a glob of spittle striking the smooth tiles of the floor, only for her to immediately curse A servant with a tray approached, and Aren snagged both glasses off it and shoved one into Keris’s and toss a cloth over the mess she’d made. “This blasted place grinds my nerves. Give me a good dirt floor, I say.”
Possessed of a significant dislike for filth, Keris disagreed but said nothing as he waited for a response to his question.
“You a forgiving man, boy?”
He shook his head.
“Likewise,” she muttered. “Not a forgiving bone in my body, especially for those who hurt me and mine.”
“Like I did.”
He couldn’t see her face, but he felt her frown as her hands paused in their motions. “It’s different,”
she finally said. “You attacked from the outside, whereas she struck from within. It leaves a deeper
“Not quite as sedentary as the spies claim,” the old woman said, looking him up and down in a waywound, and while I will accept Lara and respect her for what she has done to atone, I will never that made his cheeks warm. “You seem quite fit for someone who supposedly spends his life hiding in forgive her.”
“Is the rest of Ithicana like-minded?”
“Some,” she answered. “And some see her as the one true queen and fall to their knees in her presence, believing her chosen by the guardians of Ithicana. Perhaps even by God himself.”
secrets for the sake of it.” Rising on her toes, Amelie frowned at his throat. “Already closed itself, so Keris grimaced, having little tolerance for fanaticism.
“But most are so consumed with rebuilding their lives, with surviving, that they do not think of her at all.”
Reviled. Worshipped. Or forgotten. A rush of pity filled him that Lara, after all she’d done, was faced with a lifetime of such treatment, and on its heels came anger. “You don’t deserve her.”
He started to rise, wanting no more part of this conversation, stitches be damned, but quick as a viper, the cursed old woman caught him by the hair and jerked. As his ass smacked back down on the bench, she said, “Aren shares your views. He wanted to abdicate and take her away, but Lara refused.
For better or worse, she has chosen this life, so keep your smart mouth to yourself and let me finish.
Ithicana will suffer Maridrina’s wrath the same whether you die from a festered wound or from Aren tossing you to the sharks.”
“My point stands,” he said between his teeth as she jabbed the needle into his flesh. “And …” He silenced the threat rising to his tongue because it was an empty one. “And while I enjoy hairpulling in certain circumstances, you have my assurance that those circumstances are not forthcoming.”
Keris shook his head, taking a seat on the bench she gestured to. He allowed his mind to drift down Amelie cackled and slapped a hand against her thigh. “Must be in the blood. Your grandfather loved having his hair pulled when—”
“There are some things I don’t need to know.” Though he’d been aware that this woman had once infiltrated the harem as one of his grandfather’s wives, Keris still hadn’t been ready for such a visceral reminder.
“If it helps, when I was your age, I looked exactly like Ahnna but with bigger tits.” She chuckled, her desire to protect him. To protect their family. The hypocrisy of his fury was not lost on Keris now, fastening a bandage around him. “Smelly old bastard was putty in my hands.”
It did not help.
the ends always justified the means, yet he couldn’t step clear of it. Couldn’t accept the consequences
“On that delightful note, thank you for your assistance.” Rising to his feet, Keris pulled on his shirt and coat, wanting the security of the leather despite the oppressive heat. “Where can I find him?”
Amelie was focused on packing her supplies into a kit. “Follow the noise. Jor sounds like a braying donkey when he laughs. You may feel free to tell him I said so.”
A real laugh escaped his lips, but Keris immediately bit down upon it. You have no right to laugh, he snarled at himself. No right to experience a heartbeat of happiness while Zarrah suffers in that hellhole for your sins.
and toss a cloth over the mess she’d made. “This blasted place grinds my nerves. Give me a good dirt Amelie’s eyes narrowed, and not wanting to answer any questions about whatever she’d seen on his face, Keris stepped out of the room and into the corridor. The building had an echoing quality to it, much as did the bridge, and he immediately picked up on the sound of laughter, though it was Dax’s distinct bellow that drew his attention.
“Bloody bastard is already drunk,” he muttered, following the noise down the corridor to the main staircase. Only to slide to a stop as a boy descended, the tail of a long, banded snake in one hand, the hissing creature’s head held away by a hook on a long stick.
“Mind yourself,” the boy announced. “She’s poisonous as they come.”
“Venomous,” Keris instinctively corrected. “Poison is something you ingest.”
He couldn’t see her face, but he felt her frown as her hands paused in their motions. “It’s different,”
The boy gave him a look of disgust. “Don’t rightly matter how it got inside of you if you’re dead, does it?”
The snake’s gaze fixed on Keris, mouth opening wide as it lunged, and he lurched back. “A fair point. Carry on.”
Waiting until boy and snake were down the stairs and out the main doors, Keris made his way to the main level, walking down a wide corridor, the doors lining it closed. A pair of servants passed, one girl curtseying and the other crossing her arms, though curiosity filled both their eyes. He nodded at them and kept walking, irritation filling his core as he faintly heard Dax say, “Took nearly an hour to scrape the bastard off the pavement. For such a skinny little fucker, he splattered like a bag of wet mortar.”
Someone said something in response, too low for Keris to make out, but Dax was gratingly loud as he said, “They were alone, so no one knows for sure. But given he was also alone with his brother when Prince Otis took his swan dive, I think it’s safe to say it’s unwise to piss off His Grace when you are in a high place.”