I want to be angry, but how can I? I assassinated a man in cold blood and I’m not sorry. She stabbed a man with a poisoned knitting needle and she already wishes she hadn’t. What right have I to be angry?
So all I say is, “The next time you lie to me, you go home. Are we clear?”
“I hated lying to you,” she says. She lets out a sob. “I’m so sorry. I wanted my father to see me, but he never did. He just saw a means to an end.”
“Your father is the reincarnation of Ek Lavya, so her hurt became his hurt. He’s in pain. It’s not an excuse, but it is what it is.”
Sybilla raises a hand to stop me. “Now hold on just one second,” she says. “King Darshan is Ek Lavya? The Ek Lavya?”
“And Rickard was the teacher from the stories,” I say.
“I need to sit down,” Sybilla says. “This is too much for one day. Do you know I have gray hairs? Gray hairs! I’m eighteen. And it’s because of nonsense like this.”
“Esmae.” Radha wipes her tears away. “I meant what I said when I told you I wanted to help you defeat Alexi. And I still want to help you in any way I can. So what happens next?”
I keep thinking about my dream, the one with Rama and Warlords. It really happened, that game. He really did say he’d ask his father to adopt me. What came later in the dream never happened, of course, but that’s what I keep coming back to. I keep thinking about the moment Alex appeared where Rama had been and said if you want him back, you know where to find me.
It’s too late for Rama, and it’s too late for Rickard, but maybe it’s not too late for Max.
“I need to go talk to my brother,” I say.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I speak to Katya, the princess of Winter, and the enthusiasm with which she greets my request for a meeting tells me Alexi’s been waiting for this. We agree to meet in her father King Ralf’s palace, where my safety and Alex’s safety have been sworn by the king’s own oath.
Will an oath keep me in check when I come face to face with my brother for the first time since the duel? I’d like to think so, but I don’t know. I’m afraid to see him.
I fly Titania to Winter and then go to the palace alone. He’ll be alone, too. Those are the terms. Frankly, it’s about the safest place either of us could be right now. No king in the star system would break his oath to a guest.
Princess Katya meets me in the entrance hall and guides me to a private parlor in a quiet part of the palace. She’s more subdued than I remember her.
“How can you still be his friend?” I can’t help asking her. “You must have known Rama. How can you and your parents still help him after what he did?”
Katya gives me a stricken look, then presses her lips together. “I’m still his friend because I’ve known him most of my life,” she says, “and I want desperately to believe there’s some way to justify what he did because I can’t believe the Alexi Rey I knew would do that. He knows how angry I am, I promise you. And as for helping him, no. I can’t speak for my parents, but I’ve told him I will have no part in his war.” She gestures to me. “Except for this. I’ll facilitate peace. Anything to end this before we’re all destroyed.”
“Katya, this isn’t about peace,” I tell her. “I’m here because he took Max.”
“He knows how I feel about that, too,” she says.
The parlor is empty, apart from a young man who sits unobtrusively on the windowsill. I remember him from Katya’s wedding. “Prince Dimitri,” I say, using his new title.
“Princess Esmae.” He darts a look at Katya. “Everything okay, love?”
She nods. “Where is he?”
“He’s five minutes away. Can I get you a drink, Esmae?”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“What a lovely, awkward conversation,” Titania huffs in my ear. “My favorite kind. Can’t you make it more interesting?”
I resist the urge to deactivate my earpiece. Instead, I just ignore her. This makes her start singing, a pirate’s song about buried treasure, with a lot of bawdy lyrics that would be unspeakably funny coming from Titania if I wasn’t on edge. “Stop it,” I hiss.
“I’m only trying to cheer you up!”
And now of course Katya and Dimitri are giving me strange looks because I appear to be talking to myself.
“You’re not helping,” I say.
“Who are you talking to?”
I freeze. That’s his voice.
I turn. Alex is in the doorway. His brownish golden skin is paler than it was a few weeks ago, probably from a lack of sleep and constant injury. I wonder if I look the same. If I, too, have those dark shadows under my eyes. If I, too, have scrapes and bruises all over me.
His eyes, exactly like mine, stare at me with so much feeling that I can’t bear to look. So I turn away and address Katya and Dimitri. “Can I speak to my brother alone? I give you my word I won’t kill him.”
It’s a dark attempt at a joke, but they obviously don’t take it as such. Well, who can blame them? I probably wouldn’t trust me.
But they do leave, shutting the parlor door gently behind them. I have no doubt guards are right outside, ready to burst in if either of us misbehaves.
I sit down, crossing one leg over the other and resting my forearms on the arms of the chair. The posture of royalty, cold and unyielding. He sits in the opposite chair, but doesn’t opt for the same position. Instead, he draws one knee up to rest his chin on it. Like a vulnerable schoolboy. I want to throw something at him.
“You’ve been busy,” he says.
I can tell he means King Yann. More specifically, framing him for the assassination of King Yann. “You’re one to talk,” I reply. “Is Max alive?”
“Yes. I swear.”
I tilt my head, searching every shift in his body and every note in his voice for a lie. “Is he hurt?”
He has the good grace to look sheepish. “We had a fight. If it makes you feel better, he gave as good as he got.” He gestures to the bruise on one cheek.
“Where is he?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“Then tell me what it’ll take to get him back.”
Alex blinks. “You really care that much? About Max?”
“You don’t have any idea who he really is,” I say. “I’m surprised Kirrin hasn’t told you. Actually, I’m shocked Kirrin hasn’t told you. See, I always assumed he cared about Max, but if he did, why did he help you take him? If he really cared, why did he leave Max’s life in the hands of the people who hate him most? Ask him if you don’t believe me. Ask him why you were really exiled from Kali. Ask him why you’re still alive.”
From the expression on his face, I can tell I’ve thrown him. He doesn’t know what to make of this, or of the implication that Kirrin has been keeping secrets from him. His hand clenches on his knee, but he only says, “Your surrender. That’s what will get him back. I’ll trade him for you.”
“So you can finish that duel the way you really wanted to?”
“I don’t want that.” Alex’s voice is tight and pained. “I never wanted that. There’s a lot you don’t know about that duel.”
I stare at him, torn between an urge to hurt him and a desperate, treacherous need to know. “Then tell me,” I say at last. “I’m here. I’m listening. Tell me what I don’t know.”
He opens his mouth, then closes it. He shakes his head, not meeting my eyes.
“I don’t know why I bother,” I say bitterly, “And for the record, no. I will not trade myself for Max.”
“Do you care about him or not?” Alex asks, bewildered. “I can’t tell if he cares about you. He wouldn’t tell us anything. We promised him we’d let Elvar and Guinne live, that we’d let him live, that we’d even let you live, and he still wouldn’t talk. We offered him the crown of Arcadia if he helped me get Kali back.” At that, I laugh. Max knows exactly how much Arcadia is worth. “We threatened you. You know what he said? Esmae can take care of herself.”
&nb
sp; “Well, she can,” I say, inordinately pleased that Max refused to give in. “The Blue Knights won’t sneak up on me twice, I assure you. Actually, that reminds me. Why am I still here? Why didn’t they kill me?”
Alex’s throat moves. “Maybe I don’t want you dead.”
“Do I need to remind you of the fact that Rama died because you killed him believing he was me?”
“I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry about that.”
This is a different apology from the one he gave me right after duel. He was obviously shocked then, but his apology was hollow and insincere. This one is broken, scored deeply by guilt. When did this happen? When did he decide he was sorry?
“And Shloka?”
That startles him. “Shloka? The country?”
“Are you joking? You’re really going to pretend you don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“This,” I snarl, standing up and unbuttoning my dress. Two buttons down, the skin just above my right breast is marked with a vivid red scar.
He stands too, eyes wide. He approaches me, one hand outstretched as if to touch the scar. He draws his hand back at the last moment. I frown at him. Why is he so surprised?
“Who did that to you?”
My temper snaps and I shove him hard in the chest. “You did! Your favorite general and her band of mercenaries ambushed me in Shloka and almost killed me.”
“Leila?” he recoils. “No, she wouldn’t. I never gave her permission to do that. I would never have allowed it.”
“Did you give her permission to murder Maya Sura?” I ask softly.
Alex draws in a sharp breath.
“Yes,” I say, “I know all about Arcadia.”
“Maya Sura is dead?”
“Yes, he’s dead. I saw him at her feet, murdered for no reason other than that he knew too much. And if Leila Saka didn’t do that on your orders, whose orders were they? Who thinks they can tell your general what to do? Or does your general think she can do what she wants?”
Alex’s jaw works. He turns away and sinks back into his chair, his head buried in his hands. I suppose, if someone were to paint him now, he’d make a romantic picture. The handsome, golden hero, at his lowest before he rises once more to glory. That’s how they’ll tell it. And the next picture will have him shining in battle, and then the last in the sequence will show him with a crown on his head. That’s the way of the world. The dark fall, the golden rise.
“The very first thing you learn on Kali is respect for your elders,” Alex says unexpectedly, raising his head slowly. “How can you learn if you don’t respect your teachers? How can you grow well if you don’t respect your family? All that. I’ve been good at it. I’ve been a good son, a good student.”
“Yes, I noticed.”
“But,” he adds quietly, “I think those who came before us created a world we were doomed to fail in. Haven’t you noticed it’s you and me at the heart of this war while our elders stand at the periphery?”
I shrug. “It’s our war.”
“Is it? I’m not saying we shouldn’t accept responsibility for what we’ve done, but the deck was stacked against us from the start. This war was inevitable because of choices other people made before we were even born. Grandmother cursed our mother because of Queen Vanya’s death, so Mother sent you away. We grew up apart and now look where we are. Meanwhile, Grandmother is a minor player in our story and goes on as if nothing happened.”
“She tried to stop the war.”
“Too little, too late. What about Rickard and all his promises? What about Elvar? What about Kirrin and Amba? What about Queen Vanya, who chose our father as her heir instead of Elvar? Where would we be without all those choices?”
“What about your choices?” I demand. “You could have made a different choice in that duel, but you didn’t. The consequences of that are on you. You’re right. We were born into a world where the deck was already stacked against us, a world with the echoes of hundreds of choices the generations before us made. But you’ve played your part, too, Alex.”
He looks up at me, standing in front of him, and rises. “What do you want from this war?”
“I want you to hurt the way I hurt,” I say. “You took my best friend from me. You lied to me. I loved you and you broke my heart. So I want you to feel all of that. I want you to know what it is to be broken. I want to take away your reputation, your glory, and your crown. I want you to hurt.”
There are tears on my face when I’m finished, and on his too. “You will be the end of me,” he says.
“Yes.”
“The duel was supposed to prevent that from happening, but it made it happen.”
“Fate is a trickster god, Alex. You should have used your free will and ignored it. You should have chosen differently.”
“I did. I tried.” And then: “I did love you, you know. I do love you. You’re my sister.”
I smile a little. “But?”
“But you won’t stop, will you?”
“You know the answer to that. My glorious, golden brother. Do you remember when we first met after the competition, when you told me I was no one? You were so proud then, so angry someone had actually beaten you, so sure of who you were.”
“That boy is gone,” he says. “I’m not sure of much anymore. I hurt more than you can possibly know.”
“Give Max back, Alex.”
“I can’t do that. Not unless you stop. You’ll be the end of me if you don’t stop. Or I’ll be the end of you.” His voice cracks at that part, as if he hasn’t already been the end of me once. As if it hurts. “Esmae, please. You can still stop. Don’t make me fight you. Don’t make this worse. It’s not too late.”
The plea doesn’t move me. Rama never got a chance to plead. I never got a chance to plead.
“This will destroy our family,” he goes on. “It’ll destroy our House. Centuries of kings and queens, all gone.”
I think of the long, grand gallery of beautiful portraits on Kali, all those faces lined up on the walls. All those ghosts.
“Maybe it’s time the great House of Rey came to an end,” I reply. “After all, what are we now? A broken House, a ruined House. A House of rage and sorrow.”
Alex opens his mouth, but he doesn’t get to speak. The door slams open unexpectedly, startling us.
Princess Katya runs back in. “Bear’s in trouble!” she cries.
“How can Bear be in trouble?” Alex asks. “He’s in Arcadia.”
“No, he’s not. He’s on Kali.”
“What?”
“How is that possible?” I demand. “How did he get there?”
“Lord Selwyn invited him there for a game of dice. I assume in retaliation for Max. I don’t know what the stakes were, but Bear obviously couldn’t resist.” Distress colors Katya’s voice. “You know how badly he wants this war to end before either of you are killed.”
All the blood has leeched out of Alex’s face. He and Katya look at me, as if I somehow have fairytale powers and can conjure Bear out of thin air.
“I’ll get him back,” I snap and storm out.
As I rush out of the palace and into Blackforest, Winter’s capital city, I unmute Titania. Incredibly, she’s still singing.
“Titania, stop! We need to get back to Kali.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Lord Selwyn did what he does best. He tricked Bear into a game of dice, and I dread to think what the stakes could be.”
No matter which side he and I are on, I love Bear, in the simple, total way I loved Rama. If Lord Selwyn touches so much as one hair on his—
“What are you going to do?” Titania asks anxiously.
“I don’t know. Elvar and Guinne won’t let go of Bear easily, not with Max still gone.”
“Esmae.”
I falter, arrested by the way she said my name. “What is it?”
“I think I might know a way you can save Bear.” It’s a very imprecise, human sentence. This is not a s
entient spaceship sharing data. This is a friend trying to find some way to avoid telling me an ugly truth. The back of my neck crawls with dread. “There’s something you need to know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
My heart feels cold, like there’s nothing left there. Maybe it’s shock. I stand in the balcony above the Throne Hall, the scene of the game of dice, and watch the figures below. Elvar, Guinne, Selwyn, royal guards, courtiers. And on the other side, Bear. Alone.
He’s dead. That was what Titania told me. She has a connection to Amba and Kirrin, which is news to me, and it lets her sometimes see the things they see. He’s dead. A prisoner in a woodcutter’s cottage, hidden away, shielded and guarded. He’s dead. It was what she had wanted to tell me the morning after the Lotus Festival, but she’d kept quiet after Max had been taken. She had felt it would be too cruel to tell me at such a time.
Below me, Bear’s face is flushed with shame and fury. “Another round,” he says, and then grinds out, “Please.”
Lord Selwyn smiles. “Is that wise? You’ve already gambled and lost your mother’s wedding ring, your freedom, and your claim to the throne if the twins die. What else can you possibly stake?”
“Max?”
“You’ve already told us you have no control over what your brother does with Max,” Lord Selwyn replies, “so that’s not an honest stake. Come now, Prince Abra. End this humiliation before you make everything worse.”
“You cheated.”
“That’s the response of a sore loser.”
Bear’s shoulders slump. “So what now? You lock me up until the war is over?”
“That about sums it up, yes. Have no fear, we’ll make sure you’re comfortable. Your uncle is kinder than I am. He insists that you be treated well.”
Bear glares across at Elvar as if he finds this hard to believe, but I don’t. I know Elvar carries around more guilt about what he’s done than he lets on. He grips the arms of the throne very tightly now and says, “Bear, please. We can forget about this whole game and you can go back to Arcadia if you simply tell us where Max is.”
“I can’t help you, Uncle,” Bear says, jaw clenched. “I was an idiot to let this get this far, but at least I’ve only gambled away what’s mine. I can’t betray Alex and give Max up. And,” he adds, with a flash of his temper, “I don’t want to give Max up anyway. He sent us into exile. He can stay where he is forever.”
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