With a nod, he lowers his hands. “I have reason to believe Gaius had me shot. My injury is consistent with a pulse-round, and pulse-weapons are not allowed on this planet, much less inside the arena. The only way for that weapon to have ended up here is if Gaius approved it.”
Well, there goes my calm. “For fuck’s sake! How long have you known they were trying to kill you?”
“By ‘they’, do you mean Gaius?” he asks. My face drops, and he continues in a more serious tone. “Gaius is the only person trying to kill me, Amara.”
“Then why didn’t—” I cut myself off as a tickle in the back of my mind draws my attention to the question I should have asked a while ago. “Is it normal for future kings to die during the—” I wave my hands in the air, trying to find the word he used.
“Obligation?” he supplies.
“That.”
He bobbles his head. “The goal of the Obligation is to ensure the next leader is both fearless and willing to die for their people. If it were without risk, the purpose would be null. So yes, it can be deadly.”
I stare, blinking slowly as my mind works through everything. “So is it normal to also refuse medical care?”
“It is,” he says.
Huh… My mind spins as I scratch my forehead. “So Gaius is theonlyperson who wants you dead?”
“The only person with the means to make it happen, yes.”
“And you don’t have any concerns that everything else going on might point to a bigger conspiracy? Like, maybe your Senate wanting you dead?” I raise my brows and lean forward.
“My Senate?” There’s a serious air to his tone, but his expression hasn’t changed. “Why would they want me dead?”
This is going to suck.
“Well, from where I’m sitting, it seems like they all know about the slave trade and were clearly trying to keep you from sticking your nose in it. If they have vested interests in keeping the trade going, it would be a pretty bad call to let you become king. I mean, you’ve already shown them you wanted to end the trade. It would make sense that they might not want you to be king at all.”
He frowns, but there’s something else there. A flicker of fear he can’t hide from me. And yet, he waves his hand and says, “No. I doubt the Senate would be part of such a thing.”
It’s clear he’s reached his daily limit of discovering betrayals, so I take a different tactic. “Maybe I’m overreacting, but will you just keep it in mind as a possibility while planning our way out of this? If they aren’t involved, great. But if they are, I’d prefer we don’t die because we failed to consider it.”
He gives me a brief nod.One battle at a time, I guess.
“Back to Gaius,” I say. “You knew he was trying to kill you?”
Vexar shrugs, distracted, but he does answer me. “When I discovered I was injured, I suspected he might be responsible.”
“And why do you think Gaius wants you dead?”
He links his fingers together, elbows still caught on theoutside of his knees. “He has long sought control over the trade routes surrounding Calidus, and before my mother died, she promised him a contract that would give him temporary control over those trade routes, but she never delivered. From what I understand, at least.”
He knew Gaius and his mother spoke, and he still didn’t want to believe she was here?Damn.Denial is one hell of a drug.
With a serious expression, he continues. “Gaius knows I will not give him power over those routes, but my sister, Aelrith, who is next in line for the throne,” he sucks in a breath, “is more easily persuaded.”
“So you think he shot you and left you to die over trade routes?”
“He did not leave me to die. He sent me you.”
I laugh, but quickly stop when Vexar’s expression doesn’t soften. “I’m sorry, what?”
“If I am not mistaken, he planned on you entering my cell. He knew if I was injured and a nurse helped me, I would either leave in a body bag or with indisputable evidence of my broken vow.” He pats a hand over the bandage covering his stitches—the ones he got from me, afemalenurse. “If everyone believes I chose my life over my vow, there will be no investigation into my death. It will be seen as a natural consequence of my moral failings.”
I’m stunned silent for a second before I say, “Holy shit.”
“Yes, holy shit.”
