Dimitrios snapped upright. “No. Why would you even consider such a thing?”
“The gates won’t hold forever, and those people”—he aimed at the main gate—“are out for blood. Yours.”
“Colonel!” A runner burst through the palace doors, breathless. “A missive from the Supreme Commander.”
Nikolas broke the seal and read the contents, his jaw flexing. He swore under his breath.
“What is it?” Dimitrios asked.
Nikolas lowered the parchment, heaving a sigh. “Soterra’s forces have taken the old iron road through the north pass. They’ve set up blockades at the river crossings.”
Dimitrios closed his eyes. “They’re cutting us off.”
“Merchants were already blaming you when this”—he wavedthe parchment around—“was only a possibility. Farmers won’t be able to sell their grain, and traders won’t be able to move their wares. In the end, as far as these people are concerned, Alexandra will be right about you.”
The words struck with precision, but not because they were new. They were already whispered in the halls, in the hush that fell over a room when he entered. Crownless king. Useless.
But it was the crowd’s fear that pressed hardest against him now. They were already gathered, already trembling, already angry. All over rumors.
If they were going to riot, let them riot for the truth.
Dimitrios’s jaw set. “We’ve kept them in the dark.”
Nikolas frowned. “And?”
“It hasn’t worked.” Dimitrios stepped toward the gates, toward the restless swell of his people. “It’s time they hear the truth.” His voice was calm, but his insides vibrated like struck steel. “They deserve to know what we’re up against.”
Nikolas’s brows shot up. “Are youmad?”
Dimitrios’s gaze swept over the crowd, over the guards gripping their spears, over the sky that felt too close. If this failed, if they turned on him, there would be no coming back. No one would remember the man who tried to protect them—only the fool who brought ruin to their gates. But if there was a chance, even the smallest chance, to save them…
“No,” he said, the marble echoing beneath his boots. “I’m their king.”
“I’m their king.”
Milonia’s breath fled her chest. Her heartbeat skittered.
Dimitrios had come far in little time. To think, he was once a man with one foot in another land, heart possessed by ghosts, weak. Someone her father could unseat with little fight.
The man striding toward those people, however,wasa king. Passionately so.
And it might kill him.
One way or another, Dimitrios Vidalatos would fall. If not by blade or riot, then by crown. The kings on this continent would make sure of it.
Milonia stayed hidden in the column’s shadow, breath shaking loose from her chest.
No more.She would not be one of the weapons aimed at his back.
“Momma?”
Milonia flinched. She turned, a smile already in place as she faced her son. “Caius, you shouldn’t be here.”
“But I’m finished.”
“Everythingis packed?” She hooked her hands to her hips. “Don’t forget, we’re not coming back. If you leave it behind,”—her voice threatened to crack—“it’s gone forever.”
Caius frowned, his small nod tight. Silver lined his eyes. “I thought you said we would get to stay for a long time. I like it here.”
