Despite all he’d been through with the people in this room, whocouldhe trust? Selene and Augustus, surely, though the captain would snatch Selene and flee before putting either of them in the middle of this. The pirate was likely already devising a quick escape.
Lazaros? Dimitrios would be a fool to trust a man whose loyalty shifted so readily.
Nikolas… He didn’t know him—not really. Milonia, either.
Oskar had informants right under his nose and hadn’t said a fucking word. He trusted the Blade wouldn’t kill him, but he didn’t love that his every move was likely reported.
The Ranger, Blaze, smirked as he studied everyone’s dour expressions.
“Why are you here?” Dimitrios asked.
“Oh!” He sat forward. “We took care of your oxbeast infestation, but we’re still owed half what we were promised.”
Dimitrios closed his eyes and summoned images of the Gabrea lands: the warm sun on the back of his neck, the laughter of a dozen children carried on the wind from the main house, and Sophia striding toward him with a basket hooked to her arm, her smile and eyes warm. An easy life surrounded by his family and love and unwavering trust.
“I can take care of that,” Milonia said.
Her lyrical tones loomed over his warm memories like a shadow he needed to investigate. She motioned for the Ranger to stand and follow her from the room, which, thankfully, he did without hesitation.
At the exit, she turned and bowed her head. “Your Majesty.”
Milonia’s head rose, her gaze locking with his.
Turn, turn, turn, he wanted to say.Leave.Look away.
Spare me this.
But she didn’t. And neither did he.
The warmth of a sun slid into place inside his chest, consuming andunwanted. The old wound there, stitched too quickly, too haphazardly, pulled at the seam.
He broke the stare, and the snap felt like breaking the surface of water and gasping for air. “Thank you,” he muttered.
Then she was gone, and he was overwhelmed suddenly by the number of bodies in the room, which included three Blade assassins—four if he were to count Selene—a pirate, a traitor, and a commander. Veritable strangers, and none of them family.
Pandora’s advice whispered through the cacophony.“You need allies, and who better than your own blood?”
He had family in Perean, whether they cared to admit it or not, and Pandora believed her siblings would offer the support he needed. Her father would be the outlier and apparently kept a tight command of the family, but maybe his mother was right. Maybe it was time for him and the Nicoleas to meet.
Dimitrios turned to Nikolas. “I need to travel to Braryn. Can you make the arrangements?”
“Now?” He blinked rapidly, mouth in a half-smirk. “With everything going on?”
Dimitrios exhaled sharply. “Whatever power I have is evaporating beneath my feet. If I wait any longer, I won’t be securing my throne—I’ll be fighting to take it back.”
Nikolas’s only response was to nod. He knew almost better than anyone how fragile Dimitrios’s stance was now.
Oskar took half a step forward and motioned at the two Blades with him. “My men will travel with you.”
“Good idea,” Selene said. “Just in case any of the palace guards have been bought and maneuver their way onto your detail.”
Nikolas scoffed. “I think I can judge my own men for myself.”
“Tell that to Mihail Vidalatos,” she shot back.
Dimitrios flinched. His birth father had traitors in his protective detail who worked for Orestis Vidalatos, and they faked Mihail’s assassination and killed many good men.
“We shouldn’t put blind faith in anyone,” Lazaros said. “Not where the king’s life is concerned.”
