Her mind scrambled for an escape.She took a step backward toward the exit.
“Ah, ah, ah ...” the Giver crooned. “You won’t get past my Recurrence. You might as well sit down, for we need to have a little chat.”
Stupid.She knew the guards looked familiar. Lia couldn’t afford to make such mistakes.
“I’ll stand.” She braced a hand on the table in the middle of the room laden with spirits, hallucinogens, and sweet smoke.
His smile widened and he pulled a handkerchief from his vest pocket to clean off the bloody garrote. Her stomach twisted when crimson stained the white fabric.
The Giver tsked before tossing the soiled pocket square onto the king’s still chest. “This is why I like black ones. They hide the stains better.” He sighed. “I’ll have to speak to my chamberlain about that.”
He spoke so casually about it, like he murdered kings every day. She needed to get out of here now.
“Dahlia dear, I only have so much patience and you’ve already spread mine exceedingly thin.” He sighed, gesturing a hand to Randa. “I mean look at the mess you’ve made.”
She narrowed her gaze, her heart racing. “Do you really think you can pin that on me? Randa was twice my size. Plus, why would his daughter hurt him? That doesn’t make any sense. You’re grasping at straws, Adder. I came in peace.”
“But did you really?” His lips twitched in amusement. “What would happen I wonder if the Frost King discovered you killed the true princess and assumed her identity?”
Keep calm. “I did no such thing.”
He snagged the crown off Randa’s head and kicked his father off the throne, the body rolling onto the floor. The Giver hopped onto the throne and sat in it, tossing one of his legs over the arm. “What would happen if the Asteran people discovered you killed not only one but two of their monarchs?”
Don’t break. Lia shrugged and adjusted the chair next to her hip.Turn it on him.“No one will miss Randa. From all accounts he was a brute with a deviant streak leagues wide. There is no love lost between my people and the royals. There have even been rumors about bastard children begotten on very unwilling mothers, some were prisoners in his own dungeon. You were of these, were you not?”
It was a stab in the dark, but it hit its mark. Adder froze for just a second and his hand twitched. She’d struck a nerve. While she’d been forced to visit him weekly to repay her debt for almost a year, Lia had been studying the Giver. He had a tell. His hands clenched when he was surprised, upset, or angry.
He chuckled and arched a brow at her. “And here I was worried you wouldn’t be able to play my games. It seems the Loriian court has taught you a few things. How delightful for us both.”
“Perhaps, but let’s get back to our former conversation. You have every reason to hate him. He might be your father?—”
“Sire,” he corrected with an impish smile.
“Sire,” Lia allowed, inching up her skirt so she could move a bit more freely.
“You didn’t know you sire either, did you Dahlia?”
She frowned at him. What did that have to do with anything?He’s trying to distract you.Ignore him.
“But you could hang for this as much as I could if it ever really came to anything which it won’t. The people are rebelling.” She mirrored his expression, arching a brow of her own. “You and I know it is only a matter of time before someone else takes the throne. Like your actual sister.”
“Half-sister, darling. I have many half siblings.”
She frowned. He was being peculiar. More peculiar than normal. “What are you really after, Adder?”
He touched one of the scars on his cheek. The ones she’d given him. “A little payback, a little business, and maybe a little pleasure.”
An explosion rumbled the ground and the Giver sat upright.
That was her cue.
Lia used the chair to get on top of the table.
Adder grinned even though tension had crept into his shoulders. He didn’t know why there were explosions. But she did. Mercenaries were only loyal to coin. She’d offered them more than the Asterans and reminded them they hadn’t been paid. Mercenaries tended to act like toddlers when they weren’t compensated on time.
“Flower, what do you think you’re going to do from up there?” He sighed, his gaze flicking past her. Who was he waiting for? No one entered the tent. Just where were his henchmen?
The Giver sighed. “My pragmatic flower turning into a dramatic little sister. How unfortunate.”
