“Like everyone is afraid of me.”
He winks. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“Nor am I,” a voice says at the door, and I smile at Amma, who is carrying a steaming plate of food: a large serving of her famous roasted crushed tomatoes with onion and salted fish, and fresh, flaky layers of piping-hot flatbread. My mouth instantly waters. Normally she’s very strict about only allowing food downstairs, but she must be making an exception, given recent events.
“Thanks, Amma,” I say, and sit at my desk to eat while she perches on the edge of my bed. I break off a piece of the flatbread and dip it in the sauce before popping it in my mouth. Maker above, there’s nothing like a home-cooked meal to make a girl feel cherished, especially one from Amma. My eyes sting again.
“How are you holding up, love?” she asks.
“Better now,” I say through another mouthful. I swallow. “But I wish I were staying here longer. I miss... home.”
She frowns. “Why can’t you?”
I exhale. “I promised the king that I would stand by his side, to present a clear message and ensure the peace. You saw what happened here with the assassins. He needs my help to keep the houses in line.”
“Is that what you want?” my father asks, moving to sit next to Amma. “Kaldari is still a pit of vipers, and I have no trust in a system that aims to govern without counterbalances.”
His opinion on the capital as well as the monarchy doesn’t surprise me, considering how much persecution he and my mother faced running away with me. My father has always been a rebel. “Still riding against the monarchy, Papa?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Tyranny is born when service cedes to control and duty falls to power. There are those of us who keep a close watch on the seeds of oppression being sowed.”
“Roshan isn’t like that. He wants peace.”
“That may be. But he is using you—andfear—to gain it,” Papa says, face fierce with concern for me. “I ask again: Is that what you want? Because if it isn’t, I will find a way to keep you here, even if it means going against the king.”
“Always my greatest defender,” I murmur.
I keep eating, mulling over my jumbled thoughts. I’m sick of Kaldari, of being constantly followed, of obeying all these new rules for my supposed safety, of being stared at and whispered about. Not that the latter wouldn’t happen here, especially after last night, but at least I’ve known these people my whole life.
“I love him,” I say eventually. “And he loves me. I have to believe that all of this is temporary, and the sooner it’s behind us, the faster we can move on to living our lives.”
I know the moment I say it that it’s a naive, wishful stance. There’s no way that either of us, especially a king with a kingdom to rule, will ever get tolive our lives. As Papa alluded to before, duty will always take precedence—a good ruler is first and foremost in service to his people.
And despite recent events, Roshan needs me.
“The truth is I can’t abandon him,” I admit. “He’s lost the only family he had, and the only one who ever protected him was his father.” I glance at mine. “I suppose he has Aran, his cousin, whom you’ve met, Papa. I saw the two of you talking for a while.”
“The Lord Chancellor seems like a man of honor,” my father says. “A bit idealistic, with grandiose notions of the perfect egalitarian society, but he promises to keep an eye on things. He also promised to send me regular reports and make sure that the king treatsyouwell. He told me that you’ve been excelling in your magical studies.”
I lift one shoulder and mop up the rest of the sauce with the last piece of flatbread. “I don’t know about excelling, but he’s a good teacher. I’m learning more about my magic every day.”
Papa wrinkles his nose and scrubs a palm over his bushy beard. “He has strong views about the gods. He insists that Saru is trapped somewhere, which was why the queen nearly succeeded at bringing Fero’s return. Says he’s scouring the history books for any mention of the hand of Saru. Some god-touched sword that has been missing for centuries that can be used to banish a god for good.”
“Agod-touchedsword?” I echo, frowning. Saru has been in god-sleep since the hundred years’ war when he vanquished his twin brother, Fero.
“Indeed. There was a prophecy connected to it, too. Something about godslayers and lightbreakers and killing blades.” He shrugs. “You know I don’t believe in any of that soothsayer nonsense.”
I let out a disbelieving huff of laughter. “Papa, Iamone of those prophecies. I’m the Starkeeper, remember?”
My father folds his arms over his chest. “Speaking of that, he also told me how you brought the king back from the dead with your magic.”
“He did?” Dread fills me at the memory. Shuddering, I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood. “I’ve never felt darkness like that, Papa. The queen... she nearly undid... everything Mama tried to do...” I trail off, my throat tightening at the recollection of her mottled skin and bloodred eyes, and the foul essence of the nebulous god she’d summoned. I’d comesoclose to dying.
“Sura.” Amma lets out a distressed noise as if sensing my terror. Considering my mother was her sister, she would have known about Queen Morvarid’s vile magic.
“I still feel like Fero is here sometimes, in the dead of night,” I confess. “That I never quite got rid of him. That he’s watching... and waiting... to strike when I least expect it.”
“He can’t hurt you, Sura,” my father says.
