“What business did you have taking Rowenna if you couldn’t keep her safe?” Haddesh retorts, waving a muscled arm at the coffin. “How dare you bring her back like this?”
“How dare you address the king of an allied nation with such disrespect?” King Soren volleys back.
Father stumbles forward, grabs the younger, but much larger, boy by the elbow, and tugs him back. “Forgive Haddesh,” Father says to Soren. “He means no disrespect. He’s simply in shock. He and Rowenna were friends—”
“Why areyouapologizing whentheyfailed to keep Ro safe?” Haddesh wrenches free from Father’s grip. “And we weren’t just friends. I was inlovewith her.” His voice breaks on the wordlove, and he looks defiantly at Soren. “I would have married her if you hadn’t taken her captive.”
Father darts a glance at Soren and laughs nervously. “The Vanzadorians didn’t take anyone captive. Both nations agreed to the terms of the treaty. This was a tragic accident. If anything, Soren deserves our gratitude for returning Rowenna’s body. They were under no obligation to do so.”
Droplets of sweat fly from Haddesh’s wet hair as he furiously shakes his head. “Do you hear yourself? The treaty mentioned nothing about Ro’s body because her safety was guaranteed, so long as the bagrava shipments arrived on schedule. Which they have! We’ve done nothing wrong!Shedid nothing wrong. Act like a true king for once, and defend your own daughter!”
Father flinches, but Haddesh doesn’t apologize, and none of the courtiers or ministers come to Father’s defense. Mother and me included.
Father has always been soft-spoken and unassuming, humble and hardworking. His kind heart and gentle demeanor are the reason our people adore him, and up until he sent Rowenna to Vanzador, I pridedmyself on being more like him. We were the calm waters to Mother and Rowenna’s raging fire. But now I see these attributes for the weaknesses they are. Father’s blind trust and endless compassion are the reason the Marauders and Vanzadorians take advantage of Tashir. He’s the reason Ro felt the need to push herself so hard, to learn everything about politics and ruling the kingdom, so she could better serve our people someday.
And now, she’ll never get to.
Because Soren knew how formidable she was. He knew he would never be able to bully Ro into submission the way he has Father. That’s why he took her captive—to ensure she’d never become queen of Tashir. And Father didn’t even try to protect her.
Hestillisn’t trying.
“Look at them!” Haddesh explodes, swinging his poker erratically. The nearest courtiers shriek and scatter, but his steely eyes remain focused on Soren and Alaric, who have been exchanging bemused glances. “They’re clearlyenjoyingthis. Rowenna’s death was no accident. They murdered her in cold blood!”
“I would beverycareful with your baseless accusations,” Soren warns.
Alaric steps up beside his father. “We provided Rowenna with the finest care and hospitality—a wardrobe fit for a queen, the most delectable food and drink Vanzador has to offer, maids who tended to her every need, and guards appointed solely for her protection. There’s nothing more we could have done.”
He says all the right things in his honey-smooth voice and flashes a smoldering smile that undoubtedly bends most people to his will, but it doesn’t fool Haddesh.
Or me.
Not anymore.
I’m ashamed to admit I once found the Vanzadorian prince attractive. Beyond horrified I let myself be taken in by his sharp cheekbones andeven sharper wit when he visited Tashir with his father when we were young. Back then, I couldn’t fathom how Rowenna could possibly prefer Haddesh, with his black fingernails and rough manners, to Alaric’s glittering eyes and cut-marble chest. But Rowenna was always more perceptive than me. She saw through to the core of each boy—brave, passionate, and loyal Haddesh. Cruel, arrogant, and conniving Alaric.
“We often reminded Rowenna the mountains were treacherous for someone unused to the steep terrain,” Alaric continues with a theatrically somber expression, “especially for someone so clumsy. But she refused to heed our warnings and tumbled over a cliff edge.”
Mother gasps into the back of her hand, and Father’s face drains of blood. The courtiers shake their heads and murmur things like “How horrible,” and “Can you imagine?”
But I barely hear any of it over the high-pitched ringing in my ears. My pulse beats against my temples as my heart thrashes around my rib cage.
Alaric is lying.
I know it bone-deep—the way I know when a new shoot emerges from a bagrava seed, no matter that it happens a foot belowground.
No one who’s met Rowenna would ever describe her as clumsy. She has always been as nimble as a barn cat, slipping out of our bedroom windows and navigating the mossy slope of the hillock palace with ease. Or running full tilt across the top of the narrow stone walls surrounding the bagrava beds.Iwas the one who ended up with bloody scrapes and unsightly bruises when I tried to follow her. The only way Ro would havetumbledover a cliff is if someone pushed her.
Haddesh’s nostrils flare, and the terrifying glint in his eyes tells me he’s arrived at the same conclusion. “I thinkyoupushed her off that cliff,” he says, taking a bold step closer to Alaric.
The Vanzadorian prince brings a dramatic hand to his chest. “Are you accusing me of murdering my own wife?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
There’s a moment of stillness, like a storm holding its breath before lightning forks across the sky, and Rowenna’s voice crackles through the charged silence.
Stop him, Indira!
But it’s too late.
