His eyes are sad, but a corner of his mouth tips up wryly. “I believe I still owe you one true thing. What do you want to know?”
I don’t even have to think about what to ask. “Why do you want to be Praeceptor? The truth this time.”
He nods, as if he expected this question. “When my mom died, my world ended. It felt like I died with her. But my father . . . his life stayed exactly the same. I hated him for it. Not just because her death was his fault, but because he didn’t even care. I wanted to do the same. Destroy something he loved,then force him to wake up every day knowing he was as worthless as he made us feel.”
“You want to be Praeceptor to make him angry?”
“I wanted to force him to watch me win a position he could never hold. I wanted him to see the bastard son he hated more powerful than he ever was.” Kaidren leans closer to my ear, as though whispering a secret. “You know what my first act as Praeceptor will be?”
“What?”
“Dismantling the Honorate.” Kaidren’s laugh is devoid of humor. “He cared so damn much about honor and legacy, but there’s not a shred of honor among any of them. I wanted to watch as he saw his own name unmake a system he loved. I’d hoped he’d live to see it, but it doesn’t matter. He believed in the stars and hell, and I believe that when I’m Praeceptor, he’ll writhe in the afterlife, just as he deserves. When I join him down there, I’ll have the final laugh.”
A saner person might find his admission unsettling, but I burrow deeper into his chest, unable to hide a grin.
“That didn’t scare you off?”
“I don’t scare easily. You want to take over the world for revenge? I can’t think of a better motive.”
He laughs.
Before, when he described his plans as Praeceptor, when he spoke of improving the Honorate to improve Virdei, it was always a lie. Because he has no intentions of making the Honorate better. He means to destroy it completely.
“What are your plans for this new Virdei?” I ask.
“Everything I promised. But I won’t use the Honorate to do it.”
For a few beats, we say nothing.
“Tell me something,” says Kaidren quietly. “Not as part ofan exchange. Not because you owe me anything. Just tell me something true about you.”
I think about it. “My favorite food is goat stew. And I really like honey cakes.”
“I didn’t imagine you as someone who likes sweets.”
“Why?” I tease. “Because I’m a conniving bitch?”
He laughs so hard he presses his face into my hair to muffle the sound. “Tell me something else.”
“You were my first kiss.”
His face lights up. “And your second.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling.
“More,” he says demandingly.
“Now you’re just being greedy.”
He grins but doesn’t say anything. Just waits expectantly for me to answer him.
I turn over my thoughts, trying to come up with something he might like to know. As I watch him, and he watches me, I realize there’s only one thing I need him to hear before everything between us changes once again. “Whatever happens when we get back, I don’t hate you.”
His happiness dims with the bleak reminder that none of this is real. Just a moment in between. “I don’t hate you either.”
Neither of us says it, but we both know there’s more:I don’t hate you. But if that’s what it takes to win, I’ll fight you as if I do.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
