Hasan and Zeyar shared another look. This time, they didn’t bother to hide their expressions from her. They wore their disbelief in their raised eyebrows and closed mouths.
“And how,” Zeyar drawled, “do you intend to manage that?”
Poppy lifted her chin slightly, doing her best to project confidence despite being pinned to the ground. “By allying myself with you.”
Silence followed her proposition. For a moment, both men stared at her. She held their gazes, not letting her eyes wander down to the blade pressing against her stinging thumb.
Zeyar cracked first, his lips twitching. A small muffled noise escaped the back of his throat, and then he and Hasan were laughing, their shoulders shaking. She stared at them both in disbelief.
“You’re laughing.” Poppy glared. “The future vicereine of this colony has just offered to ally herself with you, and you’re laughing.”
This, for some reason, only made them laugh harder. Zeyar’s grip on her arm loosened, and she wrenched it free, cradling her wounded thumb. Her face burned, but she sat upright and crossed her arms as she waited for them to stop conducting themselves like children.
Finally, they managed to rein themselves in. “Be reasonable,” Zeyar said. “You are a woman. A Virian woman, besides. This colony has never had a female, non-Welkish viceroy in its history. Richard will be viceroy, and you will be his marchioness.”
Defiance streaked through Poppy.We’ll see about that.“Why should he be viceroy?” she demanded. “I am my father’s child, not he.”
“Isn’t it enough to be his wife?” Zeyar smirked. “You were found on the streets, and now you wear silks and walk on the arm of the nobility’s golden boy.”
“Itwasenough for me,” she said, “but then I found out what he was planning.”
Hasan’s sharp eyes gleamed with interest. “So this is about revenge, then? Tit for tat?”
She paused, considering that. “Yes,” she said. “But it’s also about so much more. This ismyhome. I have been exiled once, and it led me to lose everything.” Poppy set her jaw. “I will not be forced out again. Not when I have worked so hard for this. What qualification do I lack?” She held up her fingers as she counted, “I am well educated, well read, well spoken. I can do arithmetic twice as fast as most of the sons of the First Families. The only skills I lack are physical prowess, but marksmanship and self-defense can be learned, and I am a quick study.” She squared her shoulders and straightened her spine. “I would make a better ruler than most.”
“Why ally with us?” Hasan pressed. “If you are so qualified, why not just ask your father to name you explicitly in the line of succession?”
“It will be contested,” Poppy admitted. “A viceroy’s word does not become law just because he says so. All legal motions must be voted upon in the House of Representatives. Even if the motion to make me the official heir passes there, the Council of Lords must vote on it, too, before my father can finalize it with royal assent. And it will certainly fail, because the lords and most of the representatives have the same old-fashioned mindset as your brother.” She tossed a disapproving look in Zeyar’s direction.
Zeyar tucked his hands into his pockets. “You can impugn my character all you wish, Miss Sutherland. It will not change the fact that, to society at large, you are not a suitable successor. And you have no manpower to force the issue, either, which is why you wish to ally with us, is it not?”
She nodded. Zeyar may have been obstinate, but at least he saw the plan clearly. “Richard has his police force. You and Hasan have your gang. We are evenly matched should this contest of wills turn violent, though I hope that it doesn’t lead to that.”
“What do we get in exchange?” Hasan pressed. His mouth curved in a half smile, as though recalling an inside joke. “This isn’t a charity.”
She couldn’t tell if he was pulling her leg, but a spark of hope ignited in her chest. “I’ll give you your brother back. And I would turn a blind eye to your future smuggling operations.”
“That’s not good enough,” Zeyar said. “We could likely negotiate the same things from Montrose once he gets a couple of your fingers.”
She clearly wouldn’t get anywhere with him; his mind was set. She turned to Hasan.
He was silent, studying his reflection in the blade, deep in thought. Then, he spoke, still looking at his reflection, his expression neutral. “It’s a family business,” he said evasively. “I don’t make the decisions alone.”
“Take her thumb,” Zeyar said. “Enough dallying.”
In that moment, she made a crucial mistake: She thought Hasan would defy Zeyar’s order, so she was entirely unguarded when he snatched her hand, unable to draw back before he pressed the knife back to the thin cut he’d made earlier. As he dug the blade in deeper, she shrieked. Her hand burned with pain on a level she had never experienced before.
“Stop!” Poppy played her last card, the one secret she’d thought she’d take to the grave. “I have powers, just like you!”
Hasan’s hand stilled. Her blood trickled down her wrist and over his fingers, but he didn’t seem to notice.
Before he could resume cutting, she spoke, the confession rushing out. “I can control water,” she blurted, “but it causes me intense pain each time I do it.”
Hasan’s jaw dropped, then snapped shut just as quickly. She relished his shock. She could see his mind racing behind furrowed brows. “So that was what you meant in the museum, when you said I was like you.” His eyes narrowed. “That day in the cell.Youmade the pipe burst. That was why you looked ill. You’d overextended.”
“I don’t know how you can use your powers without hurting yourselves, but if you showed me, then I could help you. We’re in the midst of dry season, on the verge of a drought?—surely you could benefit from having your own,exclusivewater source. Richard may be a Welkish man, but even he can’t give youthat.”
Hasan stared at her for a good second. She held his gaze evenly, until finally he turned to Zeyar. “We should?—”
