“Revenge.” There is no hesitation. “I want to kill my father.”
He eyes me carefully. “You can barely cope with what happened at the camp.”
“That’s different. Those men were innocent. Hemurderedmy mother. Tormented me with storms for twenty years. I was a tidesdamnedchild. And if that weren’t enough, he molded me into a weapon with his lies.”
A muscle jumps in his cheek. “Fine. And then?”
“I’ll rule Tundrayn.”
“You really believe your people will accept you as queen after you murder their king? After what we did to those warriors?”
I fold my arms over my chest, forcing down the suffocating guilt threatening to choke me. My voice quivers with uncertainty as I say, “They’ll have to.” It comes out as a question, though I meant to be firm. “Who knows what else my father has done? What other atrocities he’s committed? I can’t leave him to rule.”
“And how will you go about this?”
“I don’t know.” I hadn’t given it much thought after the whirlwind of the past twenty-four hours. “Maybe—maybe I’ll return to Arbinj. Make another deal with your father.”
Zev goes completely still. The muscle pulses in his jaw once, twice.
“I won’t tell him about you,” I rush to add. Even in the darkness, his eyes burn with rage. “I can say my father killed you. Or the rebels. Like you said.”
He scoffs. “So clever. So cunning. I was a fool not to see it before.”
His sharp words tear through me like a jagged, rusted blade—they’re true, yet truths often hurt the worst.
“You don’t have to trust me,” I snap. A brisk wind rustles my unbound hair, and I huddle tighter into myself. “But stop pretending I haven’t already proven I’m not your enemy.”
“What makes you think you have?” he growls.
“I healed you every night. I brought you food.”
He scoffs again like it means nothing, like I didn’t risk my life to ensure he survived.
“I didn’t have to. I could’ve let you rot.”
He looks away, but not before I catch the flicker in his eyes.
“But I didn’t,” I press, bracing my forearms on my knees. “Why do you think that is?”
“Because you’re a manipulative liar with your own agenda.” Zev rises to his feet. “Save your breath. I’ll never make the mistake of trusting you again.”
A raindrop lands on my cheek. Then another. I’m grateful I can blame the blurriness in my vision on the rain.
Zev gestures to the tent. “Get in.”
I stare at the small, unassuming canvas structure, barely standing upright. It doesn’t look big enough to fithim, let alone both of us. I don’t want to be in such close quarters with his hatred.
“I’m not sleeping in there with you,” I snap, trying to mask the waver in my voice.
“Why not? We’ve shared a bed before,wife.”
Tides ravage me, he makes that one word drip with poison.
“That was different! I was—”
“Pretending?” he cuts in. “You’re good at it. One more night won’t kill you.”
Without a second glance at me, he ducks into the tent.
