After a few tense moments with no reply, the commander continued, “Which made it easier to put off unpleasant truths.”
Truths.“Where is the queen?” Had she been killed too?
“She’s on her way here. Under escort. She’d decided to—”
“Run, and to hell with anyone else?” Yarif froze. Those were treasonous words to say against the queen consort. Oh, well. She’d abandoned her children and tried to save her own wretched neck. Yarif had no respect at all for the woman or her title. For Emile and Adrina’s sake, he asked, “Is she well? Unharmed?”
Commander Draylon inclined his head. “She is. Whether she remains so is entirely up to her.”
“Then I don’t extend much hope. For the children’s sake, I pray she cooperates.” Yarif longed to claw the words back even as they left his mouth.
Surprise briefly flickered across the commander’s face. “She’s not your mother?”
“No. She’s my father’s fourth consort. My mother was his second. His first wife bore my two older brothers.” Why was Yarif volunteering information? He knew better. Must be shock and exhaustion. “What will be done with the children?”
The commander cocked an eyebrow. “You’re unconcerned with your own fate.”
Yarif barked out a humorless laugh. “My fate is pretty obvious.” In fact, why hadn’t they killed him yet? “If there’s any way to ensure the safety of my brother and sister, I’ll do so.” The odds were against him, but if he grabbed a knife, timed his movements right…
One dead barbarian. But someone might harm the children in retaliation.
The commander and captain exchanged glances. Yarif might believe them to be brothers if they appeared more alike. The twins communicated silently sometimes.
The commander finally said, “Your fate is in the hands of the emperor. However, he is a reasonable man. If he makes any offers, I’d take them.”
What kind of offers could the emperor make to possibly spare Yarif’s life? Even if Yarif abdicated the throne, his very existence endangered any plans to put another in his place. While the people might not have liked Father much, many nobles vied for his favor, and even disgruntled, the people held the DiRici name in high esteem. As long as Yarif lived, they’d want to see him on the throne, make their own claims, or throw their lot in with one of Father’s bastards. “I’ll take your words under advisement. Now, why have you brought me here?”
“As I said, sit.” The raised eyebrow spoke clearer than words that, this time, the commander wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Stubbornness would accomplish nothing. Yarif sat stiffly.
Commander Draylon leaned forward, resting a pair of powerful forearms on the table. While he appeared to have made an effort at cleaning, flecks of blood showed clearly on his tunic and under his fingernails.
Yarif’s stomach soured. Anyone’s he knew?
“Your father is no longer king. Several loyal to him have forfeited their lives. Others are being… detained. Tell me why you shouldn’t join them. What was your role in their plot against the emperor?”
Ah, so now they settled down to business. If this barbarian expected Yarif to plead for his life, they’d only waste time. “If you want information about my father’s dealings, then best to kill me now. He didn’t take me into his confidence.”
The commander snorted. “You expect me to believe you?”
“I don’t care what you believe. It’s the truth.”
“Who else was involved? I want names.”
Now came Yarif’s turn to snort. “How can I know involvement when I never knew what they planned?” The news only reached him when Cormiran soldiers appeared at their border.
“How convenient. You’re next in line to the throne with the two higher-ranking royals dead. You ambitious little princelings will stop at nothing to get your way.”
Days of rage and living in fear wrapped Yarif in their iron grip. “How dare you suggest I’d wish my own father and brother killed! That may be the way of Cormir, but here we respect both king and kin!” One guard behind him took a step closer.
The commander stopped the guard with a wave of his hand. “The DiRici name will evermore be tied with treason. Your father betrayed both his kin and his country.”
“I am not my father!”
“No. Your father is dead.”
“Did you kill him personally?” Yarif forced out from between clenched teeth, unsure whether or not he wanted an answer.
