“The king will grant us access to the catacombs tomorrow,” he said quietly. “He has the authority to override the Temple’s restrictions.”
“Oh.” I tilted my head. “Well, that’s good.”
“It is.” He wasn’t meeting my eyes. All the assurance he’d had in the ballroom was gone, replaced by this strange tension and his suddenly monotone voice.
“It is a large favor,” he said. “Tensions between the crown and the Temple are high. But he has granted it.”
“And why would the king do that for you?” I ventured.
Patrick crossed to the window and gazed out, hands clasped behind his back. His voice was too even when he spoke, as if rehearsed. “Not for me. For you.”
“Why?”
He turned then, resting his hands on the back of an armchair and meeting my gaze fully. His hazel eyes were steady, but there was a flicker of something in them—some emotion I could not define.
“The king wants to secure the throne. And you could do that for him.”
“He already has the throne.”
“But it is precarious. The high lords are snapping at the palace gates. The Temple’s influence grows. The king is sick. He needs to cement his place.”
Silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Why did he keep such a white-knuckled grip on the chair back as he stood there? Why did he look at me with such a strange hunger?
“What are you talking about?”
He released the chair and took a step forward, so suddenly that I flinched.
“Your power isn’t just rare. It’s … unprecedented,” he said. “Ban Morin wants it. The Temple will want it, if they haven’t caught wind of it already. But the king—” He paused, jaw clenching. “He’s our best chance at peace. If the power of the monarchy were secured,strengthened, the Temple and the high lords who clamor for the king’s place would have to subside.”
“So you want me to help the king …?” I frowned, shaking my head. “I barely understand my own power. How can I …?”
He turned abruptly from me. “I want you tomarrythe king,” he said, his voice becoming all at once clipped and more formal. My stomach dropped.
“Marry?” I repeated stupidly.
“He may be dying, and the kingdom is hanging by a thread. If the high lords or the Temple gain control, it will all collapse. If you align with him …”
“Aligning is one thing. Why would I have tomarryhim? Why is everyone so set on marrying me off?”
“It is a holy bond—the only bond that neither the nobility nor the Temple can contest.”
“You sound just like Milady right now, do you know that?”
“I have seen you heal. I have seen you cheat death itself. You are his only chance at survival. Thekingdom’sonly chance at survival.”
I swallowed, a convulsive movement. “And if I can’t heal him?”
“Then you will be queen.”
My vision went white, then cleared. I felt suddenly cold. “I don’t want to be queen.”
“Netta …”
“This has been your plan all along,” I said.
“No! Not until I realized how exceptional—”
“What use will I be to him when I can’t even cast a spell?”
