CHAPTER THIRTY
It’s the sound that gets my attention. I’m counting the stars when I hear the terrible rattle of his breath. I look over and see he has his hands pressed to his throat. It’s such an unexpected and appalling sight that for half a second, I can’t even think.
So my mother’s poison finally slipped through the cracks.
And then there’s a moment—just a fragment of a moment—where I see it all unfolding: Elvar will die; Max won’t want the throne; the war council will take the easy way out and declare an end to Alexi’s exile; and my brothers will return home. The crown will return to where it should always have been. No war, no battle, no bloodshed. No death except that of the usurper king. Just one man. An easy, quick end. Just the simple solution I came here for.
And all I need to do to achieve it is do absolutely nothing.
So it comes as a shock to me that I can’t. The brief glimpse of the future blinks away, replaced with a terrible horror.
The usurper king was once a boy who just wanted to be worthy.
The usurper king gave me a home.
The usurper king cried when he touched my face.
He was a monster, but now he’s just my uncle.
The pieces in my game of Warlords are all jumbled up, and I don’t know which side is which anymore.
And so, I scream for help.
In the immediate chaos that follows, the world is just snapshots. Max slams a needle into his father’s chest. Voices rise in panic. Guinne pleads with someone to tell her what’s happened. Lord Selwyn tries to soothe her. Max and Rickard crouch on the ground beside the fallen king. Elvar’s hand grabs Max’s wrist and then he goes gray and still.
I snap to life, spinning away from Elvar, and look across the gardens and into the family parlor. Max tested the wine, which means the poison was added to Elvar’s glass afterward. No one has left the room since the servant who poured the wine left, and that was before the test. The person who put the poison into Elvar’s cup is still here.
I dismiss possibilities one by one, until I’m left with only the three guards. Henry and Juniper—they’re loyal to Max and I can’t see any possible way either of them could even know my mother.
But the third guard, oh yes, he’s older. A grizzled bear of a soldier who probably served for years while my father and mother ruled.
His eyes meet mine, and he sees the accusation there. He blanches, his guilt plain, and then he makes for the door.
I pounce. The force sends him to the ground. He grabs a knife from his belt and lashes out. I dodge, but the blow slices my arm open. The pain makes me hiss, but the wound quickly closes up. I spring onto his chest and slam my foot down on his knife hand. He grabs hold of me and throws me down again so hard my head spins. His knife slashes at my throat, but only nicks it.
Then Sybilla is there, a hurricane of rage. She wrenches him away, pushing him against the wall as she draws her sword. He dives at her, but she’s already jumped out of his reach. She spins the sword around and breaks his nose with the hilt. He howls. From the floor, I kick the back of his knee and he buckles. Once he’s down, I twist his knife away and knock him unconscious with the handle. He goes still.
It all happened so quickly that no one else has had a chance to react. Rickard rushes across the room. When he reaches my side, he looks grimly down at the guard and then points at the door. “Henry, Juniper, get rid of him. Allow no one to see him until I’ve dealt with him.”
They obey, faces drawn. I wonder how long it will take before the guard gives up the name of the person who convinced him to try and assassinate the king.
Rickard crouches down next to me, lines of concern scored across his forehead. Rama joins us. “Esmae, are you hurt?”
They both know I can’t stay injured, but there’s admittedly a lot of blood on my sleeve and throat. “I’m fine.” Rama helps me up. I sway unsteadily on my feet. “What happened to Elvar?”
“We’re lucky Max had the stasis serum on hand,” says Rickard. “It only works within the first few moments of an incident like this. He’s frozen Elvar so the poison can’t spread to his heart. Stasis will give the doctors time to identify the toxin and either find or make the antidote.”
I nod, relieved, then look for my uncle. Elvar is cold and gray, a sad, crumpled figure. He doesn’t look like a monster.
I hated him for years. How many times did I picture this? How many times did I wish for it? I could have let him die. I could have let my mother end this conflict.
I didn’t.
I pick my way across the chaos to Max’s side. He’s still with Elvar, his father’s hand still locked in place around his wrist.
“Are you okay?”
He looks pale, shaken, incredulous. He reaches up with his free hand and runs his thumb down my cheek, uncaring of what anyone else might think of the gesture. “Are you?”
I have no idea why he’s so worried. He, too, knows perfectly well I’m protected by the blueflower. “You saved his life, Max.”
“You did, actually. Twice. You saved him the day you warned me about your mother’s plan, and you saved him again today. And you still haven’t answered my question.”
Honestly, why is everyone fussing?
“I’m fine,” I insist.
Even as I say the words, the room tilts. What an inconvenient time for a rock assault.
Only, this time, it’s not a rock assault.
Oh, I think before the room goes black. Damn it.