Page 32

I arrived to the dining room exactly on time, and yet I was the last to walk in. Two men sat across from Sabium. Both of them had attempted to dress as royalty, but the first man’s cloak, though a vibrant shade of crimson, was made of a fabric that lacked the depth and sheen of true velvet, and it hung a little too loosely on his shoulders.

His doublet, while intricately embroidered, featured patterns that were a tad too garish, with the gold threads overly bright. His circlet, though golden, was too thick to suit him, and sat awkwardly on his head.

The second man’s robe of emerald silk was too shiny, suggesting a poor quality of silk. The silver embroidery was overdone, and his vest was buttoned unevenly, giving him a disheveled look. The ceremonial dagger at his belt was overly ornate, bordering on theatrical.

Idiots.

Slowly, I walked to the empty chair as a servant pulled it out for me.

“My queen, Kaliera.” Sabium’s eyes met mine. I searched his face but saw nothing more than the same amused disinterest I’d seen for years. “And this is Zathrian.” He waved his hand toward the man in the crimson cloak sitting across from him.

I knew that name. How did I know that name?

“The true ruler of the hybrid kingdom,” Sabium continued, and I went still.

Zathrian’s resemblance to Prisca was evident around his mouth and chin. But his eyes were cold.

I had spent most of my life anticipating Sabium’s decisions. And yet, I couldn’t have anticipated this.

He hated the fae. But heloathedthe hybrids. Hestill ranted about his once-spectacular capital city and the bitch queen who had spent her last moments ensuring it would be forever cursed.

Deep down, his loathing was hiding fear. Which made him all the more dangerous.

I took my seat. Zathrian raised his cup in my direction. “Majesty.”

His casual demeanor irritated me, and I kept my expression blank as I nodded at him, turning my attention to the man at his side in the poor-quality silk.

He was a well-groomed, attractive man with eyes so dead, it was as if I were looking at a corpse.

“And this,” Sabium said, his voice lowering dangerously, “is Eadric. The man responsible for my spider’s death and the hybrid heir’s escape.”

Zathrian’s mouth twisted and then straightened. It was a movement so quick I almost missed it. He didn’t like Prisca being referred to as the hybrid heir. Sabium’s cold smile told me he’d caught it too.

“Apologies have been given and accepted,” Zathrian said, his expression neutral.

Sabium nodded at Eadric. “I still want him punished.”

Amusement glinted in Eadric’s eyes, and he sipped his wine.

Why did he not seem at all fearful of Sabium?

“He has already been punished,” Zathrian said. “Need I remind you that you were unaware Eadric was mine? I was kind enough to share that information with you.”

My heart stopped. Sabium prided himself on his ability to slip his own people into foreign courts and toturn the most loyal in those courts to his side. But Zathrian had done the reverse to him, sneaking Eadric in among his people.

Soon, both men would be very, very dead. But clearly, Sabium could see some benefit to working with Prisca’s cousin in the short term.

Even I had to admit it was a good plan.

“And yet, there is something much more important to discuss,” Sabium said. “Your failure to kill the Bloodthirsty Prince.”

“Ourfailure,” Zathrian said mildly, although fury burned in his eyes. “You told me your little mirror would work.”

“It did work. You were supposed to prevent that bitch from freezing time and saving her lover. Instead, the barrier fell, the power returned to the people, and my son is currently a captive, with no hope of release.”

My breath almost caught in my throat. My blood had turned to ice, my face turning numb. But I forced myself to keep my expression neutral.

Zathrian angled his head, watching me closely, and I raised one eyebrow, forcing myself to take a bite.