Page 19

Adjusting my grip on his dagger, I shove the blade into his side.

He begins to scream, but it does him little good. My power swallows up the sound.

“Stop fucking with me, and tell me the full plot,” I command, “and maybe I’ll heal this wound.”

He gasps, but an unholy excitement dances in his eyes. “You’ll pay for that later, my queen,” he vows, spitting out my title like it’s an oath.

I twist the knife, and Zosines screams between clenched teeth.

“Answer me.”

“Half of Memnon’s top warriors were in on it. Itaxes, Rakas, Tasios, Palakos, Thiabo, Dzoure—and more,” he gasps out. “You were both to be drugged at dinner. Once you were sedated, the plan was for Eislyn to take Memnon away—she had very specific plans for him—and you were to come with me. But you left dinner early, so here we are. There are five hundred Roman soldiers and mercenaries ready to descend on the palace—if they haven’t already. Another thousand mercenaries, mainly Cimmerians, are at the ready, should anything not go smoothly.”

I try not to feel as hopeless as Zosines is making the situation sound. Memnon has single-handedly defeated worse odds. It’s not over yet.

“What else?” I ask.

Sweat has begun to bead on his forehead, and his breathing is coming in short, shallow pants. “The royal family and any loyalists were to be killed. We can’t have anyone avenging the fallen king and causing unrest.”

Terror rolls through me then. Tamara and Katiari, Memnon’s mother and sister, are certainly at the top of the list.

“What do you get out of it?” I ask.

The corners of Zosines’s mouth twitch and spasm as though he’s trying to hold a gloating smile back. “I would be king.”

Ah, there it is. He sold his dearest friend out for power.

His mouth continues to twitch.

“Anything else?” I prod.

Finally, he adds, “You. I would get you as a war prize.”

My eyebrows lift. Me? It’s such a preposterous thought.

“Why?” I finally ask.

The look in his eyes shifts, turning…covetous is the best word for it. I’ve seen that look from him before. I just never paid it much attention. The man has six wives—already more women than he must know what to do with.If he had it his way, I would be the seventh.

Revulsion moves through me. He clearly never thought this through. I’d curse him to death sooner than he could lay a finger on me.

The distant sounds of commotion grow louder. I think…I think I hear the massive palace doors groaning open. Shit.

“Besides you,” I say, “is anyone else coming for me?”

Zosines laughs. “Everyoneis coming for you. Memnon and your allies are dead. Those who would follow you have perished. Some still sit in that dining hall, their corpses rotting away intheir chairs. Their bodies will remain unburied, their flesh left out to rot. But if you come with me, I can save you. I can make you queen once more.”

Queen? That’s what he intends? If it weren’t for the truth spell, I would doubt his words, especially now that I have buried a dagger in his side.

He must want me for my power. He must think that his benevolence sparing me from certain death tonight will make me feel indebted to him. Such are the ways of Sarmatian warriors. That’s just notmyway.

“This is your only chance to live,” Zosines adds.

His words are punctuated by distant battle cries. The soldiers are inside.

I search his eyes. “You think I am scared of the Romans? Of death? Or that I would cling to my throne if Memnon didn’t sit beside me?” I shake my head. “I would follow him to the ends of the earth. I would follow him even into death. But I think you shall go there first.”

With a flick of my wrist, the power that encircled us now rushes for his head.