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“You’ll get what you’ve given, thief.”

“Fuck that little whore queen good for me tonight, my king.”

And far worse than that.

It was so bizarre.

Most, if notall, of the people within this prison were born long after I’d become king of Matriaza. Yet they spewed the same despicable rhetoric my people had yelled at me when I first took my brother’s throne.

I could understand treating me this way if I’d personally attacked them or someone they loved, but I hadn’t. Neither had Véa. For thousands of years, we lived miniscule lives.

We tended to the mortals. We taught them to till soil and harvest crops. We showed them how to preserve food and build homes.

All we had done since we’d given power of Matriaza to Usui was live. We’d dismantled the systems of oppression on Matriaza, but we’d done so in a mostly peaceful manner. I’d only killed people who threatened my family.

I was not an evil king. I hadn’t wanted the power to begin with. All I’d wanted was for my people to have food, and access to healers, and homes, and women to have rights, and no one to be owned, and…

I’d done nothing wrong.

Even Lux accepted that. He’d told me a thousand times that Véa and I’d made Matriaza a better world than it was when we were born into it.

Yet Lux’s sons convinced their people that we were their enemy.

Véa was right.

The boys hadn’t only wanted to rule. They wanted to rule by any means necessary. They filled their people with hatred, useless hatred at that, just so they’d have an army willing to kill us.

Why the fuck did they need us out of the way so badly?

“He hasn’t spoken a word,” the guard said as we approached. “I don’t know what you wanna ask him about, but I’ll be shocked if he speaks at all.”

“Thank you,” was all Lux said. “Leave us, please.”

He dipped his head in a slight bow as he walked past me.

On my right was a door as tall as me, twice my width, and at least a fist deep of Elvan ore. It was all that could hurt an Angel, and all that could contain them.

Through the metal bars in the hole at my head’s height, I peered inside. Elvan ore walls. Elvan ore floor.

The bed was a mattress on the ground. A bucket sat in the corner. Books were stacked along the walls.

Michael stood before the window with bars of Elvan ore. His posture was strong, shoulders broad, chin high.

“Why?” I asked. “Why did you do this?”

“Because it had to be done.”

“Why?” I repeated. “I don’t understand, Michael. What did I do to you? What did your aunt do? What about my father? That man loved you, and—”

“And he was weak. So are you. All three of you.” He still stared out the window. “All twenty-four of you.”

Rolling his eyes, Rafael raised his thumb and forefinger to rub them.

“Oh? Because I don’tenjoytorture? Because I—”

“Yes.” Slowly, he turned to face us. “Yes, Nix. Because you all are whiny and pathetic. You can’t rule. You can’t lead an army. You can’t be a king.”

“Is that how you see me?” I squinted him over. “Is that how you see all of us? Kings, queens?”