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King Harristan’s eyes search my face, and his expression shifts in a way that makes me think he can read every thought I’m not voicing. “Yes, he was.” He holds out a hand to indicate a chair. “Sit.”

I have to force my feet to move. He’s watching me, and after the way he said, I know you heard me, I don’t want to make him wait again. He eases into the chair at the head of the table, but I drop into mine so quickly that I have to grab the edge of the table to keep from upending the chair.

Almost as if by some unseen signal, the footman moves out of the corner. He was standing so silently that I almost forgot he was there. He sets two glass goblets in front of us, then two china cups on delicate saucers. First the king, then me. He pours water into the goblets, and then tea into the cups. The tea is dark gray and smells heavenly. The footman pours milk into the king’s tea and adds a small spoonful of sugar, then glances at me. “Milk and sugar, miss?”

I have no idea, but following the king’s lead doesn’t sound like a bad plan. “Yes. Please. Sir.”

Once he’s returned to the corner, King Harristan traces a finger around the rim of his cup but doesn’t take a sip. “Did you know my father?”

It’s a ridiculous question, but it sounds genuine, so I shake my head. “No. No, Your Majesty.”

“It’s easy to love your king when everyone is well fed and healthy,” he says. “A bit harder when everyone is . . . ?not.”

He doesn’t say this in an arrogant way. More . . . ?contemplative. He’s so severe that sentimentality takes me by surprise. I’m not sure how to respond.

He finally takes a sip of his tea. “Corrick tells me that you steal medicine and distribute it.”

I freeze with my hand on the cup.

“You slipped into the palace, and your life has been spared,” King Harristan says. “You may as well speak freely.”

“Has my life been spared for . . . ?ah, ever?” I rasp.

“Forever? That is outside my power, I would think. But I would not have summoned you here if I wanted frightened lies.” He pauses. “Is my brother mistaken about what you do?”

Mind your mettle. My brain supplies images before I’m ready. Wes in the workshop, helping me weigh and measure. The children we have to coax into taking their medicine. The women who cry on my shoulder when we appear with the vials, because they’re so worried they’ll lose their entire family. The men who want to skip their doses so others can have more.

“Tell me,” says King Harristan.

The words aren’t an order. They’re a plea.

I blink at him, surprised. My brain supplies a memory from last night. Harristan and Corrick in close conversation, their voices low and intense. I wasn’t listening. I wanted to escape. But my thoughts captured their words to replay later. To replay now.

Cory. I don’t like this.

I wasn’t wrong before. King Harristan has a limit. Not just a limit. A weakness for his people.

I think back to the moment in front of the sector gates, when the eight smugglers were set to be executed. King Harristan looked so cold and aloof. I thought it meant he was numb to our suffering, bored with our punishment. I thought it meant he was horrible, as so many of us believe.

But maybe he was so cold and aloof because he didn’t want to be there at all.

What did Corrick say? Kindness leaves you vulnerable, Tessa. I learned that lesson years ago.

King Harristan would have learned that lesson, too. He also lost his parents—and inherited a kingdom that was on the brink of falling apart.

I don’t want to feel any kind of kinship or sympathy for this man or his brother. They’re cruel and cold, and they’ve caused so much harm. But it’s one thing when I’m seeing the bodies hanging from the gate—and altogether another when Prince Corrick is telling me of their crimes.

I draw a long breath. “Corrick—ah, Prince Corr—I mean, His Highness—”

“I know who you mean.”

“Right. Of course.” I pause. “He’s not mistaken. I do steal medicine. But I’m not a smuggler. I give it to those who cannot afford their own.”

“Do you not think the people who have legally procured it have a right to their medicine?”

I hesitate.

His eyes bore into mine. “Truth, Tessa. If you will not give me the truth, you can spend the rest of your days in the Hold, and my brother’s wishes be damned.”