Page 79

He turns back to the other guy. “We’ll get back to this in a minute. I need to speak with Marra.”

At least that’ll give me the opportunity to try and change his mind.

Tiberias hands his trident to a servant wearing gloves then comes over to me, fixing his hair. “Are you ready for the big event?”

“You really want to kill your brother?”

“He tried to kill me—and very nearly succeeded. You want me to call this off?”

I shake my head no. “I just don’t want to see it ending in death, for either of you. Doesn’t it bother you to know that you or my dad will die in an hour?”

“You think I’ll win that quickly? You give me too much credit. It’ll be the battle of the century.”

“It’s barbaric. Just imprison him for attempting to kill you. Let him live a long life in regret.”

Tiberias puts a hand on my shoulder. “I hate that this pains you, Marra, but you know the only way to take out a king is through death—that’s how Drake took over my throne in the first place. Except I didn’t stay dead.”

“I’m glad for that. Can’t you offer him the same graciousness?”

He frowns. “You think I’m standing here because of my brother’s grace?”

I sigh in defeat. “No.” I wrack my mind, trying to think of something to say that will change his decision. “But wouldn’t that make you look like the better man? Make the people like you even more than they already do?”

Tiberias shakes his head. “I’ll look weak. I’ve given my word.”

“Or they’ll see you as merciful.”

He glances at the time. “I need to work on a few things before the fight. Is there anything you need from me before I get back to it?”

Defeat presses on me. “Not if you aren’t willing to save my dad, or let him save you. It could go the other way, you know.”

My uncle shakes his head. “I do hate that you’re so conflicted over this, but the only way I’m going to be removed from my rightful place as king is through death. If he actually kills me, then he deserves the crown. And look at it this way, no matter the outcome, you’ll still be heir to the throne.” And with that, he grabs his weapon and begins sparring again.

“Wait!” I have to try harder. “What about—?”

The servant who brought me in puts a hand on my arm. “We need to get you ready.”

I give her a double-take. “What do you mean?”

“You’re royalty, my lady. It’s time to get you dressed for this monumental event.”

This can’t be happening. But it is. I glance over at Tiberias, fighting with a tenacity like I’ve never seen. I feel like I should say goodbye, just in case. I should do the same to my dad. One of them is going to die before I go to sleep.

This is so wrong! So barbaric! And there isn’t a thing I can do about it.

Reluctantly, I follow the servant to another room. I’m so lost in my thoughts, I don’t immediately recognize it as my old room. It’s been updated but still has my old dollhouse that my uncle gave me for my sixth birthday as well as a few of my favorites. The bedding is a pretty teal color and it’s perfect.

“Why am I here?”

“To get dressed, of course,” the servant replies. “You’re to pick out a dress to wear.”

“Okay.” If I had my feet, I’d drag them on my way into the enormous closet. I flip through the dresses. They’re all so bright and cheery, but I want to wear black. Show the fact that I disagree with the fight—that it’s a funeral. I’m going to lose someone I love today.

Tears blur my vision as I dig through my options, not finding anything dark enough.

“Are you done in there?”

“Almost.” I rub my eyes and focus. Then I see something. It’s tucked way in the back. Not a dark dress. A tight outfit, leather and perfect for fighting.