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Belorme wasn’t responsible for the King’s untimely death afterward, but he hadn’t done anything to stop it either. Even the medicines Belorme had made for the King’s sickness were fake—water and blossom paste. A concoction good for nothing more than watering the gardens outside.

The King’s funeral had been a grand spectacle. Xerxes had cried for days. And Belorme, who had once spoken softly to the boy and taught him how to read, did not say a word to him. Even when Xerxes tugged his sleeve and begged Belorme for a bedtime story to ease his pain, Belorme had ignored the boy and told him to go read a book by himself.

Xerxes had, after all, been far more loved by the King than Belorme. Something Belorme had learned the hard way. It was difficult to feel sympathy for the weeping boy after that.

Belorme flicked a crumb off the balcony ledge as he thought about these things. He watched the crumb sail down the side of the palace and disappear into the courtyards below. From where he stood, he could see into the glass rooms of the palace, he could watch the staff going about their chores. He could spy. He could collect all sorts of knowledge from up here. And knowledge, after all, was power. And power equalled control.

And only control could keep Belorme from ever having to suffer at Xerxes’s hands the way he’d suffered at his father’s.

“We hate the late King,”the voices chimed together.

“We hate Xerxes.”

“Chancellor.”

When Damon’s low tone filled the balcony, Belorme realized he was gripping the rail with bleached knuckles. He loosened his grip and peeled his fingers off.

“The Intelligentsia are meeting soon to discuss the Heartstealers issue. As you can imagine, everyone’s a little on edge.”

A little on edge. Belorme grunted. Everyone was more than ‘a little’ on edge. Ever since Xerxes’s additional maiden had made the King laugh.

He’dlaughed.

How horrifying. Belorme had not seen Xerxes laugh since he was a tiny boy giggling through pranks he’d pull on unsuspecting noblemen in the palace. And now, Xerxes had threatened to come after Belorme if the Intelligentsia had the maiden killed.

What a mess this was.

“I want you to go apologize to that maiden,” Belorme said to Damon.

“What?”

“The one you raised your sword against,” he clarified. “The one starting all the rumours among the nobles.”

Damon was quiet, but Belorme imagined he was seething. “Why?” the sage asked in a dark voice.

“Because you’re young, attractive, and the perfect candidate to make the King jealous. And there are more refined methods than killing to get what we want,” Belorme stated. “I want you to get on Estheryn Electus’s good side. I want you to talk to her sweetly. And if you can, I want you to put her in a compromising position,” Belorme said. He turned around to face the sage. Only one of Damon’s near-black eyes showed through the slit of his hood. “I want to catch her in the act of betraying the King.”

Damon’s shoulders relaxed, the anger fizzling from his gaze. “Being sweet will take too long,” he said. “I can move things along faster if I’m pushy.” There wasn’t a spark of doubt inDamon’s appearance. The unreserved confidence almost put a shiver in Belorme’s spine as he nodded.

“Yes, befriending her does seem like a waste of time,” he said.

“Kill her immediately! We want her dead!”

“She’s dangerous!”

Belorme folded his arms and paced around the balcony. “I’ll arrange something scandalous,” he decided. “Be ready. And Damon…” The young sage raised a brow in question. “I’ve been watching the Adriel priests in the city—They’re getting bold. Grab one of them when you have time and bring him here in secret. I’d like to interrogate a priest.”

Damon nodded. “Of course.” After a shallow bow, he returned to the Room of Knowledge, his cloak sweeping around with him.

Belorme turned back toward the Mother City. And to his voices, he said, “Consider it done. What shall I do for the gods next?”

13

XERXES

The door to the Folke assembly room made a clatter when Xerxes swung it open, striking the adjacent wall. A dozen nearby Folke jumped in surprise, and everyone in the room leapt to their feet to stand at attention.

Xerxes scanned their faces.