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He blinked. “Yes. That should be obvious by now.”

A moment of silence swept by. This time, it was Ryn who blinked. Over and over.

Of all the things, that particular statement shouldnothave been funny. But the corner of Ryn’s mouth twitched. What a horrid time to feel laughter bubbling up—

Xerxes pressed his thumb over the corner of her mouth, right where it tugged. “Don’t you dare,” he warned, but a smile broke across his lips instead as he watched her struggle to keep it in, and despite his efforts, a giggle slipped from Ryn’s mouth.

“Divinities,” Xerxes cursed. “This was supposed to be a serious conversation.” He bit his lip over a grin.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Please, go on with yourseriousconversation.”

“Ryn,” he tried again, smothering his smile. “Stop it.”

She put a hand over her mouth, sealing away her responses, her mouth, and anything else that might get in his way.

Xerxes cleared his throat. His face was straight again when he looked her in the eyes. “I want to make you a deal.”

“To leave?” she guessed through her fingers.

“No.” The shadow of a smile threatened his mouth again, but it disappeared just as quickly. “To save me.”

The humour inside Ryn melted away. Her fingers slid off her lips, her hand falling to her side.

Her mind sailed back to when she stood before a Priesthood, swearing to do their bidding. When she’d agreed to kill a king. For her people—because he was herenemy. And despite how many times Xerxes claimed she belonged to him, the truth was she never would. The King would never want an Adriel.

They’d stopped dancing again.

Xerxes’s gaze darted back and forth between her eyes. He was holding her hands. She didn’t remember him taking her hands.

He spoke again when she didn’t reply. “Cure me, Ryn. And in exchange, I’ll give you anything. Even up to half of my kingdom if you want it.”

Ryn’s lips peeled apart.

Half of Per-Siana? Xerxeswasout of his mind.

The colours in the room bled together. All Ryn could see clearly was Xerxes standing before her; a young King she’d come to destroy, asking her to be the one to save him.

Offering her half the kingdom to do it.

Yes, it was the uttering of a crazy, haunted King. But he was still the King.

Ryn could save the Adriels. She could rescue her people from persecution, give them a safe place to go. And she could do it without killing anyone, or marrying anyone, or any other thing the Priesthood wanted from her.

“What should I say?” she whispered, not sure who she was speaking to.

“Why don’t you say yes?”

Ryn’s mother had always claimed there was a purpose for why Ryn had been created. What if this was it?

“I’ll do it,” she said from a dry throat.

They stood in the centre of the great ballroom before hundreds of witnesses, but Xerxes must have forgotten about them. His gaze remained on her as he let his hand slide off her waist, as he set her free.

“I’ll give you until the end of the trial period,” he said. “Three months.”

Three months. The Heartstealer trials would be over in three months. Xerxes would have to choose a queen in under three months. Three months was nothing.

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