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Ryn’s toes curled in her sandals. She never dreamed she’d be standing this close to the King of Per-Siana in her lifetime back when she first heard the rumours about his wife.

She was too afraid to ask now—too afraid to learn the truth and have this image of the boy before her be destroyed.

But she knew she couldn’t go on anymore without the truth.

Divinities, he’d asked her to save him. Whether it was what El wanted or not, how could Ryn do that if she didn’t know who she was saving?

“What happened, Xerxes?” Her voice came out dry even with the humid air. “What did you do?”

Xerxes closed his mouth. For a split second, Ryn regretted asking, worried he was angry.

He pulled his gaze off her and settled it on the city.

She thought he wasn’t going to answer, but after several moments where the only sound was the rain slapping over the glass roofs below, he said, “I never went near my wife. Not once. Not even at the wedding. I didn’t care what the people thought of me. ”

Bumps formed over Ryn’s arms, and she hugged them to herself.

“I hated her,” Xerxes whispered. “I hated everyone. She was working against me, forcing my hand at every turn. She thought I didn’t know she was manipulating the council, pretending to be my voice to get what she wanted, having anyone who stood in her way executed in my name.

” His throat bobbed. “There are times when I think she deserved what happened to her. I just wish it hadn’t been me who did it. ”

A gust of wind slithered through the tower. Ryn shivered and tightened her grip on her arms, trying to keep still. Trying not to draw attention to herself as the weight of this moment pressed upon her like a boulder inching its way down from the heavens.

Ryn wasn’t sure what to ask next, if she should even speak. Xerxes turned, angling himself away from her. His hand found the balcony rail, and Ryn realized he was trembling.

“I swear, I never went near her. She wasn’t even allowed to enter my room. That’s why it didn’t make sense when I awoke that morning and found her beside me…” His eyes glazed over, like he was seeing something Ryn couldn’t. “I don’t remember doing it.”

Ryn exhaled softly. “Maybe you didn’t,” she said—the first words she was able to utter in response.

Xerxes cut her a look. “I did. I know I did. It’s not the only time I’ve lost control of myself,” he said.

“And I knew full well she was sent here by the War King of B’rei Mira to spy on me, and that she was cruel, and that she only wanted to see Per-Siana citizens die.

I had reasons to want her dead.” He moved from the rail and took a step toward Ryn.

She fought the impulse to move and stay out of his reach.

“You should be more careful around me, Ryn,” he said.

The wind blew the storm against them, and Ryn tasted rain.

Xerxes’s story wasn’t what she expected. Based on the rumours, she thought she’d meet a king who went on killing rampages, who was a poison to the kingdom, and who lacked a heart. But Xerxes wasn’t any of those things. Even if his heart had been burned a few times, it was there. It was beating.

“I trust you,” she said, surprising herself. “I think I trust you with my life, King.”

His lips peeled apart, a bewildered and horrified expression finding him. He shook his head slowly. “You foolish maiden,” he whispered.

Somewhere in the distance a temple bell rang over the streets. Ryn stared at Xerxes. Xerxes stared back.

Finally, he swallowed and dropped his gaze. “If you ever see me and my flesh is deathly pale or gray and my skin glimmers with moisture… Run. It doesn’t matter what I say to you in that moment, even if I try to convince you to stay, just run.”

“Why?” Ryn rasped.

“Because I need you alive. You’re the only one who can silence my voices.”

The words rattled in Ryn’s mind, eating their way through her, slowing her heart to a dull beat.

He needed her alive.

He needed her… for his voices.

She realized she’d crossed a line in asking about his wife.

She’d already been foolish enough to tell him she liked him in the Abandoned Temple, only to have him invite Calliope to spend the night with him shortly after.

Only to watch him give smiles to all the maidens—which was his right as King. As a young man searching for a wife.

Ryn linked her hands together, feeling more foolish than ever.

She looked at the stone floor as it dawned on her all over again that he was a powerful King, and she was just a maiden he needed.

The shattered cookies on the ground reminded her how easily things were broken.

How fast something sweet could be ruined by reckless thinking.

That pain was just a consequence of carelessness.

Suddenly his warning for her to be more careful around him felt reasonable.

The three months he’d given her for their deal were dissolving quickly.

After only a few more weeks, Ryn would have either cured him or failed.

Either way, she’d probably never see him again—unless he decided she needed to stay at the palace for some other reason, which would be horrifying if she was forced to watch him parade through the atrium each morning with his new wife.

“Will you still need me once the voices are gone?” she asked.

Xerxes’s brows pulled together. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “No,” he seemed to realize.

“So, you’ll let me go? Once you’re cured?”

He had no response ready for that. Seconds passed before he said, “I suppose I will. If that’s what you want.” His jaw slid to the side.

Ryn nodded.

She had to focus on saving her people. The only reason she came to the palace in the first place was for them. “I want to add something to our deal,” she said. “I want you to promise me no harm will ever come to Matthias.”

Xerxes looked at her blankly. Then he asked, “Who’s Matthias?”

Ryn folded her arms and huffed. “The extra Folke guard you stationed outside my door,” she told him, baffled Xerxes hadn’t even learned Matthias’s name when he’d been threatening him.

“Matthias is an old friend. And if I’m going to help you, I need to know my friend is safe, no matter what.

He’s the only friend I have here.” The corners of Xerxes’s mouth tightened when she said that.

“And I want you to send him on an errand— somewhere far away from the palace—during the Heartstealer senses trial.”

Xerxes raised a brow. It didn’t look like jealousy. Curiosity, maybe. Even so, all he said was, “Fine. I’ll keep your guard safe.”

“With your life?” Ryn pressed.

Xerxes made a face and folded his arms too. Ryn knew she was making a preposterous request. But to her surprise, Xerxes said, “Yes, with my life, I shall keep that fellow safe for you.”

Ryn relaxed and nodded. “And about the senses trial where you’ll be blindfolded…” She inhaled a light breath as she thought about the assassins. If Xerxes died—she could hardly think about that—her deal would fall through, and she wouldn’t inherit half the kingdom and save the Adriel people. But…

Would he be angry she’d known all this time and was only telling him now?

Would it break the delicate trust they’d built?

And worse, would the King demand to know where she got her information from?

What if Ryn was dragged away as a suspect?

Would she utter the names of the Priesthood under interrogation? What if she gave up Kai?

A headache formed behind her eyes. She rubbed her temples, and a strand of her hair broke loose.

“What about the blindfold trial?” Xerxes asked when she didn’t finish. He unfolded his arms and took a step toward her, eyeing the strand of hair over her face. He raised a hand slightly, but he pulled his fingers in and dropped it back down again.

Ryn met his gaze. Despite all the things she felt since entering the tower, she couldn’t imagine those dark blue eyes lifeless and cold.

Yes, she would save Xerxes from those assassins.

She would ensure he wasn’t killed that day, she would complete their deal, and she would inherit half the kingdom for her people.

But she could not tell him. She would find another way.

“Ryn,” Xerxes said when she didn’t answer.

He bit his lips and squinted his eyes. “That blindfold trial will be the death of me,” he remarked, and Ryn nearly choked.

“I’m going to have to sit there with my eyes covered like a fool.

I have to endure whatever nonsense the maidens come up with, and I’m only supposed to take the blindfold off if I’m truly entertained to give my approval.

I hate the thought of it,” he admitted. Then he guessed, “Will you play your harp?”

Ryn shook her head. “I’m not sure what will happen to the gods in the room if I do.” She didn’t explain.

A devilish smile tugged on Xerxes mouth. “Give me a hint then, so I’ll know when it’s you.”

“Never.” Ryn fought an untimely smile. “You’ll have to guess.”

“ Ryn ,” he urged, dragging in another step.

There they were, smiling at each other. Again.

By the Divinities, Ryn was sure she’d be responsible for her own demise if she kept letting him smile at her like that. She thought about what Heva said, “You two are like magnets. You always get pulled toward each other.”

There was a reason for that. Xerxes was a boy on an island, after all. He was a boy who saw a ship passing by with Ryn on it. He’d found a way to escape the poisonous sea.

She had no idea if her ship was about to sink with both of them on it.