“You’re a fool if you think you’ll live another day,” says a voice behind us, one that reminds me that Kiran and I are not alone in this room.
Kiran looks toward the sky as if it’s taking everything in him not to tear Az’s head from his body for having the audacity to speak at this moment.
I go to prop myself up, so I can look Az in the face. My arms tremble with weakness, but with Kiran’s help, I get myself sitting upright.
Across the room, Blaise holds both of Az’s bound wrists in her grasp. His hands are turning purple. She doesn’t bother holding a blade to his throat, but her teeth are bared, which I figure is practically the same thing.
Hopefully, she won’t decide to release him on a whim or an empty promise.
“Put him down,” Az spits at the guards, nodding toward Kiran. “Or have you forgotten? The guards are sworn to me.”
Fear swells in my chest. “Az, please,” I whisper, but the guards don’t move.
“Fools, you’ll die by your oath if you don’t obey.”
“That’s all right with us,” says the guard to the left, just before he spits on Az.
Gratitude swells in my heart for these guards, who both look at me and nod. “Your kindness to us has not gone unrepaid,” says the other.
Then he clenches his teeth, preparing to die.
He doesn’t.
Both guards blink, but nothing happens.
“Yes, about that,” says another voice, one that pricks my belly with the pang of betrayal. Out from behind the corner steps the vizier, a scroll unwound in his hands.
“They’re sworn to me,” Az insists, though his confidence seems to falter as he looks toward the vizier.
“They were sworn to you,” corrects the vizier, branching the scroll and clearing his throat again.
Kiran’s gaze latches on the wax seal, his emblem.
“I, King Kiran of Naenden,” reads the vizier, “hereby declare that females now be eligible to claim the throne of Naenden, if such is their birthright.”
My husband lets out an exasperated laugh.
My jaw drops.
Lydia waltzes in, unbound, her grin feral.
“What? No, that legislation is void, considering Kiran was never the rightful heir to the throne,” Az says.
“Yet,” says the vizier, wagging his finger, “Kiran still maintained the throne for a time. His declarations remain the law, unless his successor writes into law otherwise. You are lucky, young man, that our previous king was as horrible about turning in his paperwork on time as he was, otherwise your brief stint on the throne would have been nonexistent.”
The vizier turns to me and offers me the softest, saddest smile, his watery eyes twinkling. “The courier tasked with carrying the document from Othian to Meranthi fell ill and was unable to commence his journey. I do apologize that this couldn’t have been enacted earlier, and for my dreadful behavior as I awaited its arrival.”
If I had the strength to stand, I would wrap the vizier in a hug. He must see that on my face, because the tension in his shoulders relaxes.
Az opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.
Probably because Lydia just flashed her teeth at him. “I accept my rightful place as queen,” she says, flitting her hand nonchalantly, as if she were agreeing to altering a menu of chutney from mango to passionfruit. “You,” she calls to the nearest guard. “Inform the healer that the Prince Regent needs attending to.” She turns back toward Az, murder burning in her expression. “My first act of queen is to—”
“Wait,” I say, instantly wincing. Lydia swivels her head over to me, as if she’s daring me to say what she thinks I’m about to say.
“Not yet,” I say, swallowing despite the dryness creeping up my throat.
Az’s shoulders relax slightly, though he still taps his feet against the floor in apprehension.
Kiran tenses next to me. “Asha, he can’t be left alive. He’s committed treason.”
“I know.” I chew on my lip. “But I just…” I close my eye, not sure how to express this. “I just need some time. Besides. You and Lydia took a fae vow not to harm him. Even if you command someone else to do it, I don’t want either of you ending up dead on technicalities.”
“Asha, thank you,” says Az, having the audacity to stumble toward me. The guard holding him twists his arm, so he has to speak through gritted teeth. “I know we’ve had our differences, but—”
“I don’t want to ever see your face again,” I say.
Az actually looks shocked. Pained even. I’m having a hard time bringing myself to care. Kiran furrows his brow at me, but I shake my head. I don’t know that I can have this conversation in front of Lydia. I don’t know how to explain that I want Az’s execution to be a decision made not in the heat of the moment, but with a level head.
Lydia seems disappointed, but she doesn’t press the issue. She just commands the guards to take Az to the dungeons and adds something about not to worry about giving him a chamber pot.
Kiran picks me up, wrapping me in his sturdy arms and tugging me into his chest.
“I can walk, I think,” I say.
Kiran’s amber eyes water as he looks down at me. “I think I’d like to hold you for a while, if you’ll let me.”
I decide I would like that very much.
