The Prince’s Heart

26. Chapter 26

Chapter twenty-six

H is words hang in the air like static after lightning while I struggle to comprehend them.

“You’ll declare war on us?” Too late, far too late, it dawns on me that I was wrong, that he’s not trying to get the upper hand; this is something else entirely, beyond simple negotiations over a marriage treaty. I’m out of my depth, well and truly trapped in this sudden nightmare, like a boat caught at sea in a hurricane. “But … why?”

“That’s right. How long do you think Soeria will last when Jirena Sadai invades? A week? Two, perhaps?” He looks at me with that hateful grin of his; now, it has a hint of insanity in it. “Either way, the result will be the same. Your head on a pike—and your mother’s and sister’s heads too, for that matter. But not before thousands of your countrymen die in agony, fighting a battle they can’t win.”

A wave of disgust cuts through the sense of unreality, so strong I almost want to vomit. “Why? Why would you ever do such a thing? What is wrong with you?”

“Wrong? Absolutely nothing.” He sounds so sincere I could almost believe he thinks he’s telling the truth. “You see, Darien, you and I may have similar titles, but there’s one crucial difference between us: I’m willing to do what must be done, and you’re not. It’s as simple as that.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been more confused in my life. “What must be done? For what? What in the world are you talking about?”

“Come on, Darien! Don’t play dumb with me.” He pauses, and when he speaks again, his voice has an exaggerated lecturing tone. “It’s been less than a century since the War of Dissolution, yet the whole world seems to have forgotten that once, not too long ago, they were part of something greater than themselves. They’ve convinced themselves that the Empire’s gone, that it’s never coming back.” The corners of his lips quirk up into a tiny smile. “Well, they may be right about the former, but they’re wrong about the latter. After all, the pieces are still there, just waiting to be picked up. All it would take is someone with the vision, with the will , to bring it back.”

What he said makes so little sense that I’m starting to wonder whether he’s lost his mind, or if I’ve lost mine. “You think you can, what, just declare yourself the Emperor? Then somehow force Raktos and Verreene and Zeteyon and the rest to acknowledge you as their ruler?”

He nods once, his expression unchanged.

I laugh; it sounds jagged, even to my ears. “Why would anyone in their right mind follow you? You’re just some prince, not a king! You have no lands, no army, nothing!”

“Darien, Darien, Darien. Don’t you think I’ve considered that already? I’ve been planning this for years.” A fire burns in his eyes, an inferno of madness and ambition and monstrosity. “I may be just a prince for now, but let’s just say that my sister won’t be on the throne for much longer. But even once I’ve taken her place, I’ll need at least one more crown. That’s where you come in.” His smile widens. “You see, once we’re married, you’re going to give me control of the Soerian military—assuming you want your mother and sister to continue to be among the living, that is. Once I have the might of the Jirenian army and the Soerian army behind me … Well, I’m sure there will be fools stupid enough to try to stand in my way, but I’ll just swat them aside like the flies that they are.”

“You and Rolsteg cooked up this plot together, then? Or is she just stringing you along for the ride and making you do all the dirty work for her?”

Arbois looks at me like I’m the one who’s spouting nonsense. “What in the world are you talking about, Darien? She has nothing to do with this. I only told her about Zeteyon because I had to get someone on the council to burst your little bubble, and she was the first one I happened to come across.”

I gape at him for a few moments, not quite sure what to say. “But… But then….” My mind feels like it’s floating, as though it’s been disconnected from my body. “I don’t understand. You planned for years to marry me and take over the Soerian military? I was just a prince when you got here. How could you know…”

In a flash, a moment of pure horror, the implication of what I’m saying bursts through my mind, and when I speak again, my voice comes out as a whisper. “It was you. You dined with Father and Samis a few days before they died. You poisoned them to make sure I’d become king.”

He claps his hands together, almost gleefully. “You finally figured it out! Yes, I killed them. It was far easier than I expected.” He leans forward slightly and lowers his voice again. “Just between you and me, I had nothing against either of them—not on a personal level, at least. But they were in my way, so they had to go.”

Everything shifts around me, and it takes me a moment to realize that’s because I’ve shot to my feet, rage clouding my mind like a feverish red fog. “You disgusting excuse for a human being,” I growl, stepping toward the object of my fury. “I should—”

He holds up a hand. “Careful, Darien. I wouldn’t do anything rash if I were you.”

I barely manage to restrain myself from reaching out and grabbing his throat. “Give me one good reason not to throttle you here and now.”

Arbois seems remarkably composed for someone who’s just admitted to regicide twice over. “Think about it,” he says, his voice even. “Sure, you might be able to kill me, although I’d certainly put up a fight. But let’s say you succeed. How do you think it will look if you kill a foreign prince in your own palace? Do you think my sister would just sit on her hands and do nothing? You’d probably just end up starting a war anyway. Is that what you want, Darien?”

“You killed my father and brother .” My voice is strained, like I’m holding it back as much as I’m restraining myself from attacking Arbois. “Nobody in their right mind would blame me for doing the same to you.”

He snorts. “Perhaps. But that’s only if they believe you. After all, the only evidence you have is my confession, and I can’t exactly repeat that if I’m dead, can I? Besides, my sister may be many things, but conciliatory isn’t one of them. She wouldn’t wait to hear your side of the story before she decided to punish you for your crime.”

“Oh, but you’re wrong about one thing. I do have evidence.”

He tilts his head, looking genuinely confused.

“I found a Jirenian coin in the room where that assassin you sent after me was staying. Who else…” I trail off. “Wait a minute. You did send her, didn’t you? But if you need me to marry you, why did you try to have me killed?”

“I assume you mean the woman in the garden?” A faint smile crosses his lips. “Yes, I sent her. But who ever said she was trying to kill you ?”

For a second, I just stare at him, deeply confused. “But then who…?” My eyes widen. “You were trying to kill Tag , weren’t you? But how did you know—”

“That the two of you were courting each other behind my back?” He laughs, as though this is all some big joke—maybe it is, to him. “It was obvious. You had a chance to make a match with someone far superior to you in terms of power and prestige, and yet you delayed as long as you could, even as your situation became more and more dire. Once I knew what I was looking for, it wasn’t exactly hard to see that you were fixated on the Leara boy.” He leans back on the couch, the perfect picture of a relaxed prince lounging away, everything under control. “But I digress. Right now, all you need to know is that I have made you an offer, and this is your only chance to take it. What will it be, Darien? Will you bring the might of Jirena Sadai down on yourself and your countrymen? Or will you do the smart thing, and save thousands of lives in the process?”

When he stops talking, my legs feel weak, and I collapse onto the couch, as though all the energy in my body has drained away. As much as I desperately wish I could believe he’s bluffing, I’m terrified he might not be. And if he isn’t bluffing …

I hate myself for admitting it, but he’s right. I can’t be the king who leads his people to a slaughter when he could save them. He may be a monster—he is a monster—but I’m not. If the price I need to pay is marrying the man who killed my father and brother … I don’t have a choice, do I?

“Fine,” I finally say, my voice dull and lifeless. “I’ll marry you, even though I hate you.” I rouse myself a bit, trying to put some fire into my voice. “But if you hurt anyone else I love, I promise I’ll kill you with my own bare hands.”

“I don’t really think you’re in a position to make threats, Darien.” He reaches out and pats my knee like I’m a favorite pet; it takes almost everything I have not to grab his hand and break his wrist. “I suppose I can be magnanimous for the moment, so long as you continue to be compliant. We are to be wedded soon, after all.” His eyes freeze on mine, and a hint of menace enters his voice. “Mark my words, though: if you do the slightest thing against my wishes, I will not be so kind. If that happens, you—and your family—will be punished. Do you understand?”

I nod, my jaw set to keep it from quivering.

He smiles. “Good. I’m done with you for now. You may go.”

I do as he ordered, fighting to look as dignified as I can right now. Through some inner source of strength I didn’t know I had, I manage to hold everything in until I’ve gotten out of his rooms and back to the hallway. Only then do I slump against the wall, unmoving, beaten and broken.