“The Legion will guard and interrogate,” Zander repeats, his tone sharp as he cuts off Adley. “And anyone who interferes with their work in any way will land themselves in the square by dawn for treason, without a trial. That will be all.” Zander stands and guides me to my feet and down the steep steps by our joined hands to the sound of murmurs.
At the bottom, we veer left, away from the crowd and toward a small door at a quick pace. The guard opens it for us, and we take the long hallway in silence. Zander does not pull away immediately as he usually does, not until we pass through a second door and enter the round, windowless room with the map. It’s empty, save for us.
The moment the door clicks shut, he spins me around. “Who are you?” he demands.
Chapter Nineteen
“I don’t know what you mean.” Blood rushes into my ears.
Zander releases my hand, shifting to loom over me. “You don’t remember who you are, and yet you seem eager to play the role of queen.” His tone is thick with accusation.
“You’re the one who put me up there! I was only doing what you asked me to.”
“I asked you not to say a word. That back there?” He points to the door we just passed through. “That was more than a few words.”
“What else was I supposed to do? Smile and nod like a fool? Which would make you look like a fool, too, in case you didn’t realize.”
He shakes his head and mutters something under his breath that I don’t catch. “You have been off since you arrived in the throne room.”
“Maybe because I wasn’t prepared for this ambush.”
“No,” he says resolutely. “It’s the way your pulse races. You are worried about something.” He searches my face. “What was it about your conversation with Wendeline today that unsettled you?”
“Nothing. I don’t … I’m not … I just …” I fumble for an answer, all while I try to process his words. “What do you mean, the way my pulse races?” Is that a figure of speech? “You can read my pulse?”
His head falls back with a humorless chuckle, showing off a long, columnar neck and pristinely white, straight teeth. “You are so naive. Sometimes it is delightful to watch.”
“I’m not naive,” I snap. “What are you talking about?”
His eyes are alight with dark mischief when they meet mine again. “I was never able to read you before. You veiled your emotions so well. But since you were brought back from the dead, your ability to do that is slipping, and quickly. Today, on that throne, your heart was a steady, hard thrum that flared every so often.” He drags a fingertip along my jugular, sending shivers through my body. “See? Just like that. You can’t hide that from me. So, I’ll ask you again, Romeria, what are you concealing?” The calm in his voice prickles the hairs on the back of my neck.
He may be able to read my pulse, but at least he can’t read my thoughts. If he could, I assume he would have the answer to that. “Nothing.” It comes out hoarse. Everything.
He steps forward, forcing me backward until I hit the wall. This feels like the prison tower all over again as he leans down, his mouth inches from mine, our stares locked. “Do you know what else I can sense, besides the way your heart beats when I am this close to you?” he whispers, his breath skating over my lips.
I shake my head, not trusting my voice.
“The way it beats when you’re lying,” he hisses. Resentment flares in his eyes as he stares down at me.
“The happy couple,” a male voice cuts in from somewhere behind the wall of Zander.
Zander peels away and moves for the table, revealing a smug-faced Atticus standing in the doorway.
One … two … three … I take deep breaths as I count, regaining my composure. Meanwhile, Zander has seized the back of the chair in a white-knuckled grip, as if trying to choke the life out of it. Whatever semblance of trust I’ve been gaining with him—however small—I sense it slipping away.
If only I’d had time to myself to sort out my thoughts and worries before being thrown into this circus.
“It’s foolish to let the Ybarisans live. If I were king, I would make a point of executing them where they stand.”
“But you are not king,” Zander retorts through gritted teeth. “We will do this my way.”
Brushing off his brother’s brusque response, Atticus makes a grand display of bowing for me. “I suppose formal reintroductions are in order? It’s a pleasure to meet you again, Your Highness. I’m Atticus, Zander’s much younger brother. Certainly not the king, as I’ve just been reminded.” They have the same deep timbre in their voices, though Atticus has a youthful charisma, and that edge of disdain that laces Zander’s every word is missing.
I struggle to force away the panic Zander stirred. “I remember you from that day in this room.” When he looked ready to cut me down with his sword.
“Yes, I apologize if I wasn’t myself. I was having a difficult time accepting this theory the priestess concocted.”
“But you do now?”
“Let us just say that version back there?” He points behind him, toward the throne room. “I have never met her.”
Does he wish that version dead too? Elisaf said Atticus is hard to read. I see what he means. His steely gaze is so contrary to his light mood.
“Neither have I,” Zander mutters. “Who knew she had such reckless pride.”
“Lord Adley annoyed me.”
“Clearly.” Atticus folds his arms over his broad chest, a playful grin on his lips, even as his eyes drift to my neck where the daaknar’s teeth marks are no longer visible. “I liked this phony version of you, though. Has more bite than the other phony version. And it was effective with Adley. He’s been known to drone on forever. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him retreat so quickly. You were convincing.”
“Maybe too convincing,” Zander says. “I doubt anyone conspiring against me will be in a rush to approach you anytime soon after that spectacle. I hope you are ready for a marriage neither of us wants.”
“You can always marry Saoirse instead.”
Atticus snorts.
Zander’s responding glare is lethal.
“And nothing I said out there will deter anyone. Whoever helped me must know it’s all an act, because they were part of it,” I counter. “They know I’m guilty. But no one with half a brain would come forward right now, anyway, and this person isn’t stupid or they would have already been caught. They’re going to sit back and watch for as long as possible. Figure out how I tricked you into buying my victim story.”
“Listen to the little conspirator. She’s right.” Atticus strolls over to his brother to give his shoulder a squeeze. Standing next to each other, I see they’re the same height, though Atticus has a wider build. He drags a chair out to settle into it, his powerful legs splayed. “You’ve given this until Hudem to play out. Now you must be patient, brother. I know that’s not one of your strong suits.”
Zander pinches the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t effortless for me.”