“Father.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “I thought perhaps my letters to you were going astray, but it would appear you are receiving your mail just fine.” His eyes point toward the mountain of invitations I’ve already opened and read. Among them is Orrin’s love letter. Rhouben returned it to me, having no use for it after Petros made his forgery. I frown at it distastefully.
“I was getting around to writing you.”
“Undoubtedly,” he says with sarcasm. “You’ve gotten caught up in the palace. In the finery. In the attention. You’ve forgotten your entire purpose for being here.”
A headache pounds at my temples, and red tinges the corners of my vision. “I’ve been focusing on winning the king’s favor, which is why I haven’t had time to write you. Things are progressing perfectly. If there were something to tell you, I’d tell you.”
He paces back and forth in front of my wardrobe. “Perfectly, is it? Then perhaps you can tell me why word has reached me that the king never accompanies you to events outside the palace? In fact, I hear you’re in the company of that Calligaris boy constantly.”
I can’t focus on Father as my eye begins to twitch. “I assure you I have everything under control. There’s no need to fret. I have the king right where I want him. And Myron will no longer be an issue. In fact, once I have a chat with him, he’ll be leaving the palace. Permanently.”
Father’s face changes. At first, I cannot read it. Then it dawns on me with horror. Pity.
“Alessandra, darling, you tried your best. There comes a time when we must admit we’ve been defeated. You had a good run at the palace, but the king clearly doesn’t want you. But don’t you worry. We are not ruined. I’ve made plans.”
My fingers slowly curl into fists at my sides. “What did you do?”
“I reached out to Lord Eliades. No, don’t give me that look. He’s rich, and he will give me a nice bride-price for your hand.”
“He’s an earl!”
“I’m an earl.”
“You deemed him unacceptable for Chrysantha but acceptable for me?”
He pauses only a beat before saying, “Your circumstances are different.”
Because she is his favorite, and I am not. “The point is to elevate my station! Why would you try to make me a countess when I’m trying to become a queen?”
Father shakes his head sadly. “I’m proud of you for trying, but it’s an important lesson to learn to recognize when you’ve been beaten.”
I know when I’ve been beaten, and I have barely even started.
“You will see reason,” he adds. “Once you’ve had time to come to terms with everything. Now why don’t you let me escort you home?”
I look up to the ceiling, gathering my thoughts and calming my tone. “Let me make things perfectly clear, Father. I am not cattle you can sell off, and you can’t force me into a marriage I don’t want. Not when the king himself is providing for my every comfort.”
Father purses his lips. “You will wed Eliades or be disinherited.”
“Then disinherit me! The king sends me expensive gifts. I have plenty of money, and I live in the palace. There is nothing you can do to threaten me. You’ve outlived your usefulness, Father. You got me into the palace, and now I can take it from here. In fact, once I win the king’s favor, I’ll make sure you don’t see one penny out of my treasury.”
The room goes quiet, and Father looks at me in alarm for all of a second. “Take some time before you resort to dramatics, Alessandra. I will check in with you later.”
He strides from the room, but his steps are unsure.
* * *
BEFORE THE SUN IS quite up the next morning—long before the servants should arrive—I let myself into Myron’s rooms. He hasn’t bothered to lock his doors, so I open one door after the next, until I find the bedroom. The setup is completely identical to my room; however, Myron hasn’t gone through any trouble to decorate to his own tastes.
I slide over to the bed on slippered feet and let my gaze take in Myron’s sleeping form. So vulnerable. If I wanted to kill him, I could do it now.
But what I’ve done to Myron is so much sweeter than letting him get off easy with death.
I reach down one gloved hand and flick the end of his nose as hard as I can.
Myron inhales deeply and sits up in one movement, his eyes widening until he realizes it’s me in the room. He rubs the sleep from his eyes.
“If you’re here because you’ve changed your mind about the nature of our relationship, I’m afraid I don’t want you anymore,” Myron says after a long yawn. “Now kindly leave so I can go back to sleep.”
He makes to settle back into his blankets.
This time I slap him.
That gets his attention.
“What the hell?” he demands. “Need I remind you—”
I hold a paper before his nose. “You’re going to leave the palace immediately. As soon as I walk out that door, you will pack up your things and be gone, never to return. I never want to see your face or hear your name again.”
“What is this?” He reaches for the note, but I yank it back lest he get any ideas of destroying it.
“This is a debtor contract.”
Myron scrunches his nose in confusion.
“I have purchased all of your debts,” I say simply. “From the club. From the men you owe money to. All of it. You now owe me five thousand necos.”
His whole body goes perfectly still.
“Nothing to say?” I ask. “Let me make this perfectly clear in case you don’t understand. I own you. One misstep from you, and I send you to debtors’ prison for inability to pay on your substantial debts. How long do you think it would take your brother to get you out of there? Or—do you think he’d even bother?”
I watch every move of Myron’s throat as he swallows, relishing every second of his new misery.
“You will give back any money you’ve accepted from the nobility, and you will cease to claim any connection to me. If you so much as breathe in a direction I don’t like, I’ll make sure you never see the outside of a jail cell.”
I reach forward and pat his cheek mockingly. “There’s a good lad. Now off with you.”
“You’re lying,” he says as I reach for the door to leave.
“Am I? Shouldn’t take too long for you to verify for yourself. But don’t dally. You have until lunch to be gone.”
My smile is radiant as I leave his rooms. I only have control over one man, and yet, the power of it washes over me in intoxicating waves of heat. When I am queen, will I experience it a thousandfold, knowing I will command tens of thousands?
* * *
WITH THE THRILL OF victory still upon me, I go in search of Kallias. It’s early in the day still. Surely too early for meetings? After hailing down several servants, I’m finally told the king is breakfasting in the library.
Why didn’t he extend me an invitation?
I learn why as soon as a servant admits me into the room. Kallias is surrounded by correspondences. Amid countless papers and writing utensils, I think I see a bowl with hardboiled eggs, and half a piece of toast lies facedown on a book nearby. A book I suspect he is using as a paperweight.