“Be careful, Miss Bianca,” Billid whispered. “My gut tells me that the king isn’t happy.”

  Bianca glared at Killian. She thought of Runaya’s head under his heavy boot—the pain she must’ve felt as her skull crushed, the loneliness that poor Runaya felt when she died. Her fist trembled with restraint.

  “I’ll look after the lad,” Killian snickered. He saw in her eyes that she knew what he’d done. He had no remorse. “Wouldn’t want him to go missing like that poor whore… would we?”

  “Mind yourself,” she whispered. “The collar you wear doesn’t mean you’ll be missed, dog.” She turned to Zishang. “Keep an eye on my squire.” She put a finger into Killian’s chest. “If he gives one nasty look at Billid, cut his throat.”

  “Of course, Bianca.” Zishang took Billid’s arm and moved him to a safe position. “A pleasure to see you.”

  “The pleasure is mine.” She ordered Killian to open the doors to the throne room. “You’re a good man, Zishang. If anything were to happen to me, I would trust you to look after everyone.”

  She didn’t stay to talk more. She shut the doors behind her and rested her head on it for a few moments.

  The room is silent, she thought. Godwin is watching me. I’ve known him my whole life… I pray to the gods that I’m wrong. I hope he didn’t know about Runaya. I hope he wasn’t the one who gave the order to Killian to do what he did. If he did… I don’t know what I’d do. A hero doesn’t attack their own king, but a hero doesn’t let the murder of innocence go unpunished.

  Bianca was slow with her walk from the throne room’s doors to the throne. The room was without guards. She knew something was wrong. Godwin was not in his throne. Instead, he stood at on the carpet with her, meeting her eyes on equal ground.

  He cocked his head at her, a quick look of worry flashed across his eyes before returning to blankness.

  “You have bruises,” he noticed. “Who did that to you? Was it the prisoners you travelled with?”

  “How do you know I was travelling with the prisoners?”

  “Stroke told me. The owls showed him, he claimed. He also said that you’d found Runaya.”

  Her throat tightened and it became hard to swallow. Bianca felt as if she were choking, fighting her own sorrow. “You ordered all of the guards to leave,” she said. “Why?”

  “I’m the king. I don’t need a reason why.”

  They stared at each other in silence until Bianca finally spoke. “I want the truth,” she demanded. “You know why I’m here. I can see it in the way you’re standing. You’re uncomfortable. Tell me the truth that I already know, fill in what I’m missing, or I’ll leave the city.”

  “Leave the city?” he scoffed. “Permanently? You released the prisoners. What of the gold of Lakevalor? I am the king, Bianca. You found them against my orders, then you let them go.”

  “Fuck your rule,” she shouted. “Fuck the gold! I’m in no mood for games. Tell me. You were one of my closest friends. I’m giving you one chance to be honest or I swear I’ll leave forever.”

  He dropped his godly fa?ade, his legs turning wobbly. He sat on one of the steps and held his head low. He thought of his meeting with Harren that happened moments ago, thinking about how easy it would be to kill his own friend with a single swing of the God Arm. He tapped next to him, inviting Bianca to sit, which she did.

  “Tell me,” she whispered. “Be the Godwin I once knew. The one that wanted to be a hero with me; the one that duelled me with only a stick in every empty courtyard we could find. I know that he’s still inside you, somewhere. Stop trying to be like your father. He was a terrible king, but you don’t have to be. Speak to me.”

  Being a good king was all Godwin ever wanted. He knew he’d been a terrible ruler and that he was becoming more like Harren with each meeting of the council. The truth was that he hated himself. He despised his own existence so much that he never bothered to try to change, because he’d convinced himself he couldn’t. Bianca put her hand on his and squeezed it comfortingly. If there was any time to change his ways, this was final chance he’d have.

  And so, he took it.

  “I knew,” he admitted. “I’ve known since Killian and Quinn came back from Caron. I’m sorry.”

  “When the people learn their rulers butchered one of their own, none will feel safe, even with the Sentinels. They will revolt.”

  “My people wouldn’t rebel.”

  “Why wouldn’t they? You hold no circuses, jousts, tournaments. Their loyalty lays with the Sentinels, not you. If they feel unsafe, they’ll attack.”

  “Only a Valan can control the Sentinels.”

  “They would rather be protected by nothing at all than a king who kills whom he pleases.”

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  “I didn’t kill her,” Godwin begged her to believe. “I should’ve told you about it when it happened. I let Harren get into my head. I found joy in her death… I’m terrible.”

  “You did order it.” Bianca gave him the letters she’d gathered from Death. “This one was found on a buried Valan guard outside the view of the Sentinels. This one was found at the bedside of Killian Entrail. This one was found by a wandering knight. Read them. Look into my eyes and tell me this wasn’t you… and I’ll try my hardest to believe you.”

  The king read each letter with confusion. “I’ve never seen any of these letters, I promise you.”

  “Do you think Harren sent them?”

  Godwin didn’t know. “What do I do? Where do I go from here? How do I be a good king?”

  “Address your people,” she said softly. “You’re not Godric. The way you punish people has never been who you are. The actions of your father don’t define you. Tell the people what happened. Tell them you condemn the killing and whoever had a part in it will be punished, even if that included Harren… and you have to tell Stroke before anyone else. Brother to brother. Harren turned you against him.”

  “It wasn’t him who turned me against him,” he whispered. “It was never Harren.”

  Godwin grabbed Bianca by the cheek and went in for a kiss. She let it happen for a few seconds, then struck him in the jaw. She stood from the step and shouted at him.

  “Don’t you dare blame me! I know exactly what you’re talking about. The night that you almost fell from that roof was your fault. You didn’t listen to what happened, you ruined it.”

  “Why always Stroke?” he whispered. “Even know… why are you choosing him over me?”

  “Excuse me? Do you even hear yourself? Do you understand how pathetic you sound?”

  “I just wanted you,” he admitted. “I’ve always loved you. You never looked my way until I was the only option left. Am I pathetic for wanting to be your first choice? I didn’t say it was you. I told my little brother I was giving you flowers, but he knocked on your window regardless. I don’t believe it was a coincidence, how could I believe it? And you went with him so easily, never questioning if he was the one who actually gave you those gifts. I was the second choice, and he knew that.”

  “That’s not true,” Bianca whispered. “He—he was thanking me for burying that dove with Runaya—I—he’d never—” She thought back to that night and remembered her hopes that it was Stroke who delivered the flowers. “—it was just… bad timing.”

  “I asked him to stay away for the night. He knew what he was doing… it took me a long time to figure out why he did it… and I understand his reasons, but that didn’t make it easier on me. My father wasn’t faithful to my mother. Stroke knew before me. I was the heir with only my father as an example. He did it to keep me away from you because he thought I’d treat you the same as my father did my mother.”

  She felt horrible for striking Godwin, finally seeing why he’d been so hateful. She too had something hard to admit.

  “I was going to marry Cander before he drowned,” she said. “I wanted him to be my everything. A long time after the night where you almost fell, long before I fell in love… my heart was yours. I was just a stupid girl at the time. I should’ve said something. I was afraid of rejection, just like you rejected me on the roof.”

  “Can we go back to that? Is it possible? I want to be a good king for my people. I want to have what we could’ve had.”

  She took his hand and searched her own heart for any feeling. It was only small, but it was there, a tiny spark of love that could grow to what it used to be… only if he was willing to change. She told him that it was, declaring the path to be long and rocky.

  “I will do whatever it takes.”

  “If I’m ever to love to you… I have to know one more thing. Did you have anything do with Cander’s drowning?”

  “No,” he said immediately. “I would never do that to you.”

  “Have you done anything you’ve never told anyone?”

  “Yes,” he whimpered. “The God Arms. I was never supposed to get one of them, neither was Harren. My father wanted to skip over the succession and give them both to Stroke, claiming he was the better warrior. I only told Harren this… and then the next month they were both dead. I think he killed them.”

  “Harren is a plague. Cut ties from him. Do the right thing.”

  “I will,” he promised. “Starting with Stroke. Will you come with me to find him?”

  “Of course I will.” Bianca hugged him. “You’re my friend.”

  “Is Harren our enemy?”

  “He is.”

  ————————————————————————

  Mara had been listening to whole conversation through one of the doors at the back of the throne room. She ran to her husband’s chambers and knocked frantically, rattling the knob and trying to kick it down. The prince unlocked it and pulled her in by her hair, throwing her into a bookshelf. “Gods, will you shut the fuck up with your knocking!” he yelled. “I’m busy doing stuff.” He sat at his tiny table and crushed a red crystal underneath the pommel of a dagger, then cut it into tiny lines with a fine blade attached to his stump, snorting each one consecutively and then bashing the table with excitement. “The pain of my arm has been tormenting me again. I need more. Send the dog to go to the forest past Sekoi and bring me more of these magical stones.”

  “You need to tell Stroke Runaya is dead.”

  Harren threw his chair at her. It knocked all the books off the shelves. He sauntered towards her, pupils dilated, grabbing her throat and staring at her with his jaw hung open. “Why, pray tell, would I tell my little brother a thing?”

  She smiled through the choking, enjoying it secretly. “Because Bianca has convinced the king that you’re his enemy. He’s going to tell Stroke the truth… and he’s going to blame you. They’re going to come for you, my love, and they’ll take your God Arm.”

  “No one can take my God Arm,” he snarled. “My brother is so easily manipulated. If it’s taken him this long to guess I was the one who ordered the dog to kill Runaya then he’s dumber than I thought he was.” Harren narrowed his eyes and dropped Mara, slowly turning to his personal guard who was hiding in the corner. “Right, I forgot you were here.”

  “I didn’t hear a thing,” the frightened guard said. “I promise, my prince, I heard nothing.”

  “You attacked me in my chambers,” Harren whispered. “I had no choice but to defend myself.”

  “My prince, please!”

  Harren shoved the blade of his stump into guard’s open mouth, then grabbed his upper teeth, ripping off his head with the power of the God Arm. “It’s a race to see who find my little brother first,” Harren chuckled. “Godwin won’t have Stroke on his side. I’ll make him hate both of us.”