Endure - Sara B. Larson Page 0,49

arm once, twice. A warning of some sort?

“Eventually, I grew strong enough to make good on my threats to him. In the end, I was the stronger king.” King Armando took a deep breath and the anger slid away, replaced by the mask of emotionless disinterest he’d worn before I incited his outburst. His rapid mood changes were more frightening than King Hector’s consistent derision and cruelty. This man was truly mad.

I wondered what his words meant — his threats against his father? All I’d ever heard was that King Alonz had died of old age shortly after his sons invaded Antion, leaving the throne of Dansii to Armando, who then crowned his brother, Hector, king of Antion. Was there more to the previous king’s death than mere age?

“But let us speak of the future, not the past.” King Armando leaned forward. “After all this time, I finally have you here before me. The key to my success.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re a mere pawn in a game you’ve never truly understood. But now you are my pawn.”

“I will never be anyone’s pawn.”

Akio squeezed my arm again, even harder this time, but Armando took us all by surprise by throwing his head back and laughing. “You have spirit. I like that.” He stood up and walked down the stairs to stand directly in front of me. He was only a few inches taller than me, so our eyes were almost on the same level. I stiffened when he lifted one hand to grab my chin and jerked my face toward his; he stroked one finger along my striated skin as if relishing my disfigurement. His hot breath blew into my face when he said, “I will show you why you are my pawn. And before I’m done, you will willingly offer yourself as a sacrifice to my purpose.”

“Never,” I said, my voice low and furious, even though his nails still dug into my jaw.

Before he could respond, the doors opened again, and he looked beyond me. His hand dropped from my face, and he strode past me toward whoever had entered the room.

“Your Majesty,” a voice that sent a flash of loathing through me began, “I was told that she merely needed to be alive. I would have never —”

“Silence!” King Armando roared, and Rafe cut himself off. “You serve me, not the other way around.”

I craned my neck to look over my shoulder and saw Rafe cowering before the king, on one knee, near the bloodstain that a servant still knelt beside, scrubbing vigorously. I’d seen this act before, in the kitchens at Damian’s palace, when he’d pretended to be a terrified taster. But I also knew the monster that hid beneath the unassuming exterior now.

“Of course, Sire. I will never forget my place again.”

“No, you will not,” King Armando agreed. He snapped his fingers, and again, servants rushed forward. “See to it that this man is chained and taken to The Summoner’s chambers. He is to have one of his eyes removed.”

“Sire, no —” Rafe burst out, but the king continued ruthlessly.

“Cross me again, and I will remove the other. You will be as powerless as a baby and just as helpless.” King Armando turned on his heel and strode back toward us. Rafe knelt there, his mouth hanging open in shocked horror as the servants bowed to him and then pulled his arms behind his back, securing them in place and lifting him to his feet, all carefully avoiding his eyes.

I couldn’t believe he was submitting to his punishment so easily. Would his ability work as well with only one eye? I wondered. Surely he would fight back, or try to convince the servants to let him go. Perhaps after they left the room. I only wished the penalty had been worse. If the king had slit Rafe’s throat, I would have been free of his terrible command.

“Akio, I need her in perfect condition before we begin. I’ve had a room prepared. Make sure she is completely healed before I see her again. An unhealthy, unwilling solution to a problem this immense will only lead to a failed attempt at success.” The king resumed his seat on his throne, spreading his arms to place his hands atop the armrests on either side of his body. He wore two massive rings, one on each hand. I suddenly wondered if he was married — if he’d ever had any