time I’d stepped into his company, Ryo had made another joke at my expense, which would echo and repeat through meaner tongues.
Long before my father signed that contract, I was the lowest girl in court, and I knew exactly who had given me that role.
The king’s guards dumped him at my feet, next to the blood-darkened block.
The crowd rumbled, none louder than a row of Everstriders lined among them. Their matching bleached leather coats hung to the top edge of their boots, belted tight at the waist with three buckles and strings of holy bells. They eyed the king’s guards and the Devout with distrust. One Everstrider kept his eyes on Ryo, his hand touching the sword handle at his belt as if he would protect him. The rest formed a line at the back of the platform.
I pulled my thin knife from my boot and slipped the blade between the fabric and Ryo’s cheek.
King Edvarg protested, “His mouth must be bound.” He loomed closer.
But I would not be intimidated. “He has a right to a last word, sire,” I answered, my voice deep as my father’s.
“His words are lies. Blasphemy.”
“And he has a right to it, Your Highness.”
The king’s glare burned, but he didn’t silence me. The crowd was too close, and with the Everstriders watching so sharply, this moment was a scale too precariously balanced. King Edvarg couldn’t push me, not if he risked tipping.
Prince Ryo licked his dry lips, but he didn’t speak right away. I’d nicked his cheek with my knife, but with the blindfold on, he’d never see it. One of the king’s guards shoved him onto his hands and knees, and pressed his throat onto the blackened stone. Ryo’s jaw trembled, but he made no plea for forgiveness. No demand of innocence.
“My father has a plan,” he said instead. The crowd silenced, hanging on every quiet word, as I was. “The council of five did not betray us. They’ve saved us.”
I leaned in, wanting desperately to believe him.
The vein on King Edvarg’s forehead throbbed. He gestured to the crowd and raised his voice. “So we should allow the queen of the Savak to reach into our hard-earned borders? Should we give away who we are because of some contract?”
Prince Ryo broke through the crowd’s roar. “I didn’t sign it. I’m only suggesting we trust our king—”
“I am the king now.”
“Not my king. My father lives, and I do not relinquish my claim to the throne.”
The Everstriders stepped closer to the platform.
Edvarg’s hand rose, then he gestured at the king’s guards. “Hold him down.”
They pulled the prince’s arms back so high, my own shoulders ached in sympathy. And for what? The rumors were rampant, but he hadn’t signed the contract the way our fathers had. For all I knew, Ryo could have done nothing wrong except stay loyal to his own father.
The crowd roared now, some moving to stand behind the Everstriders, their eyes uncomfortable at this scene, some shouting about blasphemy and treason, whipping up to a frenzy, led by the Devout.
But I was the one holding the axe.
Father had struggled to bear the weight of it, but it was too much responsibility for me to carry. I should be reading my books, or drawing my bow at a Whirligig target, not killing someone.
But I gripped the axe with both hands and inched forward. I could do this. I had to. Only it wasn’t just killing my brother’s best friend. As the King’s Executioner I was choosing which king to follow.
King Vinton left. My father had abandoned me at his royal command. As foul as he was, at least King Edvarg had stayed.
There was no choice here. I had to do it. Our people needed to be united under our new king if we were going to survive the onslaught of the Savak. And I’d tested the new king by allowing Ryo to speak. If I did not do this, I’d make a powerful enemy. If I didn’t do this, there was no way I could stay here and find my brother.
The weight of the axe would do the work for me. All I’d have to do was lift the axe and let the blade fall. It wouldn’t be murder. I was following orders. That was all.
But it was Prince Ryo. He deserved a slap across the mouth, not death.
My guilt and his ghost would haunt me forever.
The crowd roared out for blood, but I couldn’t hear them over the sound of my pulse