Anna's Suite.
Oredison Palace, Gazda.
The day before the Welcome Dinner.

Kai shut the door behind himself and just stood there, the two of us face to face in the small entryway. I took a hasty step away, nearly knocking over an antique-looking vase in my attempt to put space between us. Whatever emotion he saw on my face made him wince. The pain that filled his eyes had me resisting the urge to step forward. It had me digging my nails into my palm. For a moment, the only sound was our heavy breathing and the soft clink of Anna's paintbrush as she rinsed it in a glass of water.

"I...I'm sorry." Kai's voice was hoarse as he said, "I didn't know you were here."

I swallowed down what was left of the scone I'd been eating and cast a glance down the hall, checking to see if Anna had heard Kai's voice. I made sure to keep mine at a whisper as I said, "Caine told me he left guards...?"

He scratched nervously at the back of his neck. "Yeah. They're a bit distracted currently. I doubt they'll be back any time soon..." There was a long pause and then he said, "Look, Monroe, I—" Kai moved forward, reaching for me.

"No." I wrapped my arms around myself defensively and moved back another step. In my panic to get away from him, my hip hit the table and the vase tipped. In an instant, Kai was there, his body caging mine in, one hand braced on the table and the other holding onto the vase, keeping it from shattering. Carefully, he righted the piece of art.

His body was now so close to mine that all I'd need to do is rise up on my toes and I could kiss him.

The thought, the desire, was so raw and unfiltered, that it took every ounce of self-control I had to keep still. I was used to leaning into him. So damn used to letting him hold me up when I felt myself slipping.

The loss of Kai was something I'd been silently mourning for weeks. And now, being so close to him, all I wanted was for things to return to how they'd been before. I wanted to trust him. I wanted him to be the young man I'd fallen in love with. But it was difficult to look at him without seeing what that night had been like—how Uri had died and bled, and how he had worn that same crown and betrayed all of us.

He'd betrayed me.

Kai glanced down the small hallway to the brightly lit sitting room beyond. When the sound of Anna's painting didn't cease, he swallowed and turned back to me. "I'm sorry."

I didn't know what he was apologizing for. Standing so close? Breaking my heart? Lying to me? Letting Uri die? Being the king of a country that wanted me either dead or on the throne? Too many choices. There were so many things that needed righting, it was difficult to know what hurt those two words were meant to soothe.

I kept my voice down as I said, "If Caine catches you here with me, he'll—"

"I'll be gone before he returns." Kai didn't move away from me as he explained, "He's busy with visiting dignitaries from Pellarmus. They'll probably keep him distracted for a while."

My brows rose. "Pellarmus?"

He nodded. "The letters Caine got yesterday. One was about my mother's arrival and the other was from an envoy of Pellarmi ambassadors docked on the coast. I think they're here to experience the Culling and meet me—" He shook his head and shrugged. "Regardless of their reasons, they've requested we house them and, in an effort to keep the peace, we're sort of obligated to do so."

"So, why aren't you with Caine? Shouldn't you be off playing king?"

A muscle in his jaw ticked and he shook his head, dismissive. "This isn't a game to me. You know it isn't."

"Funny, because you sure played me like it was a game."

He closed his eyes. "I should have told you everything—"

"Yes, you should've."

"But I didn't. And now we're here." He looked at me again, those golden-brown eyes beseeching. "If I could go back and change things, I would. But I can't. None of us can go back. All I can do is try to make things right."

I hated how my eyes burned as I said, "It's bigger than you and me. Our friends are in danger. Carina—Carina and everyone else left in Third Corps are prisoners now. Dee, her son, Kit, all those children, the refugees. They came to us for help and you led them into danger. No one is safe anymore. My brothers are in prison. Heidi and Nadia are going to have to fight to the death in less than two weeks. My mother is at risk. At any minute Caine could decide to hunt her down and hurt her." My voice broke. "Kai, there's no fixing this."

"I know that. I know it, but I have to try." His voice was soft, frighteningly gentle as he said, "Monroe, I need you to know that restarting the Culling wasn't my idea. I've fought them every step of the way. I don't want this. I have no desire to continue the competition. Caine—He's trying to appease the masses. People want to know that their valued traditions are safe. I told him that there had to be another way—a better way—"

"But you won't say that to the reporters, will you? Instead, you'll quote religious bullshit. You'll tell them it's an honor. You'll stick to the damn script he's written for you."

Kai swallowed and ran a hand through his dark hair. It was damp. The black strands had grown out and now curled around his ears. It fell in waves across his forehead and tangled in his lashes. Handsome. Goddess, he was so handsome. My heart ached at the sight and I had to swallow down the tightness in my throat.

Home. Kai was home.

He smelled like coffee and the tonic he sometimes used to soothe sore muscles. His hands—now the hands of a king—we're still edged with pencil smudge. Those strange tattoos, the gold and black echo of rivers—Erydian rivers, I now knew—had been traced by my hands once. I'd kissed each inked line.

The young man standing before me was familiar and warm and everything I'd once believed was synonymous with safety.

I wanted to lean into him.

I wanted to push him away.

I wanted to scream.

As Kai lowered his hand to his side, the back of his fingers brushed down my arm. The touch was feather-light but it felt like burning coals, like spring sunshine after a long cold winter. His throat bobbed as his eyes trailed down the length of my body, his gaze turning soft as he mapped each bruise and cut and blister. As he studied my empty ring finger—the place where his birth-mother's ring had once sat.

"If I don't do what he wants, Monroe—" My name was a plea, a prayer on his lips. "He'll hurt you, love. He'll...He'll hurt you and I can't—I can't let him—I have to find a way to be smarter. Outright defiance won't—It can only end with you hurt."

"He's already hurting me," I hissed, pulling my hands from his reach. "And if I'm put in an arena against Kinsley, I'll continue to be hurt."

"I won't let it get that far."

"And what about Nadia and Heidi? They fight in two weeks. Two weeks, Kai. Are you going to let it get that far?"

"Caine intends to see you crowned. He knows the only way to keep me under his control is to keep you under his." He reached for my hand and I flinched away. The anger etched on his face melded into surprise. His lips parted and he shook his head. "Monroe, I'm sor—I didn't mean—Please—"

The tears were real now. Weeks' worth of pent up rage and hurt spilling out in a quiet sob I couldn't control. "So, I'll be the next girl chained to that throne then?"

He closed his eyes against the memory I'd conjured. The shine of blood against white marble tiles. The glassy look in Uri's eyes. Kai's voice shook. "No." The word was raw. "What happened to her—she—" He didn't meet my eyes as he said, "You know that I had nothing to do with what happened to my sister."

"You don't have a right to call her that."

His throat bobbed and he shook his head, banishing the expression of hurt from his face and replacing it with one of resolve. "Do you think I liked watching her die?"

"You could have told me Caine's plans and we could have stopped it. But you let her get shot. You let her die on that stupid throne. And now it's yours. Now all of this is yours."

"I didn't chain her to the throne, Larkin did."

"Maybe, but it might as well have been you."

I knew I didn't mean it.

I knew, as I looked at the tightness in his stance, the shining in his eyes, that I didn't really blame him for what had happened to Uri. I knew, despite all the wrongs Kai had done, her death had been an accident—a set up by Larkin. Even if he'd told me the truth, there was a very good possibility that Larkin would have still put Uri on that throne and she still would have died in her sister's stead.

But I couldn't take the words back now. I wanted him hurt. I wanted him to feel what I did. The guilt, the shame, the brokeness. And so I didn't apologize. I only held his gaze—wishing he'd fight with me. Yell at me.

I had so much damn rage.

And he was so calm. So, quiet.

Patient.

Kai's voice was soft as he said, "I know you don't believe me, and you don't have to, but I love you. I love you and I will do whatever it takes to make sure you are safe. Not telling you the truth was a colossal mistake and I may spend forever regretting it, especially if it costs me you. But, let me promise you this: my mistakes will not lead to your death. You will not die here, Monroe. I will not allow it."

I lifted my chin, trying to banish the sudden trembling in my bones as I said, "Let's get something straight, Kai. I am not asking you to save me. I don't need to be rescued. I'm exactly where I'm meant to be. I'm going to be queen. I've already resigned myself to it. But I'll be damned if I have to walk on the corpses of my friends to take the throne. If you want to save someone, save Nadia. Save Heidi. Get off your ass and save your brother."

He recoiled slightly at my words, but he didn't move away from me. We still stood so close that we were nearly sharing breath. His arms were flexed on either side of me, his hands white-knuckled fists on the tabletop.

"Fine," he pushed back from the table and surrendered a step. For a moment, I thought he might leave or go further into the room and greet his mother, but then he turned back to me. "Caine might fall for that. He might think you're genuine. He might believe you really want to be queen and you're willing to hurt people to get there, but I know you. I know you, Monroe Benson. And I know you don't want a crown. You don't want any of this and you never have." He shook his head, giving me the smallest of smiles as he said, "But I'm not even going to bother trying to tell you what to do—because you've always been shit at following orders."

I crossed my arms over my chest, the gesture more comforting than defiant. Suddenly the anger was gone and I was drained. I was too tired for this—too tired to fight with him. I just wanted a way out. It felt like I was the person in Anna's painting—like I was drowning and no one was there to help me. I knew that Kai cared, but he was capable of doing more than he was.

I knew it.

"You trained me," I said. "You trained me and you scolded me for hesitating. After the Linomi mission, after you'd been shot, you told me to never hesitate to protect myself. You told me to strike first. Why aren't you doing that? Why—" My throat ached and I had to swallow down my rising anxiety as I asked, "Why the hell aren't you fighting back, Kai?"

He tugged at the collar of his shirt and ran his hand through his hair, combing his hair back from his face. I realized then that he was dressed for sparring—his loose cotton shirt and athletic pants similar to what he'd always worn during our runs in Third Corps. Judging by the flush in his cheeks and the slight dampness of his hair, it seemed that he'd just finished with a workout.

It was an escape, the running. A respite from everything.

He'd once told me that he thought he could figure out any problem with a good run.

"It gives me time to think," he'd said.

What had he been thinking about during these most recent runs?

Me?

"There are guns everywhere," I whispered. "Guns and knives and tons of other things. Why—" I forced myself to look at him, meet his stony gaze. "Kai, you could kill him. I know you could."

"It isn't that simple."

"Why not? Why couldn't it be that simple?"

He stepped closer to me, his voice no more than a sharp whisper as he said, "You see me for an hour a day and you assume you know what I'm up to. You think I'm just sitting on a throne twiddling my thumbs while you're being caged. You have no idea what I've already risked. You have no idea how close he's come—how close you've come to being—"

I grabbed a fist full of his shirt, letting the closeness of him ground me. "Let him hurt me. Let him kill me if it comes to that. But you—Kai, you can't let him put anyone else in that arena. Not to save me. Not to protect me."

His gaze drifted to my hands, the healing blisters there, the long cuts that drifted up my arms, the hand-shaped bruises on my wrists. He was still looking at those marks as he whispered, "Caine has Vayelle on his side. They back my claim to the throne and they are doing what they can to help ensure I remain here—that we all remain here. They've trapped the remainder of Third Corps and won't let them leave camp. He's using them as hostages. Vayelle thinks they're our people and that we'll do whatever Caine wants to keep them safe."

"They are our people."

He met my eyes. "Yes. Yes, they are. They're my people. But they aren't Caine's. And he doesn't give a shit what happens to them. Caine is using them to control me. I signed the edict to finish the Culling because he was going to bomb Third Corps. My choice was to reinstate the Culling trials and find a queen, or see hundreds of innocent people die. It was you in the arena or them turned to ash. I knew what your choice would be. I knew what you'd tell me to do. And so, I chose them. I'm trying. But I have to play this carefully or it will end in everyone's death. Mine, yours, our friends—we will lose far more than just Uri if we don't fight clever."

I thought of the refugee children, the ones who had gathered around me and asked for stories. I remembered how they'd clutched my hands, my clothes, how they'd leaned in, determined to drink in every word I spoke. I remembered being a starving kid, dying for any scrap of hope. They'd seen something in the rebellion and now—now because of us they were in danger.

"He has to be stopped." I twisted my fingers in Kai's shirt. "We have to kill him. Put a bullet through his brain and—"

"Don't you think I would have already done that if I could? Don't you think that's what I want?" He lifted a hand like he might brush my cheek, but at the last minute, he let it fall. "If I do, he's got soldiers ready to launch an attack on Third Corps. They have orders to blow the place up if something happens to him. I'm stuck. I'm king and I have no power."

I lifted my head and looked up at him. "But there has to be something we can do."

"There is... I just don't know what it is yet."

I nodded and moved away from him, letting my hand drop back to my side as I said, "I'm going to compete in the Culling—"

"Monroe—"

"I'm not asking for your opinion, Kaius. I'm telling you." He flinched at the use of his full name. I swallowed, holding his gaze as I said, "Everyone keeps making remarks about how I'm here again. How interesting it is that I've actively tried to escape three times only to be forced back here. Maybe—Maybe everyone is right and it's my destiny."

He put his hands in his pockets and leveled his gaze at me. "You don't believe that."

"I do. Or at least I'm starting to. What other excuse is there?"

"Who says there has to be one?"

"Me. I say there has to be one. There's got to be a reason why I keep ending up here. You can't tell me that it's a coincidence that I found you. That I escaped one prince and one Culling, only to unwittingly stumble into another." I pushed my short hair away from my face and sighed. "Someone has to be queen. And it sure as hell can't be Kinsley."

"I'm not going to marry you. I'm not going to make you queen. Not knowing it's the last thing you want."

I waved a hand dismissively. "Very noble of you. But luckily, it won't be your choice. Caine will do it. You said it yourself, he wants me on the throne. Let him put me there."

"And then what?"

I shrugged, exhausted by the pressure of tacet as it took hold of my system and suffocated my ability completely. I met Kai's gaze and shook my head. "I don't know."

This was a lie.

I knew exactly what I wanted to do after that.

After I'd been crowned, I wanted to burn. I wanted to sit on the damn throne and watch Oredison Palace become nothing but ash. And I would make Caine watch. I would force him to see what he'd done and then—when it was all gone—I'd annihilate him. I'd make him nothing more than a speck on the wind.

I knew I could do it.

I'd done it before.

But I couldn't tell Kai that. I couldn't even fully admit the desire to myself. It was frightening, this surety. This certainty. It was the voice speaking, not me. It was the goddess or my ability or hell itself. But it wasn't Monroe. She was quiet. She was...she was holding on by a thread. And to speak my intent aloud could risk banishing my old self completely.

And I needed to hold on.

I would trade Kai's lie for one of my own.

He didn't tell me he would be king.

So, I wouldn't tell him what I'd do when I became his queen.

Kai glanced down the hall towards the sitting room. He didn't look at me as he asked, "What are you asking me to do, Monroe?"

"Help me get Heidi and Nadia to safety. Help me get Cohen out of here. Anyone else we can save, let's try. There's got to be a way. Then...Then I'll fight Kinsley and I'll win. If Caine can lie to everyone and say that your coronation was peaceful—if he can lie and say that Uri got ill and passed in her sleep—then we can tell everyone that Heidi and Nadia are dead. We can lie and convince everyone that the Culling is over and I'm the queen."

"But can you really kill Kinsley—?" I opened my mouth to respond but he cut me off. "Even if you hate her, even if she's terrible, she's still another person. She's still someone like you. Can you honestly kill her? Can you live with yourself if you do?"

"She—"

"You can barely sleep as it is. You jolt awake with nightmares. You cry out and scream and whimper and sweat yourself into a panic." He held up a hand to silence my protests. "I know. I've held you through it. I have loved you through it. And I will continue to love you, to hold you, if you'll let me. If you'll forgive me. But—But, Monroe, could you really add her to your collection of demons? Can you handle having more blood on your hands?"

I swallowed, wishing I could deny it. I wished I could be stronger than I was. But debating the addition of Kinsley's blood on my hands was like arguing over whether or not a drop of rain would make the ocean overflow. Her death would be nothing in comparison to the damage I would eventually cause. Soaked. I would be utterly soaked in blood when it was all done.

And I wouldn't live long enough to care.

Or, at least, I hoped I wouldn't live long enough to care.

Once I ended the monarchy, someone would put me down. Someone would stop me. They'd have to. And that would end it. The Culling would be done. Finished.

That would be my saving grace.

I swallowed and fought to keep my voice steady as I told him, "She wouldn't leave even if we tried to help her escape. And, honestly, I owe it to Larkin to take something valuable. It sucks that Kinsley's made herself that person—but after what Larkin did to Uri, she deserves to lose someone she cares about."

He nodded slowly, considering me. "But can you do it?"

I lifted a shoulder and let it drop. "I guess we'll find out in the arena."

***

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