Page 126 of Powerless

Come on. Trust me. Tell me.

If I can get him talking about the tunnels, get him to take me through them, there’s a chance of him telling me about the one I need to find. I would act like I’m curious, ask questions about the other tunnels in order to learn about one in particular. It’s not my most solid plan, but it’s a start.

He looks me over in a way that vaguely reminds me of Kai. I push thoughts of the other brother away, instead choosing to focus on the one in front of me. The one who is easy to be around, easy to talk to—

Easy to trick, betray, use—

“Oh, yes. There are plenty of ways for me to get out of the castle unseen,” Kitt says with a smile, cutting through my screaming thoughts.

My heart is pounding, my voice quiet when I say, “I’ll take you. One night. You’ll see Loot and your people. What they’re like, what their lives are like...” He’s staring at me so intently that I stop for a moment, swallowed by those emerald eyes I didn’t dare look into a few days ago. “A king who doesn’t know his people cannot be a kingforhis people.”

Despite the truth of my words, they taste bitter in my mouth for the reason behind me voicing them.

All it takes is one seed of doubt, one grain of uncertainty to fester and grow.

And I just planted it.

I give him a reassuring smile as though I’m not lying through my teeth.

Trust me.

“Maybe,” he says, studying me. I fight the urge to try and convince him further, careful not to sound desperate or draw suspicion. “I’ll think on your offer.”

“Kitt.”

The hair on the back of my neck stands up at the sound of that voice. That cold, calloused voice. I slowly turn on my heel to see the king at the end of the hallway, making his way to us. I give him the smallest curtsy, biting my tongue as I offer a small smile.

“Kitt, I need you in the study to finish our discussion with the advisers.” His eyes sweep over me, finally deeming me worthy to look at. They are the same bright green as Kitt’s, and yet, they couldn’t be more different, more...cold. I nearly shiver, reminded of why I could barely meet his son’s eyes. The king’s gaze flicks back up to Kitt before saying, “Now.”

Though he doesn’t sound too thrilled, Kitt replies with a curt, “Of course, Father.” He steps beside the king, ready to walk with him back to the study.

“Go ahead, Son. I’ll meet you there.” His stern voice leaves no room for argument, and Kitt nods slowly in response before throwing me a small smile and turning on his heel.

I can barely stand to look at him, but I force my eyes to meet those of my father’s murderer. He’s looking at me like I’m the scum he scraped from the bottom of his shiny shoes. I can’t stand it, but I force myself to be still rather than squirm under his scrutiny. So I offer him a bright smile all while wondering if it looks like I’m baring my teeth. “Your Majesty.” I say in farewell before moving to go around him, to escape this man and my raging, revengeful thoughts.

His shoes click against the stone floor as he steps in front of my path.

I halt, looking up at his large frame. He’s in great health for his age, making it easy to see where his sons get their strong build and handsome features from. The similarities between Kitt and his father are astounding, but it’s the king’s Brawny ability I’m focused on, reminding me of the fact that he could snap my neck with ease.

“Miss Gray, good to see you made it out of the first Trial mostly unscathed.” He doesn’t sound happy about my well-being in the slightest. “Well, thanks to my son, that is.”

I can only imagine the king’s reaction upon seeing the footage of Kai with me in the Trial. I know he hated it. Hated that his son helped me—a no one, a Mundane, a Slummer.

An Ordinary.

“Yes, I am grateful I had Kai as my partner,” I say coolly, unsure of where this conversation is heading.

“Hmm.” The king looks down at me, eyes narrowing.

Before he can say anything else, I add, “And I am very much looking forward to the next Trial. And the one after that.”

Lies.

I just wanted to see the look on his face when I sounded so confident about surviving that long. I follow up my statement with a fake smile, ready to leave him and this conversation behind when he says, “Let me be frank, Paedyn. You are not winning this.”

I stiffen. “I’m sorry?”

“I know that is what you want. To win the Purging Trials and have a better life for you and your seamstress friend.” He laughs, bitter and biting. “That reminds me. I should congratulate you for the little stunt you pulled with your dress at the ball. You certainly got what you wanted. Reminding the people of theirSilver Savior.”

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