Page 151 of A Queen This Fierce and Deadly

Someone began cursing roughly. I lifted my head.

A soldier had been leading his horse toward the stables. It was easy to see what had happened, a tent flap broken free, flying in the wind.

As I watched, the horse threw its head so hard, it yanked its lead rope from the soldier walking with it.

A hoof made contact with the soldier’s shoulder as it reared, sending the soldier flying. The horse bolted toward us, careening down the row of tents.

The yelling turned to panicked shouts. Which turned to curses and—in one case—a high-pitched scream.

Previs attempted to pull me to the right. I slipped my arm free and dove to the left. And then I rolled.

I wouldn’t get another chance like this. This was a distraction provided by the gods themselves. Proof that my planned path was one that they approved of.

At one point, the hybrids had swapped my filthy gown for some soldier’s castoffs. I’d been thoroughly disgusted at being forced to walk around dressed in long pants and a tunic. Now, I more than appreciated the fact that I wasn’t forced to contend with all that fabric while crawling through the gap between two tents.

The horse hadn’t yet been caught, but it would be soon. And those soldiers would turn their attention to the fact that I was missing.

I wiggled faster, keeping my head low. By now, I knew the exact route to get to Zathrian’s tent from anywhere within this camp. When I was several rows away, I could no longer crawl without drawing attention. Here, soldiers glanced with interest at the chaos to our right but continued to go about their tasks.

Getting to my feet, I strode purposefully but not too quickly. My heart was in my mouth as I beelined toward the row that would take me behind Zathrian’s tent. But everyone was too wrapped up in both their tasks and the distraction the horse had caused to pay me much attention. It likely helped that they’d seen me walking this waymany times with Previs.

I almost tripped on a rope holding one of the tent pegs in place, but I took it as a sign, dropping back to my knees as I approached Zathrian’s tent. The canvas was so taut it was difficult to lift, and I was forced to wrestle with it, a sweat breaking out across my forehead as I shoved one arm beneath the tent.

No sound came from inside the tent. My blood turned to ice. Had I chosen the wrong tent? I would have only one chance at this.

I lifted the canvas high enough to shove my head beneath it, conscious that if a jumpy soldier was waiting in this tent, it could be the last thing I ever did.

“Well, well, well.” Zathrian smirked, lounging on one elbow as if he were choosing to lie down and not because he was chained even closer to the long metal pole than I had been. “Why am I not surprised to see you stealing into my tent?”

At that, I shoved with all my strength. If anyone saw my legs hanging out from the side of this tent, I was dead.

“We don’t have much time.”

Zathrian lifted one eyebrow as he took in the dust that covered me. “I’m sure.”

“Do you still wish to take your crown?”

All amusement left his face. “You came here to taunt me?”

“No. I came here to bargain with you. It’s still possible for you and me to be the ones left ruling at the end of this.”

He angled his head but stayed silent.

I gave him a cool, calm look. The look I’d perfectedin Regner’s court. “I spoke to my son. He will use his power for the correct purpose when it is time.”

Zathrian sat up. “I’m listening.”

ASINIA

Demos had been right.

The fact that Regner had allowed Rekja to push his soldiers out of Gromalia didn’t make sense.

Until we received Prisca’s message and the pieces suddenly fit together.

The soldiers Rekja had thought were retreating were really moving west, toward the Asric Pass—where they would slaughter the hybrids who had been traveling toward the pass for weeks.

Regner had waited like an insidious spider himself, as we’d moved our people into his web. How he must have laughed when we finally began sending our people to the pass.

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