Page 99 of Song of the Heart Scale
“Because I’m not asking you to wager them. I’m asking you to listen and decide for yourself if Elaria’s future deserves the boots of tyrants or the spine of resistance.”
He stared at me, hard and unflinching. “You speak like a man who’s tasted battle.”
“I’ve lived it. In exile. Alone, without the luxury of pageantry or shield of nobility. Every inch I’ve taken back, I earned. And I won’t stop now.”
Lord Mercer leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table, his eyes sharp as cut obsidian. “Do you want the throne?”
The question cut to the bone.
“No. But I won’t let Thorne keep it.”
Silence.
Then, slowly, Lord Mercer nodded. “Suppose I did consider your offer. What would you ask of the Nightwing?”
“Surveillance. Intelligence. Tactical placement. You control the lands and the skies. If I can guarantee that the fae will join us—”
He cut me off. “The fae?”
“Lady Arya has been negotiating with Klaus, the grandson of the last fae king. The wards are weakening. If we free them—”
Lord Mercer’s expression finally shifted to mild surprise. “If you get the fae involved, we stand a chance. But if they turn on you...”
“They won’t,” I said with more confidence than I felt.
“How can you be so sure?” He raised a questioning brow.
HowwasI so sure?
“I trust Lady Arya and she trusts Klaus. They have a… bond.”
He considered me. “And what does your Shadow Prince heart want in return?”
I met his gaze. “Justice. For my father. For Elaria. And for every soul Thorne burns trying to keep the throne he stole.”
Lord Mercer stood.
I did, too.
When he held out a hand, I clasped it.
“We’re not allies yet,” he warned. “But I’ll listen again. Tomorrow. Same time.”
“I’ll be here.”
He walked away, leaving me standing there, heart pounding.
I hadn’t won the Nightwing. Not yet.
But it wasn’t a no.
And in this war, even a maybe was worth bleeding for.
It was latewhen I returned to my uncle’s estate. Cat had long ago gone to sleep, and I didn’t want to disturb her by climbinginto bed with the smell of the pleasure house clinging to my skin. I was about to go bathe when the lights to my uncle’s study illuminated and I went to see if he was still awake.
I knocked on the door. “Uncle?”
“Enter,” he said. I pushed the door wider, revealing my uncle seated behind his desk, reading a book. “Why are you out so late?”
