Page 59 of In the Ravenous Dark
“And what if they never let me close to the king, into his inner sanctum?” I continue, ignoring him. “Even if you’re the perfect guardian, what if I remind everyone too much of my father and they keep me away?”
“Kineas will become king. You’ll be close by necessity.”
“Cylla didn’t live long enough to become queen. Wards never last that long.” By design, perhaps, so no bloodmage or guardian ever could come close to this inner sanctum?
“Your children will be his heirs, and I’ll be assigned as a guardian to the one who inherits your bloodline. In four hundred years, I’ve never been this close. Never trusted enough. Until now.”
I’m nearly spitting with rage. “So you’ll use me andthem, my nonexistent future children, to get to the king?That’swhat you want from me? You’ll just ride your wards like a caravan, one generation to the next, until they take you where you want? I’m not a fucking horse and cart, Ivril! And I’mnevergoing to have children with that monster, so you can get that thought out of your insubstantial skull right now.”
“Ivril,” he repeats. “Why would you call me that?”
“I don’t know!” I explode. “Convenience? I’m busy yelling, and it’s short?”
“I just haven’t heard that in a long time. It was an old family nickname.” He shakes his head, as if ridding himself of some memory. I can’t bring myself to care.
He continues, “As much as I admire your determination, you might not have a choice in any of this. As you well know, Cylla didn’t. She never wanted to be crown princess, let alone pass the burden of her bloodline on to her daughter Lydea like an heirloom in the family collection. But she did. She was made to.”
“By her guardian.” I meet his eyes. “I’ll kill whomever I need to before I let that happen. I’ll killmyself.”
He stares back. “You know I can stop you. That’s my job.”
“Do you want to stop me?”
“From killing yourself, yes. At all costs. As you so delicately pointed out, your bloodline is my key. But for the rest of it… it depends.”
“Right, if I wereperfectly positioned.” I pause. “So how do I do that?”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “Are you suggesting, somehow, in some way, you might be willing to work with me?”
“Maybe.” I feel just as surprised as he sounds. “If you’ll work withme. It’s not like I have many other options.”
Actually, I have other paths—sigil-lined paths, if only I can figure them out—but I can’t let Ivrilos know that. I have to wear my own mask, pretend to be the perfect ward, just as he’s pretending to be the perfect guardian. We’ll be doing the same thing, really. Falling in line, waiting for the right moment to break rank. And if Ivrilos can help me in the meantime, so much the better.
It’s not that I’m fine with bloodlines being used as the main course for a host of royal dead, or with the rest of the world becoming theirpaving stones in the afterlife. But I’m not going to simply let myself be a victim, a stepping stone forIvrilos. And I can’t risk my mother meeting the same fate. Because once I’m gone, having served my purpose, there will be no one to guarantee her safety.
Ivrilos can find some other way of accomplishing his ends. If his purpose is grand, mine is simple. I have to protect my mother and get out of here, with Japha and Lydea and whoever else wants to come with me. As soon as we’re all safe,thenI can bend my mind to figuring out how to free the bloodlines. Preferably when I’m as far away from Thanopolis as possible.
Not that I can do any of that without freeing myself from my guardian first.
I bury my face in my hands, half to hide any duplicitous thoughts that might betray me, and half because I can feel despair clinging to me, grasping, trying to pull me down. There are some things Ican’tpretend. And maybe that’s where Ivrilos can help me.
“I just can’t—” I choke for a moment. “I can’t… with Kineas. I need some way to avoid him.”
“I don’t know that there is one,” my guardian says slowly. “I doubt the king would break off the engagement—your bloodline is too valuable. And attempting to make that happen will only make him trust you less. Make your position less ideal.”
“So, what, I’ll just pretend to smile and you’ll just pretend to kiss me in order to hide that it’s actually Kineas? I’m afraid that won’t work, especially not now that I’ve had the real thing from you.”
His mouth opens. Then closes. Finally, he manages, slightly hoarse, “It might not come to that. You have three weeks until you wed.”
“And then what? You’ll charge in and interrupt the ceremony and maybe stab the crown prince while you’re at it?”
Ivrilos breathes a laugh that’s the opposite of mirthful. “I can’t do anything like that until I’ve found my brother. But maybe, with your help, we can manage that task before the wedding.”
Evenhebarely sounds hopeful. And why would he? It’s taken him four hundred years to reach this point. It could take him another fifty, for all he knows.
I don’t have fifty years. I have three weeks until my wedding, and the rest of my life at stake.
“You really want me to do it,” I say incredulously. “Go throw myself at Kineas for the sake of your plan. I can’t believe you.”
