Page 71 of Heir

“It’s him, R’zwana,” said the grizzled Jaduna who’d been guarding the door, peering at Quil. “I was part of the delegation to Antium eight years ago. I remember his face.”

R’zwana could’ve lit the older man aflame with her glare. “Do not defy me, D’rudo.”

“Seems like he’s stating a fact,” Sufiyan offered. “But you two can sort that out. We have a ship to catch, so if you could unbind her, we’ll be on our way.”

“You’ll pardon her and let her go,” the Raan-Ruku snapped. “After she has clearly flouted the very letter of the law by—”

Quil sighed as R’zwana rattled off a list of grievances. He’d been at court enough to know that if you let petty people argue, they’d never shut up. The Jaduna could probably turn Quil into a gourd with the snap of a finger. But Arelia was alone and the Kegari were crawling through the city like roaches. They needed to get out of here.

He was the crown prince of the bleeding Martial Empire. It was time these Jaduna realize it.

He recalled his aunt’s flinty gaze when her council of advisers was being especially intractable, the way she’d tilt her head, and everyone suddenly thought thrice about crossing her.

Quil felt the change in his body, the iron in his spine, the press of his thumbs into his knuckles as his fists clenched. All of them sensed it, and R’zwana, still ranting, fell silent.

“Our two nations have a treaty.” Quil silently thanked his droning pill of a tutor, who insisted on the prince memorizing said treaty. “Honor it. Or I’ll be forced to draw my weapon. You’ll call on your magic. And we’ll have a diplomatic incident on our hands.”

R’zwana’s eyes were dark, like her sister’s, but devoid of Sirsha’s humor and warmth. What Quil saw instead was a festering insecurity that she worked hard to hide. Quil kept talking. Kept making her angrier.

“You hate your sister. That much is clear. But it’s not my problem.” Quil slowly let drop the blade in his sleeve, and drew closer to R’zwana, preying on her outrage, the way he’d seen his aunt do to others a hundred times. Until, in one swift motion, he had a dagger at her heart.

“Let her go. My patience grows thin.”

A moment later, the young man named J’yan sliced through Sirsha’s bonds, his knife flashing.

“I, too, am Raan-Ruku,” J’yan said to R’zwana. “I don’t relish telling the Raani that her daughter died in a knife fight with a Martial.” He spat the last word like it was poison. Quil suspected that venom was because Quil had pronounced Sirsha his fiancée.

“She might be Jaduna-born,” J’yan said. “But she’s Jaduna no more. Let her go. We have a killer to hunt, and no time for foolishness.”

A vein pulsed at R’zwana’s temple. Then she smiled. The sudden shift was so unnerving that Quil grasped his dagger tighter.

“If they are engaged,” she said, “then let him speak the words of fidelity. TheJadunawords, witnessed by the appropriate party.”

“His Highness doesn’t have time to wait for a member of the Jaduna clergy to show up,” Sufiyan said, scorn dripping from every word. “He’s a Martial prince, for skies’ sake. His word is good.”

R’zwana fixed her stare on Sirsha. “It’s not his word that’s the problem. Worry not. Any full-coined Jaduna can perform the ceremony with a few words.”

“Enough.” Sirsha’s voice shook. “R’zwana, this is unnecessary—”

“Iknewyou were lying!” R’zwana grabbed Sirsha’s arm and hauled her up. “Engaged! As if anyone would want to marryyou.” Sirsha winced, and at the sight of her misery, Quil’s temper snapped.

He didn’t know why he found R’zwana’s contempt for Sirsha so repugnant. Perhaps because he couldn’t imagine treating Arelia or Sufiyan this way. Or because, despite Sirsha’s dissembling, there was something oddly endearing about how terrible she was at it, and it made him want to protect her.

Whatever the case, he was in R’zwana’s face before he realized what he was doing.

Sufiyan stepped close, voice low. “Probably shouldn’t kill the Jaduna, Quil.”

“What are the words?” he said to R’zwana, dead quiet. “I’ll say them.”

Sirsha stared at him in surprise and R’zwana took a step back. Quil’s initial dislike of the woman burgeoned into something like loathing. She had no interest in treaties or laws or logic. She just wanted to kill her sister. At some point, she’d think of a reason to justify it. The longer they dragged this out, the more likely it was that she would conjure another loophole, and the longer they’d be stuck in bleeding Jibaut.

He didn’t know much about Jaduna vows—his tutor had focused on treaties. A Martial troth took some undoing because families and assets were involved. But theyweredissolvable, and Quil had never heard anything indicating that a Jaduna engagement was any different.

“Make it quick,” Quil said. “As Sufiyan said, we have someplace to be.”

“Very well.” R’zwana’s surprise was evident. “J’yan, the words of witnessing.”

The other Raan-Ruku hesitated, and Sirsha’s sister gave the man a look so blistering that Quil was surprised his skin didn’t peel off. J’yan sighed.

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