Soro starts to say something but stops when he notices more drops falling on me. Slowly, he smiles, reminiscent of the smiles from his youth, before his bitterness turned him into who—or what—he is now.
“What a childish, hateful villain you are,” I say.
He chuckles without humor. “I gave you a chance. I gave you a choice, Maeve. You could have had it all…” he replies.
“Soro,” Vitor says. “Donotdisrespect Maeve. She’s exactly like her grandmother—a fierce warrior who took on everything thrown at her. You would do well to learn from her example.”
From one short breath to the next, Soro shoves his face into Vitor’s. He was always absurdly fast, his speed a marvel, even among elves.
“You believe her so special. Why? I’ve doneeverything, all my life, to please you. And it was never enough, was it?” He turns his head, glaring at me with unapologetic loathing. “No, your little Maevealwayscame first.”
“Not little Maeve.Queen,” I fire back. I spit out blood, straightening as much as I can while ignoring the pull of my strained muscles. My eyes, ablaze with fury, shift between Vitor and Soro. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? That’s why you didn’t kill me along with my family!”
Vitor maintains his composed demeanor, as he always has, hands behind his back and shoulders relaxed. I wait for him to degrade Soro for his insolence. But that well-earned knockdown doesn’t come. He nods thoughtfully. “You’re here to make my son a king, yes.” Darkness overtakes the sharp planes of his face, and it scares me more than a strike ever could. “As a regent and his heir, we will never be kings unless we marry the heirs to the throne. With Andres out of the picture, you’re the only one with the power to change our station and keep power consolidated in one house.”
“Why even mention Andres?” Soro asks, scowling. “After what happened, he proved he’d never be strong enough to do what it takes to keep Arrow in power.”
My throat is on fire. Everything I had is gone. And here these knobs stand, without care for anyone but themselves. “How dare you speak of Papa that way?” I demand, grunting when more of that damn condensation trickles onto my head. “He would have made my grandmother proud—”
“How?” Soro asks me. The faraway screaming switches to abject terror. But Soro stands before me unaffected. “Andres refused to do what needed to be done. And so did you.”
What?
Vitor curses, then throws back his head and laughs. “What a fool I was,” he says. “Why,whydid I tell you?”
Soro spits on the ground. “Because like always, you underestimated me.” Hurt punctuates each syllable, compounded by rage. He turns back to me. “You had everything, Maeve. Same as your father. Instead, you both fucked over our great leader.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but the darkness in his expression makes my heart hammer. “I know Papa didn’t kill the queen. I know it!”
Soro saunters toward me, adjusting the dagger secured to the sheath at his hip. “Then who did, Maeve?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder at Vitor. “Tell everyone here who killed our queen.”
“It was—”
I cut myself off, examining everyone in my cramped surroundings. Ugeen and the ogren generals wait for my response, curious as to who I might accuse.
Who will I accuse? It wasn’t them—they’re genuinely waiting for my answer.
Was it Vitor? No, not with how he loved the queen.
Soro raises an eyebrow. “It wasn’t me. I was with these very men in the castle before the fire started and I was forced to intervene.”
Vitor’s forehead creases, creating four deep lines soaked in sweat.
It had to be someone who isn’t here. Or dead, or…
I start breathing fast. Too fast. I start coughing, no, choking. I know Father was wrong about what happened. How could my sweet papa have left his beloved mother to die, let alone shoved her into the flames, as Soro accused?
The thundering hooves above force the stalactites to release their moisture like falling rain. Thick drops the size of pebbles fall from overhead
My body crumbles. No. Not my papa. They are all wrong.
Soro is mere feet from me. I should be thinking of ways I can secure his dagger—get him close enough to do something. But I can’t.
“Tell her,” Soro says quietly. “Tell her what you finally admitted to me.”
Vitor’s jaw clamps shut.
Soro removes his dagger from its sheath, tosses it into the air, and catches it. By my next pant of air, he’s on me. He yanks my hair, pulling up my chin. As if he has all the time he needs, he skims the tip along my jugular.