Page 136 of The Endless War

He gave a tight nod, and though he knew his sister was less than satisfied with the response, she left the room.

“I don’t suppose you have any ideas?” Keris asked Sarhina.

She frowned at the game board. “None. If I were any of your commanders, I’d refuse the order to march. Petra’s army is massive, well supplied, and rested. Even in conjunction with the rebels, we are outmatched.” She moved a piece, then met his gaze. “Your turn.”

It felt like it was always his turn. His move. And Keris couldn’t help but wonder if this one would be his last. “Before we reach Nerastis, I want to change a law.”

Sarhina blinked. “There is already a law that your subjects mustobey you. Another that they can’t kill you. They’ll happily break both, knowing there will be little consequence from Royce when he takes the crown.” She made a face. “He’s such an imbecile, I almost hope someone sneaks into camp and kills him.”

“Do you know who is next in line after him?” he asked, suddenly curious. His brothers were notoriously good at getting themselves killed, and he’d lost track of which of his younger half brothers came after Royce.

“Parix.”

A laugh escaped Keris, stealing some of the tension from his chest, for the last thing he’d heard about Parix was that he’d been caught having inappropriate relations with a sheep and been banished to the middle of nowhere by their father. “Then it’s a good thing it’s the law of succession that I wish to amend.”

Resting his elbows on the table, Keris explained what he wished to do. Sarhina was silent for a long moment, then she exploded to her feet and paced the rocking deck. “No. This is absolute lunacy, Keris. It won’t work.”

“I disagree.” Rising to his feet, he glanced out the window at the passing coastline, barely visible in the haze of wind and rain. “Either way, I’m the king, Sarhina. While the crown sits on my head, my word is law. Have one of the scribes aboard draft it, and I’ll sign before I disembark. I want it done now, just in case this goes poorly.”

Her hands had balled into fists, pale cheeks red with color. “Maridrina will never accept this, Keris.”

“I don’t intend to give them a choice.” Going to the door, he paused before opening it. “We cannot hide, sister. Even after destroying the rebel forces, Petra’s armies willstillbe massive, well supplied, and rested, and we have always been her target. We fight now with allies, or we fight alone.”

Pushing her dark hair behind her ears, Sarhina scowled at him. “If you’re looking for speech ideas, I’d start there.”

Keris nodded and left the room. A very wet Dax stood outside, though his bodyguard said nothing as he followed Keris to his cabin. “I need you to help me with something,” Keris said once they were inside and standing before a chest on the floor.

“I told you, I ain’t carrying your goddamned books again,” Dax groused. “They’re too bloody heavy, and I don’t see why you need them where we are going, anyway.”

Most of his library had been lost to the fire that destroyed the palace. “It’s not books.”

Kneeling, he flipped open the lid, revealing the shining metal and thick leather of the armor inside.

Dax whistled between his teeth. “Well, that’s a fancy bit of work.”

“Yes.” The chest had apparently been in Coralyn’s rooms, discovered by those salvaging the ruins. The note inside said,Since I am no longer there to guard your back. ~C

It made him wonder what Coralyn would have said if she had lived to see this moment.

“You ever worn armor before?” Dax asked, and Keris shook his head. Much as he’d refused lessons with all the arms instructors or any tuition in battle strategy, Keris had dug in his heels over wearing armor. “I drew a line in the sand many years ago,” he said, more to himself than to Dax. “Refused to cross it no matter how much pain it caused me because I believed my defiance meant something. And perhaps it did, though the one who cared is now dead. So by remaining on this side of the line, who am I defying? What victories can I hope to win?”

Dax shifted restlessly, then shrugged. “I’m not the one to ask.”

Keris barely heard the answer as he knelt to touch the crest embossed on the breastplate. He wished she were here. Wished that it were Zarrah he posed these questions to, but she was somewhere south of here and in dire need of his aid. So Keris answered the question himself. “None. For the dark truth of the world is that peace must be paid for in blood.”

Straightening, he met Dax’s gaze. “Will you please help me put it on?”

“That I can do,” Dax said, the relief at being asked something he could finally answer palpable as he pulled the armor out of the chest. “Turn around.”

Keris stared at his reflection in the mirror while Dax strapped the armor onto him. It felt as though, with each piece of metal that wasattached to him, he was letting go of a piece of the mask he’d worn all of his life. Casting off his last protection against a world that stood at odds against him, for he could no longer hide behind it.

Not if he was going to change the world.

Belting on his sword, Keris clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Thank you.” Then he went back on decks.

Eyes moved his direction as he strode through the rain and up the stairs to the quarterdeck, where Aren stood at the helm. The King of Ithicana’s eyebrows rose. “Nice outfit.”

“Kiss my ass.”

---