Page 179 of The Inadequate Heir (The Bridge Kingdom 3)

It was the truth. Under her aunt’s rule, nothing would ever change. And the chance for Zarrah to sway her had been eradicated, if it ever existed at all.

There was only one option left.

While she’d be executed for it, Zarrah had the hope that Bermin would be better, for at least her cousin still possessed his humanity.

Whereas this creature was devoid of the quality entirely.

Zarrah closed her hands over her aunt’s throat and squeezed, silencing the laughter.

And leaving panic in its wake.

Her aunt’s eyes bulged, and she squirmed and struggled beneath Zarrah. But the Empress had taught Zarrah every trick she knew. And Zarrah capitalized on that knowledge even as she squeezed harder.

Her aunt’s face purpled, her eyes wide and frantic, and Zarrah watched as she lost consciousness. Tears flooded down her cheeks, but she didn’t let go.

Then a battering ram struck her in the side.

All the air drove out of Zarrah’s lungs, her head slamming against the tiles, and she vaguely made out Welran’s face above her. Boots pounded against floor as guards poured in, several moving to help her aunt’s bodyguard restrain Zarrah.

The Empress’s voice, soft and strangled, said, “She tried to kill me. She’s a traitor. A cursed traitor in bed with Maridrina. Arrest her! She’s charged with treason.”

The world swam in and out of focus, but Zarrah forced herself to center on the Empress. “Yes, Auntie. Arrest me. Try me for treason and give me atrial.” Because the law demanded it, and Zarrah was prepared to ensure thateveryonein Pyrinat, and in Valcotta, heard what she had to say about their ruler.

The Empress was quivering, Welran having moved to support her, but it was false weakness. For the eyes that stared back at Zarrah heldnothingbut fury. “No, dear one. There will be no trial for you. No execution. For what you’ve done, it must be Devil’s Island.”

Horror filled Zarrah’s chest, and on its heels came terror unlike anything she’d ever known, bile burning up her throat because to be sent to that island was to be sent to hell on earth. “No, Auntie. Please, please don’t send me there!”

“If you couldn’t face the consequences, you shouldn’t have betrayed me.”

But treason meant execution, notthatplace. “Just kill me now. Please.”

The Empress only gave her a cold smile. “Put her in shackles. And gag her. Leave her traitorous words for those who will greet her on Devil’s Island’s shores.”

88

KERIS

The rumor that he’d killed Serin in cold blood swept across Vencia like a tidal wave, repeated over and over until all swore it was truth. And although no one wept for the loss of Maridrina’s spymaster, the knowledge that their new king had murdered him in cold bloodchangedthings.

There were no more cheers. No more songs. And Keris felt a wariness in their eyes when he passed, his people no longer certain that he was the harbinger of change.

No longer certain that anything had changed at all.

Though in truth, he barely cared. Only went through the motions of rule, his mind consumed with waking nightmares of what the Empress would do when she learned the truth. He’d wanted to shut the gates to the city. To lock everyone inside until he figured out a way to stop Serin’s messengers.

Except he’d known it had been too late.

Serin had set the wheels in motion long before his plunge to his death, likely the moment he’d learned Keris’s father was dead. And not the fastest ship nor the fleetest horse could take Keris to Pyrinat in time to save Zarrah from the truth.

So instead, he forced himself to push forward. To begin negotiations with Ithicana for the return of Maridrinian prisoners. Set things to right in every possible way, because the moment the spies brought word of her fate, he was done. There were some hurts that no heart could endure, least of all his.

Serin’s flock acted swiftly, though whether it was a blessing or a curse, Keris wasn’t certain.

“News from Valcotta,” Dax said, handing Keris a folded piece of paper, then leaving the room.

Keris sucked in a deep breath, then leaned back in his chair and drained his glass while he stared at the paper he’d set on his desk. Slowly, he extracted a knife, the edge glittering sharp, and set it next to the paper.

Please let it have been quick,he silently prayed.Please don’t let her have suffered.

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