Page 112 of A Crown of Lies

“We spoke of the future, and Brucia’s place within it.” The prince forced a smile as he sat back, one leg crossed over the other.

Eris had refused him, but he had learned much since his meeting with the queen yesterday. She had taught him the error of his ways. Prince Michal had assumed the queens would share his interest in peace for peace’s sake. Instead, they were just like Queen Olga, just like everyone else. All they cared about was what he could offer to them. He’d come to see that no one cared about the realm. He alone had the people’s best interest in mind and had to act accordingly.

Haarima-jaan eyed him from across the table. “These talks will fail, you know. Brucia and Trinta will go to war. When that happens, where will Ostovan stand? Will you fall with Brucia, or fall in line behind Trinta?”

“Neither,” he said, sipping his tea.

She frowned and lowered her half-empty teacup. “Perhaps you’re not the right person to speak to. After all, it’s only a matter of days before you’re no longer your father’s heir to the throne of Ostovan. Negotiating anything with you is a waste of my time.”

She’s trying to bait you, his mother’s voice hissed in his ear.Don’t take the bait.

His mouth twitched. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

“Unless you mean to somehow secure your place before then?” She lifted the teacup and sipped loudly from it.

He offered a tight smile. “I would like to offer a counterproposal. The Free Cities are always stronger when they stand together. War is in no one’s best interests.”

“It is Brucia that has divided the Free Cities,” Harima-jaan said, waving her hand. “We are simply reacting to their attempts to destabilize Trinta’s government.”

“Perhaps,” he said again. “The truth is, I do not care. You will always blame Brucia. Brucia will always blame you. As long as you rule Trinta and Eris rules in Brucia, there can be no peace.”

The queen narrowed her eyes. “What are you saying?”

Michal tilted his teacup, peering into the deep brown liquid. “It is high time the Free Cities were united under a single banner. A single king.”

She huffed out a laugh. “And you intend to be that king?”

“With you as my queen,” he said, lowering the teacup.

Harima-jaan burst out laughing. She laughed so hard her body rocked forward, and she let out a little snort. When she saw he wasn’t laughing with her, she stopped. “By the Divine, you’re serious?”

“Quite.”

She laughed again, the sound grating and high. “First of all, the very idea of uniting the Free Cities under any single ruler is preposterous. The area is too large, the people too varied. No one king could ever hope to hold it all, especially with Greymark in open rebellion. You would have to kill nearly every king or queen in the Free Cities to make it happen, and you do not have an army capable of such a feat. Second… Why would anyone—let alone the most powerful woman in the Free Cities—chain herself to the bastard prince? You have no standing here in Ostovan, and even less in the wider world. Why would I even consider such a ridiculous proposal?”

He ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek, biding his time before he sat forward and placed the teacup on its saucer. “Have you ever heard of an assassin’s teapot? Wonderful invention. It has three chambers, you see, allowing whomever is pouring the drink to place the poison in only one chamber. He can drink from the same pot as he pours the poison and never be exposed to the poison himself. A true marvel of murder, wouldn’t you agree?”

Harima-jaan stiffened. Her Thousand Cuts reached for their swords.

“What have you done?” the queen demanded.

“I have poisoned you,” he said nonchalantly. “It’s a deadly neurotoxin concocted by your very own Veiled Vipers. You’re likely already feeling the effects. The quick heartbeat. The clammy hands… That’s the poison going to work, I’m afraid.”

The Thousand Cuts drew their swords, but he didn’t flinch.

He eyed her guards. “Kill me, and your queen will die. You’ll never find the antidote in time. And you…” He turned his attention to the queen. “You will die before you ever leave this room if you refuse my terms again.”

She shot to her feet. “This is an outrage!”

He sighed and turned his head to examine the vase on the table next to him. “You’re running out of time, and I am running out of patience.”

One of the Thousand Cuts suddenly made a choking sound and grabbed for his chest. His eyes flared wide and his sword clattered to the floor, his body jerking. He made a gurgling sound as blood leaked from his eyes and nose.

“Hmm,” Michal observed, and cocked his head to the side. “It’s working faster than I anticipated. Perhaps I misjudged the dosage.”

The queen gasped and stepped away as the second of her guards went to his knees.

He wrapped a hand around his throat, also bleeding from the eyes. A hand outstretched, he pleaded desperately, “My queen!”

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