Page 20 of Darkest Heart

“I’m the one asking the questions here,” he snarled, his voice growing deeper. “Now tell me, before I throw you back with the mortals.”

Don’t show you are afraid

“I’m not afraid of you,” I said back, keeping my voice as calm as I could.

“Lies,” he hissed, but his forehead wrinkled as he leaned closer. “What did the gods say?”

“Lie,”the voice said again so clearly that I whipped my head around to make sure it wasn’t coming from someone inside.

Before he could snap again, I cleared my throat. “I don’t care about the sangaree. My mother took me from here when I was a baby, because my father was insane,” I said, telling him what he most likely already knew. “I never wanted to become a princess, but I had no choice. I was protecting the people I cared about, but then my best friend was killed by Kalon, and now, I’ve been kidnapped by you. So, trust me, I’m not worried about telling you what I know. I only ask why because if you plan on bringing down the monarchy, I want in.”

Gods, I hoped he bought it. I kept my expression devoid of any emotion, swallowing everything else. What I said was half-true. I didn’t want to become the princess at first, and Draven was killed, and I did hate Kalon. But I’d grown into my role. The gods wanted me on the throne, to rule and bring back the sangaree from darkness, to bring order to this kingdom again. I loved Sebastian, and in some way, even my parents. My friends were vampires, and this life was all I had now. Gods knew I would do anything to protect it.

“You don’t want to be queen?” he asked, his beady eyes glazed with suspicion. “All that power, wealth, and influence. I would want it, if I were you.”

“He’s baiting you,”the voice warned.

“I’ve never cared for those things,” I said with a shrug. “If I rule, I’ll have to pander to my uncle and others like him, and their stupid traditions and politics. I just want him dead.”

His head tilted, dark veins moving like rivers under his ashy-gray, thin skin, which appeared as if it had been stretched to its limit. “You wish to kill your uncle?”

I nodded. “I hate him. I never wanted any of this.”

“You are lying.”

“Am I?”

The voice sounded again.“Careful.”

“My uncle is evil,” I added, but my intuition tugged me in a different direction. “My father’s worse, though,” I lied, watching him intensely. “He doesn’t care about me,” I continued, and his eyes narrowed, his breaths evening. “He pretends to, but he only wants to use me as some puppet to be used in his games of politics, and I am tired of being pushed around.”

He leaned back in the chair, his bony fingers knotting together on his lap. “If that is true, then why didn’t you flee?”

My mouth dried. I said I didn’t care about Sebastian or anyone else. Why wouldn’t I have run? I didn’t move, concentrating on keeping my breathing steady, and to keep my tone from wavering.

“Erianna.”

Her name floated in my mind, and I inhaled sharply. “My friend,” I said calmly. “After Draven was killed by my uncle, she’s the only person left that I care about.”

“Not your mother?”

“She’s the reason I’m in this whole mess.” I rolled back my neck, feeling the satisfying click in my shoulders as the ache faded. “I couldn’t care less what happens to her.”

“You’re colder than I was told.”

“Your source clearly wants you to underestimate me, then.”

He dragged a finger along the arm of the chair, the nail scraping over splintered wood. “I will consort with the council.”

“Council?” I probed.

“Yes. We have our own king. He may not be crowned by the gods, but he was picked by his people.”

“That’s worth more.”

The skin where his brows should be pulled in toward his long nose. “I agree.” He paused, looking me up and down. “So…If you do not care for them, or the monarchy, then why were you crying so much when you first arrived?”

I shot him an incredulous glare, deciding my composure of indifference and carelessness was the best way to continue. “I was tied up and made to sit in my own feces, naked, and cold. I missed Erianna, and my comforts.”

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