Page 26 of Royal Rebel

Iris was silent for a moment. Then, “Killing is a choice. You didn’t kill your sister, Meerah.”

The words lacked emotion, which didn’t exactly make them comforting. But they surprised Mia enough that her eyes opened.

“You didn’t kill your sister,” the queen repeated. “You just let her die.”

The off-hand words were blades that raked her skin. Her breath hitched and her vision blurred. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Intentions rarely matter. Not where actions and consequences are concerned.” Iris fingered the rim of her teacup. “Prisoner, or princess?” she murmured. “That must have been a confusing puzzle for a child. Once, you had everything your spoiled heart ever wanted. Then you had nothing. Darkness. Isolation. Pain. That became your whole world. And you lost yourself. The princess truly is dead.” The corner of her mouth lifted wryly. “Excuse me; theseraijahis dead.”

Her tone was mocking, but Mia couldn’t disagree.

“You’re barely worth anything to Mortise now,” Iris continued. “You’re broken, Meerah. You’re no longer the person you were born to be. You wouldn’t even know how to fit in there, would you? Your brother, certainly, would be better off without you.”

A voice deep inside Mia—so deep, it had been silent until now, even in the midst of her doubts—roared in rebellion. And yet, with the floral scent in her lungs and her head feeling so heavy, she couldn’t argue. Iris was right. Of course she was right. Why would Mia ever doubt her? Her words made sense.

Perfect sense.

“You could have purpose, though,” Iris said. “And not just the purpose Henri has picked for you. You could be great, Meerah, if you chose to serve me.”

“S-Serve you?”

“Yes. You have two of my sons ready to obey your every whim. I simply ask that you be their confidante. And then you will report to me everything they’re thinking, everything they do. Wouldn’t you like to help me?”

“Yes.”

No!a deep part of her screamed.

Fates, she was so confused. She couldn’t think.

Iris smiled gently. “Good. Now, I’ve learned through experimentation with Jazarah that the effects of the faersin can become difficult to manage. The head can become so clouded, you’re not fully able to answer my questions anymore—or that you’ll stop telling the truth in order to tell me what you think I want to hear. I think we’ve reached that point.” The queen stood.

Jazarah, Mia thought belatedly.Who is that?

“She’s Peter’s mistress,” Iris said, even as she bent to retrieve something from behind her chair. Had Mia spoken aloud? “She doesn’t always remember everything we discuss here,” Iris continued. “I imagine you won’t, either. But she knows enough to give me reports. To whisper in Peter’s ear what I want her to say.” Iris smiled as she straightened, holding a small wooden box.

Mia tried to smile back at her, but she wasn’t sure if she succeeded. Warning flared somewhere inside her at the sight of that box, but she didn’t know why.

The queen placed the box on the table. “Some people have the ability to naturally fight off faersin. Considering how this conversation has gone, I very much doubt you do. But I must be sure. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” The lid of the box was fitted into some sort of groove, which meant it had to be slid aside to open. As Iris pulled the lid to one side, Mia was finally able to see the contents.

Inside was a creature Mia knew well. Her parents had always warned her to be wary of scorpions.

“This fascinating creature is from your homeland,” Iris said. “The venom won’t kill you, but the sting will hurt. A lot. The site of the venom’s entrance will swell and turn red, but that will fade. So will the possible numbness. You may experience a fever if it stings you more than once.”

Inside the box, the sand-colored scorpion skittered on its eight legs, the large pincers clicking once before it froze, the segmented tail curved forward over its body. The stinger was raised high, as if sensing a threat.

Mia sensed the threat, too, but she was unable to react to it. She was trapped, just as the scorpion was.

Iris slid the lid mostly back into place, leaving only a small gap. “Put your hand in the box,” she said.

Mia’s clouded mind didn’t question the order, but her fingertips barely lifted on her lap. “I can’t.”

“You can. You can force yourself to do this for me.” Iris’s fingers brushed across the top of Mia’s head, stroking her hair. “Do it now.”

Mia wanted to please her. She truly did. But her muscles were unresponsive.

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