Alec Beaumont is lying, and as he tells the story of how he was too late to stop Eleanor from escaping, I realize he let her go. Alec let Eleanor go, and the certainty of it settles in my bones.

He let her go, and I read his mind.

I have to talk to the king about my engagement and figure out who I can trust with that information. Quickly.

* * *

Two hours after the tribunal, Victor agrees to see me in his office, and the king’s private chambers still bear the remnants of my psychotic dead brother. Ludovic loved two things: power and himself, and his portrait still hangs behind the desk. The painting shows him in a suit, his fist cramped around the skull of the Zhao King that murdered our mother. The sight dries up my mouth. They strike. We strike back. The endless cycle of revenge has cost both families many lives, and I’m the next in line to be sacrificed.

Victor dumps his quill into the ink pot and leans back on his modern desk chair. “Hey, Ari. What did you want to talk about so urgently?”

I force a cleansing breath down my lungs and close the door to his office behind me. I’m not sure how to break the news of Alec’s betrayal and my new powers, so I bring up the unwanted engagement first.

“I heard about King Pereira. About the arranged marriage.”

Victor fails to hide a cringe. “Damn. I wish I could have told you myself.”

“Why didn’t you? We talked yesterday.”

My voice cracks at the end, but he dares to shrug in response.

“Don’t get too emotional. I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Emotional?

Assaulting the king will only worsen my situation, and so I keep my hands firmly at my sides. “But he’s old! He’s at least 600 years old, and his reputation is that of a lowly, depraved brute—”

“We need Felipe Pereira on our side to defeat the Zhaos. It’s as simple as that.”

“We have the Pereiras. Lucas said—”

“Lucas is insignificant. The Pereiras do not go to war for their allies, but they’ll go to war for family.”

My jaw clenches. Not only is Victor interrupting me every chance he gets, but he clearly doesn’t care for my opinion—or anything I have to say. He used to be so miserable under Ludovic’s thumb. I can’t believe he’s doing this to me now.

“I’m a pawn in your strategy? A mare to be sold for her pedigree?” I try very hard not to raise my voice, not to appear emotional again.

He waves my concerns away. “You always knew you wouldn’t marry for love. I married for power, and I’m perfectly happy.”

“You got lucky with Adele, but it’s an archaic way of thinking. Marriage is not the only solution.”

He averts his gaze. “You should be happy. You’ll be queen.”

“I don’t want to be queen. I just came home, just hired my staff—”

“You’ll be respected. Lucas can stay with you there, and King Felipe will not live forever. Once he’s dead, we’ll rule half the world together.” He picks up his quill again and straightens the stack of parchment in front of him, signaling the end of the discussion.

A cramp squeezes my ribcage as I stand. “He could last a hundred years.”

“What’s a hundred years to us?” Victor’s pen flies across paper. “Look on the bright side, Felipe has had his children, and his legacy is secure. I’m pretty sure he’ll let you go about your life as you please.”

Pretty sure?

“The Pereiras are drowning in cocktails and designer drugs.” I have no way to know these things besides the gossip I overheard growing up and the stories Lucas told me, but I believe every word.

Victor signs his name at the bottom of a few parchments, his quill flying about the paper. “If the court isn’t up to your standards, then you’ll change it. Little by little.”

“So I’m to be a good girl and marry an old drunk?”