Page 147 of Games of Death and Desire

Stavros lifts his chin. “What do you suggest then, sire?”

King Konram’s attention remains on me. “You’ve proven yourself adept enough to assist in Stavros’s combat classes. I understand you’re quite good with a knife.”

“I—yes.” A chill creeps over my skin. “I can hold my own.”

“And Ster. Torstem has allowed you to get quite close to him during these rituals of theirs?”

I remember the closing of Torstem’s fingers around mine when he helped me to my feet just a few hours ago. “Yes, Your Highness, he has.”

“Then I think the course of action with the best outcome is obvious. The next time his Order of the Wild goes on one of their excursions, find a moment to stab him in the heart or slash his throat. In the ensuing chaos, disable their means of transport and flee after signaling your colleagues by your usual means. Stavros can bring a squad of soldiers to round up the other conspirators. Their distress over Torstem’s death should make them easy pickings. And any remaining followers will be lost without a leader to rally around.”

My heart stops for the space of a few beats.

Stavros makes a rough noise low in his throat. “Your Highness—you’re asking Ivy to assassinate—”

Konram’s gaze slides back to his former general. “Let’s not think of it as an assassination. That would violate the laws of fair trial. But I’m sure I could forgive, even reward, a subject who was caught up in a horrible uprising and found the strength to strike at the instigators before it was too late.”

“I should be the one—”

The king shakes his head at his former general, his expression turning almost bored as if he’s already done with the conversation. “I can’t have Ster. Torstem slaughtered in the halls of the college. The Crown’s Watch will be on guard, and if we have an opportunity to settle the issue sooner, we will. But surely you can see that this strategy allows us the most discretion while removing the primary threat entirely.”

“She is only an assistant,” Stavros insists. “It’s too much responsibility.”

“That’s not how you spoke about her before.” Konram studies me again. “What do you think, Ivy of Nikodi? Do you have the skills and the stomach to carry out this one final task to defend your country?”

Every part of me wants to screamNo.

Images well up in my mind—my sister’s limp body, the crumpled corpse of the man who attacked me years ago, Esmae bleeding out on the floor. My stomach churns.

The king’s eyes pin me in place. Will he see me as a traitor too if I refuse him?

I’ve already cut off my own finger and stabbed a man on this terrible quest. Why wouldn’t he expect me to accept this demand too?

This is what the godlen would want anyway, isn’t it—the scourge sorcerers not just imprisoned but razed from the earth? That’s howtheyhandled the last bunch.

But King Konram wants to keep up the appearance of a fair and honorable ruler before his people. Of course he’d have some minor noblewoman from a backwater county carry out the dirty work rather than handle it directly.

For an instant, a flare of anger cuts through my horror.Thisis the ruler I’ve risked so much to protect? How would he fare in one of those kingship trials if he were put to the test?

The moment the questions flit through my mind, I jolt back to reality with another flood of cold that drenches me from head to toe.

I’m thinking like the scourge sorcerers.

As if any of us can say whether the royal families of the past were the slightest bit more righteous than the one we have now. At least King Konram bothered to ask rather than order.

I square my shoulders, swallowing down my guilt at the traitorous thoughts that gripped me.

Whyshouldn’tit be me with the blood on my hands? I’m more capable than the man before me has any idea of.

“I can do it,” I say, with only the slightest rasp in my voice.

Stavros sucks in a breath, but the king smiles before his former general has the chance to speak. “Then it’s settled. I look forward to hearing of your success.”

“Your High—” Stavros starts, but the mirror is already shimmering back to our reflections.

A taut silence fills the room. I wrap my arms around myself, my fingers curling into the edges of the cloak I retrieved in the scourge sorcerers’ cart.

Stavros spins toward me. “Why did you agree? You can’twantto play assassin.”

---