I couldn’t reveal the depth of my revulsion for Zane or the reasons why I hated him. Jase was the first and only person I had ever shared every ugly detail with, and even that had been painful. I had also made a bargain with Zane. A futile, empty bargain of silence, but that slim sliver of hope—I couldn’t let it go. “I have nothing personal against him,” I answered.
“It’s the Previzi, then? I witnessed your tirade against them at the arena—just before you slugged the Patrei. Why do you hate them?”
“Do I need a reason? Their activities are illegal.”
“And yet you were once an accomplished thief.”
“A thief who remembers starving on the streets of Venda. The Previzi never treated people like me kindly, or even with the slightest bit of compassion.” These words I didn’t have to invent. Every one was true. “We were beneath them,” I said. Vermin, crapcakes, nothing. “They paraded their fancy goods past us, then sold them all to the Komizar and rich merchants. They only offered the rest of us their moldy bags of grain crawling with weevils—if that. More often, we were showered with their disdain. Their haughty sneers will always be burned in my memory.”
He studied me. “Hunger is what drove you to become a thief?”
I shrugged. “Starvation can be quite motivating.”
His stare dissected me, the sly king who calculated every move. But a flutter and a fraction of a second revealed dusky eyes that were hungry. He held back, wary. He did not come by trust easily, and I was glad. I didn’t want that moment to come too soon. Tomorrow. At just the right moment. “I understand the sting of disdain,” he finally said, “but that was a long time ago and Zane is useful to me. He’s a comforting, familiar face at the arena. Merchants know him. I’d like you to bury your past grudges.”
I noted his use of the word like, instead of simply ordering me to bury my grudge. Patience, Kazi. He’s circling, swimming closer. I paused as if I was weighing his request. “If he’s useful to you, of course. I will do my best to bury the past.”
“Besides,” he added, “you’re not beneath the Previzi anymore. You work for the king. Soon to be the most powerful king on the continent. Remember that.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
His eyes rested lazily on my face. “In private, you may call me Montegue.”
Closer. But it wasn’t the kind of closer I was ready for just yet.
“You wished to speak about something?” I prompted, hoping to move on.
“Banques informed me you did a thorough job searching today. He was pleased with your work.”
“Really? He seemed disappointed when I spoke with him.”
“The general is not one to lavish praise freely. But he told me you uncovered a few hidden spaces we didn’t know about.”
“Nevertheless, I found nothing.”
“But at dinner this evening Paxton told me you had a moment, as he called it, in the main house. He said you hesitated as if you sensed something. Does this mean you have the gift?”
I f
rowned even as a smile lit within my chest. Well done, Paxton. I played down the abilities that Paxton had seeded, but the king responded exactly the way we wanted him to, like he was reading lines from a play that we had written.
“No,” I answered, “nothing like the queen, if that’s what you’re thinking. But sometimes … I don’t know. I do get a feeling.”
“Paxton thinks we should return there tomorrow and do another search of the main house. I agree.”
I sighed as if unconvinced. Like everything else, it had to be his idea. “As you wish. I’m grateful to be in your employ and at your service, but I can’t promise anything. There was a wing, though, that I had a nagging sense about. I don’t know what it means, but I would like to try again.”
“It’s settled, then. We go back tomorrow.” He paused and looked down at my foot. “I noticed you’ve had a limp this evening. Paxton said you injured it today?”
“My leg?” I said, looking down like I hadn’t noticed. “Oh, it’s nothing. I caught my foot beneath a fallen timber today and twisted my ankle a bit. That’s all. I’m sure it will be fine by morning.”
“We’ll make a stop at Gods Pavilion on the way. You can soak it there.”
I knew he’d want to stop there anyway—Paxton said he almost always did on his way to Tor’s Watch—but my limp assured it. I feigned surprise. “Thank you. That would be helpful—and very kind of you, Your Maj—Montegue.”
I was about to excuse myself, thinking our business was finished, when there was a tap on the door. Dinah opened it gingerly, then entered with a tray holding two glasses and a small crystal carafe of dark amber liqueur. Though he wasn’t stumbling, the king was already well liquored up from a long night of celebrating. One more glass, and I was sure he would be tripping over his feet, and I was certain the second glass was for me.
Montegue released my arm and waved Dinah to a low table in front of a lush overstuffed couch with wooden legs that looked like claws. She set the tray down, then glanced at me, almost impatiently, maybe as a warning. Perhaps she thought I couldn’t handle the king—or the strong drink. Montegue dismissed her, but she looked over her shoulder as she exited the room, her chestnut curls peeking from her cap. I nodded to reassure her, but her eyes lingered on Montegue.