Bloodleaf (Bloodleaf #1)(77)

I watched through the crack between the wardrobe hinges as they burst through the door and flooded into the room, wrestling him to the ground and pinning his arms behind him while his face once again became a mask of sardonic calm.

“Boys, boys,” he said glibly, face half-pressed into the floor, “if you rip me limb from limb now, my father will be very angry that you deprived him of the opportunity.”

My fingers curled against the door. I could feel the magic pressing against each tip, eager to be let loose, ready to destroy them all for daring to lay a hand on him. But Zan had warned me against making myself known, so I hung back until they’d hauled him out of sight. Then I made a quick nick on my palm and stepped out from my hiding place. “Ego invisibilia,” I whispered. “I am unseen.”

I slipped in step behind them, and none of them seemed to be the wiser.

Inside the Great Hall, the king—?Zan’s father! I was still reeling at the revelation—?stalked across his throne room, face purple with rage, kicking down anything in his path. “How dare you?” he spluttered. “You little bastard. Dedrick Corvalis was like a son to me!”

The guards released Zan at Domhnall’s feet. Zan reflexively cringed, but after a few moments of measured counting—?one, in, two, out, three, in, four, out—?he was able to control his breathing and his fear, and he straightened to his full height. It seemed to surprise the king to have his son suddenly looking down on him.

“You know, Father,” Zan said, “despite everything . . . I never thought it could be you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zan continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “I told myself it wasn’t possible, since finishing the job would likely kill you, too. And if you are good at anything, it’s saving your own skin. But now I understand why you insisted so doggedly that I go with you on your asinine little hunting expedition, just after I told you everything I knew about what was happening with the wall: you wanted to prevent further meddling in your operation, didn’t you? That explains why you were so adamant about keeping my marriage date within the month of the black moon; on the day we’re married, the princess, too, will be eligible for sacrifice. It helps, I suppose, that all the landholding lords would likely be attending the wedding, so we can all die together.”

Sweat was collecting in beads on Domhnall’s ruddy forehead. Zan continued, “You try to hide behind your brutality and extravagance; you put on a good show. But you’re scared. Your power is dissolving, and you feared it was only a matter of time before someone came and took it from you.”

“Like you?” he asked with a sneer. But there was fear burning on the edges of his voice.

Zan went on: “The answer was simple: find a strong ally, one who would let you keep your crown and title if you followed their orders. Dedrick Corvalis brokered the deal with the Tribunal, didn’t he? Did you promise him, once I was dead, that he’d be your heir? Did he already know blood magic before you reached that deal with our enemies, or did he learn it afterward, solely for the purpose of bringing down the wall?”

“You’re speaking nonsense.”

“Am I?” Zan roared. “I know, I know. I’m a disgrace! A nuisance! You’re ashamed to call me your son. I’ve heard it all before, Father. But you know what? I agree with you. I don’t deserve to be called your son.”

Zan stalked to the Great Hall doors and threw them open, and I continued my whispered chant, “Ego invisiblia.” I am unseen . . .

“Call the Princess Aurelia and her guard to me,” Zan told the guards waiting in the corridor. “And call a scribe.”

They arrived in minutes, Lisette fluttering like a nervous butterfly, Toris prowling behind her like a hound on the scent of a kill. “What is this about?” she asked.

Zan spoke not to her directly but to the gathered audience as a whole. “Let it be written today that I, Prince Valentin, have formally refused to wed Princess Aurelia of Renalt.” There was a collective gasp; Lisette’s mouth fell agape. “In recognition that this is an act of defiance against the orders of the king and a criminal breach of the treaty between our kingdoms, the Prince Valentin has voluntarily accepted the punishment of exile, until the matter can be peacefully resolved through negotiation with the crown of Renalt. If such an agreement cannot be made, Prince Valentin hereby abdicates all claims on the Achlevan throne.”

“Negotiation?” Toris barked. “There can be no negotiation. This is an act of war.”

“So be it,” Zan said. “Achlev’s Wall, however embattled, still stands, and our city remains safe. Better this path than the one that would have it fall and all my people with it.”

Toris’s eyes glittered. I knew then that he was a part of all this, probably from the very beginning. If his daughter married Zan and then died alongside her husband and father-in-law, without heirs, there would be only one person left in line to assume the Achlevan throne: Toris himself.

“Go to your exile, coward,” King Domhnall hissed. “So that I can be rid of you. Just as your mother wanted to be rid of you . . .”

“My mother,” Zan thundered, “loved me. She gave up her life so that I could have mine. And you know what? For the first time in my life, I’m glad. I’m glad that because of her sacrifice, I now have the chance to look you in the face and tell you that as long as I live, you will not win.”