Children of Virtue and Vengeance (Legacy of Orïsha #2)(22)

“Like I said.” He pushes me to the side, taking my place at the edge of the cliff. “If I wanted to take you out, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” He gestures to the fortress’s borders, waving Zélie over. “The Iyika have already attempted jailbreaks. Now every facility in Or?sha is armed.”

“Majacite gas?” Zélie asks.

“Perimeter’s riddled with mines.” Ro?n nods. “Triple the strength of what they used at the rally. Any maji would choke to death before they ever broke out.”

“Then we’ll get masks,” I say. “We can find a way past the gas.”

“Even if you could, the guards will kill everyone inside before they let one maji escape.”

The color drains from my cheeks as his words sink in.

“That’s impossible.” I shake my head. I know this is war, but even Mother couldn’t be that cruel.

“With Lagos choked off, the military can’t afford to lose another city to the Iyika,” Ro?n explains. “They certainly can’t afford for them to gather more soldiers.”

I stare at the twigs on the ground as my plan crumbles like sand. After our success freeing Zélie from Gombe’s fortress, I was sure this strategy would work. Liberating prisoners for our army was the foundation of my attack, the start of my path back to the throne. But if Mother will kill every maji we try to break out …

Skies.

We haven’t even struck, and somehow she’s already won.

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here,” Tzain says, stepping between Ro?n and Zélie. “You expect us to believe you came all this way just to warn us?”

“Come on, brother.” Ro?n smiles. “Where’s the coin in that? I’ve come to collect a bounty from the only person in Or?sha who doesn’t want you dead.”

“I knew it.” I step back. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Good. Stay here. Zélie’s the one they’re after.”

Ro?n removes a note from his pocket and I see the red I that’s been tagged across our path.

“The Iyika?” Zélie reaches for the parchment. “They’re looking for me?”

“The lot hired me to escort you to Ibadan and paid in advance. So, you can come willingly, or I can break out that leather sack.”

I snatch the parchment from Zélie’s hands, studying the assortment of red dots. I think of the rebel who stared me down at my rally, the hatred in her scarred eye.

“The Iyika want to kill me and the rest of the monarchy,” I say. “We can’t go to them.”

“Everyone wants you dead.” Ro?n rolls his eyes. “I don’t blame them. But why waste your time jailbreaking fighters you can’t have when you can join the maji on the winning side?”

I give Zélie a pointed look, but she shrugs in response.

“What other choice do we have?” she asks.

Ro?n smiles at my defeat, waving at us to follow him as he takes the lead.

“Come along, Princess. Let’s see if the Iyika want to kill you as badly as your mother and my mercenaries do.”





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


INAN


STARING AT MY REFLECTION, I don’t know what to think. I don’t recognize the stranger who stares back.

The broken boy meant to be Or?sha’s king.

With all the weight I lost while unconscious, I drown in Father’s crimson agbada. The royal silk still reeks of his sandalwood cologne. Breathe too deeply, and I can feel his hands wrap around my throat.

You are no son of mine.

I close my eyes, muscles spasming in my stomach. The sharp ache makes my teeth grind. It’s like his sword is still buried inside. As I prepare for my first royal assembly, my fingers twist around the ghost of his sênet piece. I hate myself for missing it.

I hate Father more for giving it to me.

“Are you decent, Your Highness?” The oak door cracks open, and Ojore’s bearded jaw sticks through. “I’ve heard the legends of what greatness lies beneath your robes, but I fear I’m far too pure to see it for myself.”

Despite the pain in my side, my cousin never fails to make me grin. He laughs as I wave him over, smile bright against his dark brown skin.

“You’re looking good.” He slaps my shoulder. “Like a king. And look at that!” He pinches my face. “You’ve even got a little color in your cheeks!”

“It’s not real.” I push him away. “Mother made the servants use her powders and paints.”

“Anything to hide that horrible face.”

The warmth he carries into Father’s frigid quarters stirs something in my chest. Tall, lean, and handsome, Ojore looks like a portrait in his new admiral’s armor, but it doesn’t cover the burn scars feeding onto his neck.

We haven’t been together since he was my captain at the naval academy, yet he’s still like the brother I never had. He seems to sense my thoughts as he slings an arm around my shoulder, joining my reflection in the mirror.

“The admiral and the king.” He shakes his head, and I grin.

“Just like we planned.”

“Well, not exactly like we planned.” Ojore ruffles my hair, drawing attention to my white streak. Though he keeps his voice light, he can’t suppress his disdain.