To Kill a Kingdom(6)

“Right.” I hook my hat over the ship wheel. “Best get it over with.”

“It won’t be so bad.” Kye hitches his collar. “You might find yourself enjoying the bowing. Might even abandon ship and leave us all stranded in the land of gold.” He reaches over and messes up my hair. “Wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” he says. “I quite like gold.”

“A true pirate.” I shove him halfheartedly. “But you can get that idea out of your head. We’ll go to the palace, attend the ball they’ll no doubt throw in my honor, and be gone before the week is out.”

“A ball?” Kye’s eyebrows rise. “What an honor, My Liege.” He bends over in a swooping bow, one hand to his stomach.

I shove him again. Harder. “Gods.” I wince. “Please don’t.”

Again he bows, though this time he can hardly keep from laughing. “As you desire, Your Highness.”

MY FAMILY IS IN the throne room. The chamber is decorated in floating balls of gold, flags printed with the Midasan crest, and a large table filled with jewels and gifts. Presents from the people to celebrate their prince’s return.

Having abandoned Kye to the dining hall, I watch my family from the doorway, not quite ready to announce my presence.

“It’s not that I don’t think he deserves it,” my sister says.

Amara is sixteen, with eyes like molokhia and hair as black as mine, and almost always sprinkled with gold and gemstones.

“It’s just that I hardly think he’ll want it.” Amara holds up a gold bracelet in the shape of a leaf and presents it to the king and queen. “Really,” she argues. “Can you see Elian wearing this? I’m doing him a favor.”

“Stealing is a favor now?” asks the queen. The braids on either side of her fringe swing as she turns to her husband. “Shall we send her to Kléftes to live with the rest of the thieves?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” says the king. “Send my little demon there and they’ll see it as an act of war when she steals the crest ring.”

“Nonsense.” I finally stride into the room. “She’d be smart enough to go for the crown first.”

“Elian!”

Amara runs to me and flings her arms around my neck. I return the hug and lift her off the floor, as excited to see her as she is to see me.

“You’re home!” she says, once I set her back on the ground.

I look at her with mock injury. “For five minutes and you’re already planning to rob me.”

Amara pokes me in the stomach. “Only a little.”

My father rises from his throne and his teeth gleam against his dark skin. “My son.”

He envelops me in a hug and claps me on each shoulder. My mother descends the steps to join us. She’s petite, barely reaching my father’s shoulder, and has delicate, graceful features. Her hair is cut bluntly at her chin, and her eyes are green and catlike, lined in wisps of black that lick her temples.

The king is her opposite in every way. Large and muscular, with a goatee tied with beads. His eyes are a brown that match his skin, and his jaw is sharp and square. With Midas hieratic decorating his face, he looks every bit the warrior.

My mother smiles. “We were beginning to worry you had forgotten us.”

“Only for a little while.” I kiss her cheek. “I remembered as soon as we docked. I saw the pyramid and thought, Oh, my family lives there. I remember their faces. I hope they bought a bracelet to celebrate my return.” I shoot Amara a grin and she pokes me again.

“Have you eaten?” my mother asks. “There’s quite the feast in the banquet hall. I think your friends are in there now.”

My father grunts. “No doubt eating everything but our utensils.”

“If you want them to eat the cutlery, you should have it carved from cheese.”

“Really, Elian.” My mother smacks my shoulder and then brings her hand up to brush my hair from my forehead. “You look so tired,” she says.

I take her hand and kiss it. “I’m fine. That’s just what sleeping on a ship does to a man.”

Really, I don’t think I looked tired until the moment I walked off the Saad and onto the gold-painted cement of Midas. Just one step and the life drained out of me.

“You should try sleeping in your own bed longer than a few days a year,” says my father.

“Radames,” my mother scolds. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just speaking to the boy! There’s nothing out there but ocean.”

“And sirens,” I remind him.

“Ha!” His laugh is a bellow. “And it’s your job to seek them out, is it? If you’re not careful, you’ll leave us like Adékaros.”

I frown. “What does that mean?”

“It means that your sister may have to take the throne.”

“We won’t have to worry, then.” I sling my arm around Amara. “She’d definitely make a better queen than me.”

Amara stifles a laugh.

“She’s sixteen,” my father chides. “A child should be allowed to live her life and not worry about an entire kingdom.”

“Oh.” I fold my arms. “She should, but not me.”