After conquering a southern kingdom with black-powder cannons, a bastard-born queen brings its last prince home in chains. But when her captive claims he chose her, their dangerous bargain leaves neither of them certain who truly holds the chain.
My victory procession ended with the last prince of Ailen in chains before my throne.
He was supposed to kneel.
The court had gathered to see whether I could make him.
In Karvit, royal blood could give someone a claim to the crown. Victory, and the generals behind it, decided who kept it. I had blasted through Ailen's gates with black-powder cannons and returned with an army at my back. But I was still a bastard-born woman on a throne surrounded by generals who believed they deserved it more.
If Sion defied me, they would call my victory a fluke.
If I killed him, the south would make him a martyr.
I drew the chain taut.
"Kneel."
Sion lowered himself onto one knee as if the choice were his.
His white ceremonial robes were torn, their gold embroidery stripped away. Black hair fell loose around his face, but nothing in those molten-gold eyes looked defeated. He should have hated me. Perhaps he did. Whatever he felt, he wore it like another secret.
He did not bow his head.
Instead, he caught the slack of the chain and drew my gloved fist toward his mouth. Steel whispered from its sheaths as my guards moved.
"On the day your cannons broke our gates," he said, his breath warm against my knuckles, "you forbade your soldiers from sacking the city."
"Is that gratitude I hear?"
"Judgment." The faintest smile touched his mouth. "That is why I chose not to run."
"You expect me to believe you chose the chain?"
"No, Your Majesty." His gaze held mine, not my crown, but me. "Only that I chose who would hold it."
The chain tightened between us.
"While I live, Ailen's temples will still carry my word. Spare my people, and I can call on the south to lay down its swords."
"And what do you want in return?"
"Keep me close enough to be useful."
His gaze flicked toward the wine beside my throne, then returned to me.
"One more thing, Your Majesty. That wine has been poisoned."
My grip tightened on the chain. "Why warn me?"
Sion smiled, softly enough for the court to mistake it for submission.
"Because I did not surrender to Karvit," he said, his voice meant for me alone. "I surrendered to you."