KINGSLAYER

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Rolling her eyes, Zensa said, "Leave her alone."

I kept my expression neutral, but something inside me bloomed at her defense. It was not that I needed it. It was merely how unlikely it was. And yet she did it anyway.

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I rested a hand on my hip, listening to Alexander read choppily. "Wrong. Begin the sentence over."

"I am going to assassinate you for real this time if you keep taking that tone with me."

"You and whose army?"

"I need no army. Only my brilliant mind."

His response evoked a question. "So tell me, Deathrender: what big names have you assassinated? Besides the pitiful attempt on me, of course."

His nose wrinkled as he made a sneering face. "I told you I don't like that stupid title."

"Why?"

"It's awfully melodramatic for someone whose business is meant to be silent and secretive."

I nearly laughed. "You are melodramatic. Moreover, titles are only for the elite and feared. You should feel honored to be a part of our company. I myself was known as the Iron Princess because of my skill with blades."

"Don't kid yourself; you got that name cutting down men for Aegeus Imperator's entertainment. Besides, the idea of my title does not match me. Deathrender evokes images of grizzled, ugly warriors with more muscle than they know what to do with."

"Yes," I deadpanned. "So you instead wish for a name to fit someone with the same build as a beanpole?"

"Your eyesight must be poor. Look again."

"My previous question remains unanswered."

He sighed, switching tracks from the title discussion, of which he was evidently very passionate. "Hounds, who haven't I killed? Politicians, ambassadors, fellow mercenaries. Although I believe the most high-profile job I had was a hit on an emissary to the Czar." Adrik's father—Ermalai Morokov. "The emissary had gotten involved in some shifty dealings, made one too many enemies in dark places. I killed him within two hours, then robbed his house." He shook his head, lost in the memory. "You should have seen his house. It was nearly as disgustingly lavish as yours. There were some silver cuff links that made me great money, though."

"So no one as powerful as me. Hm." I leaned back ever so slightly. "I would say you are indebted to me for helping boost your reputation in such a way. Though Daggen thinks differently, my court must believe you finished the job on the boat ride to Navrika. Surely my soldiers talked when none of us returned."

He shrugged, playing along. "Depends what you want for said debt."

"I can think of a few things."

As soon as I said it, his sly smile turned suggestive. "Stop those thoughts where they are, Princess. Sexual favors are off the table."

"I was thinking more along the lines of disclosing more information to me about how you broke into the palace without being invited." Pretending as though I had gone temporarily deaf, I moved swiftly from the subject he brought up. "Which is something I actually see as desirable."

The corner of his mouth twitched up at my word choice. "I already told you I won't say."

"On that note, come back inside. We are pushing our advancement tonight." He followed me into the tent, bringing the firestick with him. Rummaging in the traveling bag, I pulled out Lorenzo's text on Draven and held it in the light. "You will be reading to me from this."

His dark-pupiled eyes lit with recognition. "Don't let any of the others see that; you might develop an even worse reputation."

I tossed it to him. "Begin at the start."

Settling in the spot across from me, of which he took up more space, he cracked the spine and began to read painfully slow. "By now, it is increasingly obvious the Gods have mysteriously left the earth. Whether due to the sins of humanity, Their waning power in the face of human technology, or Their untimely deaths, we are without the guidance of physical deities. However, this does not mean all signs of Godly existence have been erased from the clutches of humankind. For better or worse, slivers of Godly power have been left behind."

Ignoring the large words he stumbled over countless times, he went on, "Such artifacts are undeniably forbidden from human use; often, these pieces were left for a reason. Godly power in the hands of mere mortals goes against the natural structure of the world. Even contact with such artifacts can burn through the weak like sheets of paper. If you, reader, suspect an artifact in question is imbued with Godly influence, do not engage with it. It will lay waste to you. Consider this your warning."

With the last sentence, Alexander made pointed eye contact with me. But I was very far past the point of no return.

Flipping through pages, Alexander searched for the chapter on Draven's locket. I feared it was not in the book, but he stopped just before the end. Just one short paragraph. "A source of power sought by the greedy and villainous for centuries, Draven's locket remains the most infamous lost artifact in history—in addition, the most dangerous. There is good cause for its missing status—all legends of past encounters have led to the destruction of said person. Men cannot handle even part of the Gods' might."

"Good thing I am not a man."

Alexander stopped reading once more, saying, "Surely you can see how terrible of an idea this is. There is a rare chance you'll even be able to transport it to the City of Luck, and even less of one that you'll survive unleashing it. Because I know you, and I know you're tempted."

Something bitter settled in at his automatic assumption that I would use the power for selfish gain. Though perhaps it was justified, given the person who raised me.

"I had my time to make mistakes. Now I must protect my people with everything I have from the madman who foams at the mouth for my crown." I had to go after it; there was no choice to be made.

There was finality in my words. Just like that, the conversation was over.