Page 15 of The Truth-Teller's Bargain
“I’m sure we will have all this nonsense cleared up shortly, all right?” Emi didn’t wait for a reply before turning to Dawes and offering him a small smile. “I’m glad you made it back safely,” she said with sincerity. “I’ll see you at dinner. I’m off to contain this story of our fearless leader kidnapping a helpless princess. And for the gods’ sake, get her something to eat. She looks starved.”
She left the tent with a huff, the flaps rustling behind her as she departed.
Dawes whistled quietly, hands behind his back. “Well, that went well.”
“Shove off, Dawes.”
“She made several points.”
Nakir’s tone darkened in a warning. “Seriously. If you could be literally anywhere else.”
The soldier took the hint and departed the same way Emi had gone, leaving Alethea alone in a war tent with Nakir Hasan.
“The transition of power has concluded smoothly. The Hasans have fled beyond our borders, and order has been restored across Lenorea.
Only Ephesus stands unsettled, mourning the loss of their Great Lady, a tragedy I did not foresee and regret profoundly.
Stability now holds, and I will see it strengthened.”
—KING AIKAT ONASIS’S ROYAL COMMUNICATION TO HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY, EMPEROR ELIAS MACIERRE
CHAPTER FOUR
Hunter’s Moon, Day 18.
Nakir Hasan.
The leader of the rebellion meant to overthrow the queen. Her mother’s enemy, which should make himherenemy.
He sighed as he stood over the desk, shuffling some of his papers around before turning to her. Alethea wasn’t bound in any way—she could take off, but the encampment was massive, not to mention crawling with his soldiers, and she knew she would never escape.
“Don’t worry, Princess,” he told her, turning and leaning back against the desk with crossed arms. “I do not plan to keep you long. I just need enough time to move my people far, far away before you return to your castle.”
Alethea gritted her teeth. She hated the way he said “princess,” like an insult. “Don’t call me that,” she finally said.
He stopped what he was doing, resting his arms on the edgeof the desk. “Don’t call you what? Princess?” he asked, his tone softening. “Isn’t that what you are?”
She couldn’t argue with his point, but it still grated on her, especially the wayhesaid it. “My name is Alethea.” She had little agency in this situation—in her entire life—but this felt like something she could control.
Something flashed behind Nakir’s eyes. Amusement? She bet he found this whole thing funny.
“Alethea it is. Would you care for something to eat?”
She shook her head.
“A drink, perhaps?” He gestured to the bedside table just behind her, upon which sat a decanter of amber liquid.
“No, thank you.” She wasn’t interested in being poisoned or drugged.
“Very well. Take a seat. I have a few questions.”
The only place for her to sit was on a small wooden stool—a stark contrast to the ironwood chair that had confined Goran Arranil in the castle dungeons. She lowered herself onto it slowly, wondering if this was how he had felt in those final moments before everything unraveled.
She did as he asked, taking the seat offered. No restraints, no threats. She silently wondered if this was some kind of trick, giving her the illusion of freedom so she would cooperate. There were many kinds of interrogation tactics... Perhaps this was one of them.
“I hear you were one of the last people to speak to Goran Arranil,” Nakir began. The way his voice thickened led Alethea to believe he’d been close to the late Great Lord, and the guilt for her role in his death settled even further.
She turned away and cleared her throat, desperately wishing she could dissolve into the floor rather than have this conversation. “I-I—” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s complicated.”
