Page 52 of The Dead Queen

Father rolls his eyes. “You’ve always been a petulant child.”

“I’m not a child anymore. And I won’t follow you blindly.”

“Since when do you follow me at all?” Father’s scowl deepens. “Your entire life, you’ve been angry and needlessly rebellious. You make life harder than it needs to be, then blame others for your misfortunes.”

“Like Grandmother’s murder?” It’s a challenge, and the look on his face tells me he knows it. He doesn’t respond.

It feels slightly absurd to stand in this moldering dungeon arguing about murder and deceit while wearing my frilly nightgown and velvety-pink robe. I should be clad in armor if I’m the only person brave enough to defy this beast.

“It’s time you stop living in the past and start facing your responsibilities.” He clenches his fist on the desk. “This kingdom does not protect itself. It needs a strong ruler to save it from the Dead Queen. And here you are, sneaking around with her spies.”

“That’s not what happened.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, like he has a headache. “Do you know what the corpse queen wants? She intends to overthrow the Fox Throne. To bring horror and chaos to Llwyn. Doesn’t that matter to you at all?”

I set my jaw, refusing to take the bait.

He looks at the guards near the door. “Get out.”

I feel the steadying presence of Hunter behind me, unmoving. It’s a brave thing to stay behind in the face of an angry king. An immense wave of gratitude washes over me.

The guards leave and close the heavy door behind them. They look like copper insects skittering away from a hungry lizard.

Father breaks the following silence. “Let me ask you a question.” He tinkers with the inkwell on his desk, thoughtfully. “What use would healing powers be if there were no fools on the verge of death? If there were no wounded soldiers on battlefields?”

The questions are rhetorical. He lowers his eyes at me. “This war is how we keep our family on the throne.”

“You mean, this is how you stay on the throne?”

“For. My. Heir.” He glares at me. “Or, it would have been, if you hadn’t been such an infuriating, embarrassing failure.”

There is an implied threat in his words. For the first time, I wonder if maybe he’d intended for me to die yesterday. If he wanted to bait the Wolf and make a scene, to kill me and blame it on the prisoner. My hand instinctively reaches up to my throat to feel the tender scar there.

“You think I only exist to gratify you,” I say, incredulous. “To make you look good. To keep your seat on the throne.”

Father shrugs. “It’s all a matter of your point of view.”

“Murdering people and stealing land for personal gain isn’t what a good ruler does.”

“Good?” He raises an eyebrow. “Define ‘good’. Our people are fed. They have homes and clothes on their backs.”

“All won through theft and lies.”

Hunter reaches forward to put a hand on my elbow. “Sienna, maybe⁠—”

Father steps closer to me. “Do you honestly think the comfortable housewife cares where her food comes from, as long as her brats are fed? Do you think the silversmith cares what his weapons are used for, as long as the work keeps coming?”

I stare at him in horror.

Father leans in close to me. “No, they don’t.” He scowls. “A good ruler takes care of his own people. That’s what I do. I will damn Annwyn if it means Llwyn thrives. A good father does what he must to protect his family.”

The word “family” rings in my ears. It is hollow and meaningless coming from his lips. How has he protected me? I’m his only true family and I’ve never felt safe a day in my life. Especially not from him.

All this time, we were the monsters—The Fox Throne and Llwyn.

We were the ones stealing land, killing families, causing pain and misery. All to keep my monstrous family in a golden palace.

And I helped him.