Maram lowered her weapon, her eyes hard. “Your king is dead.” Her voice rang out, clear as a bell in the ensuing silence. “Lay down your arms and I may show you mercy.”

The droids were destroyed, though their mistress—Nadine—had survived with a shot to her shoulder. The Vath had lost two directors and a general, as well as most of Mathis’s personal guard. Rabi’a had survived with a shot to the arm and leg, and the rest of the makhzen, who had no combat training, had remained behind the barricades as best they could. Arinaas had lost a handful of women too, and her gaze was somber as she tallied them and made preparations to have their bodies moved.

Maram and Aghraas stood over a gurney that bore Mathis. It floated at hip level, its white medi-light illuminating his features. He seemed as if he were sleeping—gentler than I’d ever had the chance to see him. Maram’s face was blank as she looked down at her father.

“I suppose it is only right,” she said, voice distant.

“Your Grace?” I prompted.

“He killed his father to secure his throne,” she said. “And his daughter has killed him for the same reason.”

I thought for a moment she would reach out and touch him. Instead, her hand curled into a fist, and she looked up at the attendants who had born him to her.

“Take him to the crypt below. We’ll burn him at sunrise. He deserves that last Vathek rite, at least.”

I watched her as his body was borne away. I couldn’t imagine what she was experiencing. Her father, dead. Herself now queen. The world waiting for her.

“Your Grace,” I said again, and removed her crown from my head and waited. The room stilled. The makhzen who’d been pulled into our uprising without knowing about me had watched me curiously, but not approached. Now they watched us very closely.

Maram sank to her knees, the picture of Kushaila regality, the gold-stitched edges of her robe spread out behind her, her jewel-encrusted braid hanging over her right shoulder. It felt as if every person in the room held their breath as I settled the crown on her head. And then our positions were reversed, and Maram stood over me as I sank to my knees. Aghraas and Idris followed, and then every occupant in the room was on their knees.

“All hail the queen!” Idris cried.

“Hail!” Aghraas said.

“Hail the queen!” we replied.

30