He pulled his hand away. “Mother, I tried. I tried to be the leader Nazirah needed me to be, but it … it went wrong. I failed, in so many ways. I didn’t come here to repeat my mistakes.”

“My sweet son,” she said, holding him by the shoulders and appraising him with a tenderness that made him ache. “You are not a boy any longer. A true leader is not a man who never makes mistakes. He’s a man who learns from them.”

He shook his head. “You’re the one who won the support of the regions. You’re the one in command of the army. You’re the one they’ll rally behind.”

“You are their king,” she said fiercely, gripping his shoulders. “If there is anyone who can unite our country, Graced and Graceless alike, it is you.”

“But I’m—” He wanted to say he couldn’t do it. That he’d tried and failed, twice before. That Herat did not need him. That it never had. “I—Shouldn’t you discuss this with the others?”

“They will agree with me,” she said dismissively. “I can win you this battle, but I have not the head for politics and ruling. That was your father’s domain.”

Actually, his father hadn’t much cared for it, either. He was, perhaps, too honest. Too good-hearted. Too forgiving and not ruthless enough. He liked things he could pull apart and put back together with his hands. Politics was slippery, ever shifting.

It was Lethia who excelled at statecraft. How else could she have not only staged a coup against Hassan’s family but also held the city of Nazirah together when all the forces of chaos were descending upon it? She had been ruthless enough to strike a deal with the Hierophant. Cunning enough to use him and the Witnesses to secure her power. And deceptive enough to lie to Hassan to get him and his fledgling army out of the way.

He remembered what he’d told Zareen, the night he’d left the Scarab’s Wing following Arash’s brutal attack on the city.

I want to bring them justice. But I can’t do it like this.

Maybe that was why he had gone to Lethia. Why he’d made a deal with the Hierophant. He wanted a bloodless solution. He wanted, above all, peace in the country he loved so much. But such a peace was not possible, could not be possible, without ripping out the poison that the Hierophant and Lethia had spread.

He’d failed to do what was required to restore order to Herat.

His mother believed that he could do it now. Hassan didn’t know if that was true, but he knew if he wanted to save his country, if he wanted to protect his people, he had to become that person.