The king peels his eyes away from me to greet my father. “Ambassador Freeman,” he says, “it is my pleasure to host you here for the peace talks.” It’s frightening to see that the king shares my father’s talent for camouflaging himself to fit his audience. The king doesn’t need peace talks to get what he wants, but he plays along, lying effortlessly through his teeth.

I drop my hold on my father’s arm, and he takes the king’s outstretched hand as cameras go off. “King Lazuli, it’s an honor to finally meet you,” my father says. “I hope that our two great hemispheres can come together to foster future peace.” My father lies just as effortlessly as he stares the monster in the eyes and shakes his hand.

Now it’s my turn.

The king turns his attention away from my father, and my stomach contracts painfully. This is the man who killed my mom. The man who leveled my city and all my friends living in it. He’s the man who I’ve seen shot on national television, yet still he lives.

Unlike his response to my father, I can see the king’s genuine interest in me. His eyes look lit from behind. “Ambassador Freeman, I presume that this is your daughter, Serenity Freeman?” the king asks.

Next to me my father’s body goes rigid, and I know he senses the king’s interest in me. “She is,” my father says.

The king gives me a slow, sly grin and grabs my hand. I fight the overwhelming impulse to yank it free, cock my fist, and smash it into his face. Instead I bare my teeth as the cameras go off. I know it looks more like a snarl than a smile, but it’s the best I can do at the moment.

King Lazuli brings my hand up to his lips, and I close my eyes to block out the sight of his mouth against my skin. I only open them once he pulls my hand away from his lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Serenity.”

He means it. Heaven help me, I’ve caught the attention of the king.

“King Lazuli,” I choke out. I can feel tears burning my eyes, blurring my vision. I can’t cry, not on television.

“Montes,” he corrects me quietly. His eyes flick to my father’s. “I believe the negotiations in the upcoming days will go quite well. I have a feeling for these things.” The king is still holding my hand, and I feel him squeeze it.

None of this gets past my father, who nods once, his mouth a grim line.

The king’s eyes move to mine and drink me in before returning to my father. “Mind if I whisk your daughter away for a dance?” the king asks.