I nod, my hands balling into fists. “I’d love to talk with him.”

“Serenity.” My father’s voice carries a warning.

I sigh. “Let’s just get this over with.” I had a bad case of jetlag, and I wanted to get some sleep before tomorrow’s peace talks.

I follow my father into his room, where his laptop rests on a side desk. I grab a nearby chair and pull it alongside my father’s.

Once we’re situated in front of the computer, my father calls up the representatives. They answer almost immediately.

“Ambassador Freeman and Serenity Freeman checking in,” my father says.

On the other side of the screen I can see the bunker’s conference room and the representatives sitting around the table. Now that I’m here inside the king’s house, in this place filled with glittery objects and natural light, the conference room looks especially bleak.

“Good to hear from you Carl,” the general says. “How’s it going?”

My father’s eyes slide to mine. “Fine so far. Have you been watching the footage?”

“Yes. Is Serenity there?”

My father turns the laptop so that my face takes up the screen. “General Kline.” I nod to him.

“Serenity, aside from that comment you made during your introductions, you seem to be doing well making the king’s acquaintance.”

There are so many things that I want to shout at the general, none of which I can voice, one because he’s still the leader of my country, and two, because I have to assume we’re being recorded.

So instead I say, “Surprised? I was too.” I lower my voice. “You’ve thrown me to the wolves, General.” That’s the closest thing I can come to the truth, that I’m here to persuade the king through more carnal means.

“Serenity, nations rely on your actions. Now is not the time for weakness.” General Kline’s practically chastising me.

My throat works. “He killed her.” My father reaches over and squeezes my shoulder, his subtle way of telling me to shut up, that I’ve said too much. But the king already knows what I’ve just spoken out loud—that I blame him for my mother’s death.

“And you’ve killed mothers, fathers, sons and daughters. War has taken something from everyone, Serenity. We can end that. You can end that.”

His words sober me up. He’s right, of course. The only difference between the king and I is that the king’s body count is much higher, and for most of his kills he never had to dirty his hands.

My gaze moves from the general to his son who sits further down the table. “I’m sorry, Will,” I say. His face is too grainy to make out, but I’m sure the expression he wears is not a pleasant one.