“Look at me, Fiona,” Han said. “Really look at me. Do you think that’s all I am?” Unchanneled magic stormed through him, buzzing under his skin.

She shook her head, staring into his face as if looking for clues. “I…I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You bluebloods are fixed on bloodlines,” Han said. “I am the perfect marriage of royal lineage and wizardry, of legitimacy and magic. I’m heir to a legacy even you Bayars can’t match, that was stolen from us centuries ago.”

“Royal lineage!” Fiona was going for disdainful, but not quite pulling it off. “Who do you think you—”

“What you need to know is that I won’t stop until I get what I want. You can be with me or against me. But choose carefully.”

He gave Fiona’s amulet a toss, and she leaped forward to catch it in her two hands.

“Let me know what you decide.” Han turned on his heel and walked out.

C H A P T E R  T E N

INTO THE
SNAKE PIT

Han strode down the corridor, back the way he’d come, all his senses on alert in case Fiona came after him, either to attack him or to accept his proposal.

As he walked, he berated himself, sorry he’d lost his temper and spoken so plainly. Once something was said, it couldn’t be unsaid. How could he forget that?

He hadn’t spilled it all, but with what he’d given her, Fiona might figure it out. And if she did, she might tell her father. Or she might not, since she was so far into her own schemes.

If he heard back from her, it might keep Raisa safe for a little while, even if Fiona meant to renegotiate later on—after he hushed the queen. But if she didn’t contact him—

He had ten minutes to find the meeting room. He hadn’t meant to arrive at the last minute, but now there was no avoiding it.

He clattered down the stairs two at a time, and turned down the first-floor hallway. He could no longer hear voices funneling down the corridor.

The hallway emptied into a large foyer, two stories tall. Massive walnut doors stood opposite the front door. They were shut tight.

A nervous-looking servant in sword-and-flame High Wizard livery hurried forward to intercept Han. “I’m sorry, my lord, but the council is now in session and cannot be interrupted.” He motioned to a salon off the main foyer. “If you would care to wait in there, I will bring you refreshment. Some wine, perhaps?”

“The council is already in session?” Han glanced up at the massive clock on the mantel in the salon. “Already? Isn’t it early?”

The servant nodded. “Everyone had arrived, so Lord Bayar called the meeting to order.”