“That’s right,” he said with the satisfaction of a keen competitor, one used to coming in first in all his endeavors. “Three lives hang in the balance: mine, yours, and his. Kem is smart and capable. He will be a good warden—as long as you don’t kill him.”

Raw, ragged fury spasmed through her, making her reckless. She would never give him the satisfaction of cowing her. “If you force someone weaker than you into acting as the wolf in your place, then you are still the wolf even if yours are not the teeth dripping with blood.”

“A tendentiously poetic image worthy of a palace courtier,” he said in a tone that made it clear he despised palace courtiers and their weary metaphors. Her rash defiance hadn’t even dented his imperial composure.

“If you kill Kem, then I have no need to cooperate. That places you and me at an impasse.”

“Not at all. It is your concern for him that makes you a perfect weapon for me. You will serve me, or you will die. Yet the prospect of your own death isn’t enough to fix your loyalty, is it? If you die, the boy dies. If I die, the boy dies. His life, Deputy Courier. You understand.”

She did understand, too well. Too much.

“Now. Sit.”

She sat, struggling to rein in her galloping, disordered thoughts. The world had shifted under her feet.

“As I said before, show me the viper.”

Footsteps thumped on the steps, someone hurrying up. A hand rapped on the closed door.

“Your Highness?” It was Simo.

“What is it?” the prince called impatiently, gaze gripped by Elen’s fingers touching her own sleeve. He shook his head at her. Only when she withdrew her hand from her sleeve did he look to the door. “Come in.”

The door opened, and the captain entered the chamber. Simo’s glance took in the prince at the window and Elen seated on the chair like a prisoner being interrogated. A flash of curiosity widened his eyes but was quickly squelched as he addressed the prince.

“Your Highness, my most abject apology for disturbing you—”

“Enough! You’re a warden captain, not a palace courtier. What is it?”

“The Worthy Luviara insists she needs to speak to you immediately on a matter of great urgency.”

“Has she found something?” the prince asked sharply.

“I don’t know, Your Highness. You ordered me not to let anyone come up, which is why I brought the message myself. She spoke more strongly than is typical for her, and hinted at dire tidings, which is why I went so far as to interrupt you.”

The prince stuck the whip back into its loop on his belt. “Stay here,” he said to Elen, and went out with the captain, leaving the door open behind him. No need of a lock and key. He knew what he was doing. He knew how to win.