No one else would speak up about the lack of nobility. Not against Rodric. The soldiers who crossed him had an odd way of disappearing. Sometimes their bodies were found in the desert by the caravans coming into the city. Sometimes they were discovered in their beds covered with scorpion bites. Sometimes they were never found at all.

Rodric saw anyone who questioned him as questioning the will of the desert itself since he was a product of the desert—no, a master of it. He saw ruling with an iron fist as the only way to rule. I hadn’t really cared before, but now I might find myself under that fist.

I’d spent years training, years trying to live up to my father’s legacy, to gain the strength to take the throne and protect my people like my mother had always wanted me to do. And now I would be stopped at the bitter end by Rodric?

He sauntered forward and bowed before my father. When he righted himself, his eyes were on me. “I’ve trained you well,” he said. “Now it’s time to find out how well.”

I balled my hands into fists. I wanted to wipe the smile from his face, to wipe away every memory of him, because he’d done this. While I’d been so busy training, he’d been poisoning my own father against me. And I’d played right into his script by getting injured today.

“I’ll arrange for another trainer to come in,” my father said, as if that were the reason I was fuming.

I didn’t need another trainer. I needed a miracle.

Rodric smirked. “In a month, this will be our wedding feast,” he said, throwing his arms wide.

It irked me that he was so confident. I should have known he was simply trying to get into my head, to wreck my confidence, but he didn’t need to. His presence was enough to send every thought of victory fleeing from my body.

“I’m tired after my fight,” I said, pushing away from the table. “I’m going to my room.” I needed to get away from all the prying eyes. I needed time to think, to figure out how to get my father back on my side.

Rodric bowed as I exited the hall, but I felt his eyes following me the entire way. By the time I left the main hall, I was shaking.

Even though sunset was an hour or two away, Latia already had a thick nightgown pulled out when I arrived in my room. “I can’t believe you’re going to face Rodric,” she exclaimed. “He’ll make an excellent leader. He’s as strong as your father, I imagine. No one will dare cross him. Not since the desert sent him to us.” She hugged the nightgown to her chest. “That’s if he wins, of course,” Latia added when she saw my face.

“Get out,” I seethed, sending her fleeing from the room with the nightgown still clutched to her chest.

I paced the length of the room. I threw open my wardrobe and tore all the gowns out one by one. The shimmering fabrics caressed my skin as I flung them away. They felt like ghosts against my skin, the same kind of ghost I would become if I married Rodric. He would take the throne, and I’d be left with nothing. I wouldn’t even be able to go after the Desert Boys. No, he’d want that glory for himself.