This had probably been his plan all along. Train me well enough to fight everyone else—everyone but him—while he maneuvered his way into my father’s good graces. My hands instinctively went to the scars concealed beneath the cuff on my neck.

How could I possibly win my father back after this? My only option was to be the champion in the arena. But that seemed impossible.

I stared down at the pile of wilted gowns. I kicked one away and strode out to the balcony.

I leaned over the railing, hoping to catch the first breeze of night and ease the heat coursing through me, but there was no relief from the sun’s gaze. Not even guards patrolled the walls, keeping instead to the shade by the gate.

Below me, voices floated up. At first, I paid them no mind, too absorbed in my own problems to care about anyone else’s. But then my name was mentioned.

“Kateri fights better than most of the soldiers, though she won’t beat me,” Rodric said. “I only hope she doesn’t cause a scene.”

“She will come around to marrying you,” another voice replied. Probably one of his soldiers. “She will abide by the rules of the arena.”

“I still plan on keeping extra guards on her until our fight.” Rodric’s comment froze me in place. “I want everyone to see her cower before me, to recognize that the desert is choosing me. But she already knows she can’t beat me, which is why I question if she’ll even try to flee.”

Their voices grew louder, their footsteps shuffling across the balcony directly below mine.

“If she did,” the second voice said, “there’s nowhere she could run. Even if she were lucky enough not to get hit by a sandstorm, only the caravans know the safe way through the desert, and all the drivers are loyal to you. She couldn’t carry enough water on her own to make the journey.”

“She wouldn’t survive a day in that desert, let alone a sandstorm.” Rodric laughed. “She’ll bend under my rule like everyone else. And after I’m king, if she gets in the way of my plans, she’ll meet the same fate as the queen.”

My stomach plummeted downward. I gripped onto the balcony railing to prevent myself from plummeting too.

“Or I should gift her to Cion,” Rodric continued. “The only thing she’d hate more than me killing her would be to die at a Desert Boy’s hand.”

I couldn’t hear what else they said. The pounding of my heart drowned out the world. I slid down against the railing and clung to it, afraid the balcony might drop from beneath me as the rest of the world had done.

Several fire-legged flies buzzed around my head. I didn’t even bother shooing them away.

I pulled my knees close to my chest and ran my fingers through my hair. I forced myself to breathe, to think.

I needed a plan. That’s always how I prepared for a fight. It started with studying my opponent and finding his weaknesses. But Rodric was an excellent swordsman. He acted in anger more often than not, but that wasn’t a true weakness since he had brute strength to back up his actions. Not to mention the guards. None of them would train me. They’d see it as a betrayal of Rodric.