I leaned against the balcony railing. Across from me, a cactus flyer hopped across the palace wall. The bird had broken off the spine of a cactus and was using it to poke into holes looking for grieving spiders, tarantula termites, or any other creature that had taken refuge from the day’s heat in the holes. Again and again it hopped forward, stabbing its spike—one more reminder of what Rodric would do to me if I stayed.

I looked away toward the desert sands stretching far past the city. If I waited long enough, would my mother send a gust of sand scattering across the hills, beckoning me, letting me know it was okay to go?

The desert was still and stifling.

I shook my head. She’d want me to stay and protect the people as long as I could. To find a way to restore the kingdom using the strength she’d given me.

Isn’t that what she’d done? She tried to do what little good she could for the people instead of running away when my father picked her as his bride.

I raised my head from the railing and watched the wind blow small trickles across the tops of the dunes in all directions, as though they too were confused about where they belonged.

I knew then I would fight. I would train as hard as I could on my own. I would honor the promise to my mother.

But as I stared out at the sands, a realization struck. I couldn’t beat Rodric, but I knew someone who could. Someone who could train me. Someone who was rumored to be the best swordsman in the desert.

I shook my head. The heat must have gone to my mind. I couldn’t ask a Desert Boy to help me.

I wouldn’t.

They’d murdered my mother and the baby boy my mother had barely had time to deliver. Asking them for help would be too close to forgiveness, and they would never get that from me.

I turned my back on the desert, leaning against the railing. What if I went there to kill Cion? My father and Rodric would have to see I was a force to be reckoned with. My father would realize I was capable of ruling. I’d become the source of my own legends, the one who took down a legend. My father would see me as the desert’s choice. He’d have to.

The only flaw in my plan was that I couldn’t beat Cion any more than I could Rodric. The scene at the well had proved that. I sighed.

It all came down to what I hated more, the Desert Boys or the idea of marrying Rodric. They both seemed bent on destroying the people and letting them die of thirst. At least with the Desert Boys, I wouldn’t have to marry one of them, and there was still a chance I could help the people. And after I beat Rodric, I could figure out what to do with the Desert Boys.