Cion looked away. “I never said our route was safe. But the people trying to get out of here are willing to face just about anything to get their freedom.”

His words struck me to my core. I’d never thought about the people who were forced to risk everything to escape Achra. Maybe it was because until Rodric had been announced as my last opponent, I’d never thought of leaving.

I’d been so focused on training to not only win the throne but to be strong enough to defeat the Desert Boys—to prove to the people they were to blame for everything and not me—that I hadn’t paid enough attention to the people suffering right before me.

I’d known they didn’t have water, but I hadn’t realized the wells were so crowded that sometimes people waited so long that the number of buckets they were allowed dropped while they were in line. Or that the guards were not only killing people who’d demanded the original amount of water they’d been promised, they were also collecting women for Rodric.

I’d thought eradicating the Desert Boys would be upholding my promise to my mother. But there was so much more I should have been doing. So much more I hadn’t seen while locked away training in the palace.

I didn’t know how long this all had been going on, but I had my suspicions that things had only gotten worse under Rodric, that he was bending the entire city to his will just like he was doing to my father.

And I had to find a way to put a stop to it.

“Unless you know that feeling—of being willing to face anything to win your freedom,” Cion continued, “you’ll never beat Rodric, because you’ll never have the intensity that will push you to keep going, knowing it’s your only chance.”

“I’ll do anything to beat Rodric,” I said. Even more so now. Because even if my father didn’t know how bad things had gotten around the wells, Rodric did. And he was the one standing between me and my mother’s crown—my mother’s legacy. And nothing would stop me from that, from finally leading these people how she would’ve wanted me to.

“We’ll see.”

We fell into silence again. Wind picked up around us, filling the void.

Something flapped against my wrist as it brushed past my belt. It was the map I’d torn from Tamlin’s book. Part of me shouted to keep it hidden, but the other part whispered that this could be the first peace offering between Cion and me, the first sign that we could eventually learn to trust each other.

I cleared my throat and held the crumbled paper out to Cion. “Maybe this would help your caravans.”

Cion took the paper, smoothing it out so he could study it.

“It’s a map of the desert drawn by Tamlin himself,” I supplied. I pointed toward the wandering line. “That’s the route he used.”

He eyed me. “Is this how you were planning on finding us?”