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“Just what has gotten into the boy? The last battle didn’t work out so well for this kingdom.”

A passing soldier snorted. “That’s why he’s bringing this one to Wildewyn’s doorstep.”

If Raheem was a swearing man, he would have started right then and there. He almost let loose an ancient god’s name who would likely have struck him down where he stood. There was no reason to attack Wildewyn on their own land. The last time Bymere had tried… a bloodbath unlike any other had occurred.

Bymere was suited for fighting in the desert. They knew how to find water when there was none. They knew how to hit an enemy from hundreds of yards away with a single arrow. But they didn’t know how to fight in close quarters with trees between them and their enemies.

They were marching into a slaughter.

He raced through the halls, clapping shoulders as he went and advising men to return to their quarters. There was no reason for this. Some misunderstanding must have caused this, but he couldn’t imagine it was the sultan himself who had ordered this.

Solomon knew what this would do to the kingdom. He’d be breaking more than just a promise. He would be taking over the kingdom once and for all.

He’d kill the man himself if he thought to step into Nadir’s shoes permanently.

Sliding across the hall where the sultan’s quarters were, Raheem skidded to a halt when he saw who stood in the center of the sultan’s bedroom.

“Saafiya,” he growled. “I thought they’d locked you up somewhere nice and dark.”

“No, my dear.” She turned and smiled. The crimson gown she wore poured over her body, shifting with her movements and the embroidered gold thread caught in the light. “I thought you were dead.”

“Apparently, I’m a hard man to kill.”

She shrugged a delicate shoulder. “No one is invincible, General. I hear congratulations are in order. You’ve managed to win yourself a place back in the great chess game.”

“This isn’t a game. This is people’s lives.”

A shadow crossed over her expression and he realized she knew that. She knew this was her people’s lives that she played with, and it didn’t matter to her.

He lunged forward, only to be caught at the shoulder by strong hands.

“Peace, General.” Solomon's voice was pitched low. “There is much for us to talk about.”

“I’d kill you myself if I thought I could get away with it,” he snarled.

Saafiya chuckled and clapped her hands. “Ah, Raheem. I wondered how long it would take you to hate him as we all do. Foolish man, you had so much hopes for the boy king who would always fall back into my hands.”

Solomon’s spine stiffened. Raheem didn’t miss that, but the man still remained silent with his back turned to the first wife.

He’d take care of it then. This viper didn’t need to be out of her cage for too long. It only meant the rest of them were in danger.

Raheem hooked his chin toward the door. “Back to your cage, woman. I’ll rattle the bars if I need you again.”

She sauntered by him, waggling her fingers. “Sultan, my love. If you have need of me again, you know where to find me.”

Gods, he hoped Solomon hadn’t slept with her. That woman must have been dipped in gold the way she captured the attention of so many men. He didn’t understand the allure. Raheem would sooner cut off an arm than touch that one. Saafiya was the kind of woman to poison herself if it meant getting what she wanted in the end.

When the door closed behind her, Solomon let out a breath. “I suddenly understand why my brother had such a difficult time ruling this place.”

“She’s not even the worst of them.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

The false sultan stepped away and headed toward the desk. He lifted a bottle of fine whiskey out of it, then saluted Raheem. “I apologize, to both you and to the Sultan of Bymere. I thought this would be a much easier mission than it was.”

“Was?” Raheem repeated.

“The advisors have made it very clear to me that if I do not support their movements to attack Wildewyn, then they will have me removed from the throne.”

Raheem shook his head when offered a glass of whiskey. “They cannot do that. You are the one with royal blood.”

“Apparently they can.” Solomon drained the first glass and placed it on the table. He braced his arms on the worn wood. “They have some false proof that Nadir is not the sultan’s son.”

“Ridiculous,” Raheem barked with laughter. “It’s not possible. He looks more like his father than Hakim did, and that boy was a full-blooded royal.”

“Papers can be forged. People can be paid to agree with their statements and then where would we be? Everything we’ve done, all the things we’ve worked for, will be wiped off this world immediately. I cannot let that happen.”

All the anger simmering in Raheem’s chest disappeared. His knees grew weak, and he sank into a chair beside the desk quietly. “Then what now?”

Solomon mirrored his actions and took off the wrap on his face. Every loop revealed more and more of the man’s exhaustion. “War.”

Gods, it sounded terrible. They were taking the lives of so many men and women in their hands and sending them to their death. For what? The hopes that Nadir would return some kind of changed man? That he would be able to come home and…

Raheem moved forward and placed his head in his hands. “We’re all doomed, aren’t we?”

“There’s still a chance the true sultan can change this.”

“How?” The Qatal warrior would have to explain, because Raheem saw nothing more than danger in this place. Death and blood already scented the air. The Earthen folk would destroy the army and then they would move forward with their march.

Bymere would disappear under the weight of a world which no longer saw fit for the people who floundered under the rule of misguided fools.

Solomon cleared his throat. “I haven't been

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