“Don’t fight me,” I shout as the Inquisitor whirls, his blade aimed at me again. I barely avoid it in time. “I know what you’re really up against.”
Teren laughs. “Brave little wolf,” he taunts. “The queen wants your head, and I shall give it to her.”
“Raffaele has taken your place at the palace,” I say, toying with Teren’s temper. “And he has also cast me out of the Daggers.” I nod at Magiano. “Not that it has stopped me from finding allies.”
“You’ve been busy,” Teren says with an icy smile. His pale eyes cut me to the bone, then shift to Magiano, who gives him a winning grin.
“Do you really believe Queen Giulietta deserves the throne, now that she has thrown you away?” I ask. “Now that she is willing to have other Elites in her army?”
Teren watches me carefully. I can feel his darkness rising again. “What do you want, mi Adelinetta?” he says.
Suddenly, I stop where I am. I weave an illusion over my entire face … transforming myself into Giulietta. Same rosy cheeks, same heart-shaped face and tiny, puckered lips, same deep, dark eyes so reminiscent of Enzo’s.
Teren stops so quickly that he loses his grip on his sword. The weapon clatters to the ground. Even though he must know that it’s just an illusion, he cannot seem to control his reaction. “Your Majesty,” he whispers, staring at my face in wonder.
“This is what you want, isn’t it?” I murmur, stepping closer to him.
Teren stares at me. This time, he falls completely for the illusion—he has forgotten about me. Instead, he takes a step forward and holds my face in his hands. He is surprisingly gentle.
“Giulietta,” he whispers. “Oh, my love. It’s you.” He kisses each of my cheeks. “How could you send me away?”
Then, his hands tighten on my cheeks, grabbing at the flesh. “You sent me away,” he says again, harder this time. A spark of fear jumps in me. Something in his voice reminds me of my father, that hard-hearted fury. “I did everything for you, and you sent me away.”
I decide to play along. “I am the Queen of Kenettra,” I say. “Pure of blood. If I want, I’ll send you away. If I wish, I’ll kill you. Shouldn’t I?”
“But you are taking counsel from a Dagger,” Teren spits out. His grip hardens against my face until it hurts. “You are letting a malfetto tell you it’s not worth it to cleanse this country.”
I force down my fear. “I have no interest in destroying malfettos. I never have. Why should I? It’s useless.”
Teren brings his face so close to mine that his lips brush mine. Nearby, I can hear Magiano’s sharp intake of breath. “I loved you,” he hisses. His voice shakes with rage, and I drink it in, terrified at the power behind it, yet hungry for more. My illusions strengthen. “And now, you love them?” His lips brush mine again, in something that can only be called a kiss. But there is nothing but hatred in it, something deep and hard and revolting that makes me want to shrink away. His fingers are like claws against my face. “Tell me, My Queen—how can I love a traitor to the gods?”
I unravel my illusion again, until Teren is holding my face in his hands, staring into my broken features. He stares at me a moment longer. Gradually, his energy calms as he recognizes me. He bares his teeth, releases me in disgust, and turns away. I’m shaking from how close I was to his rage. He wanted to crush me in his hands. Enzo had said that Teren was madly in love with the queen … but this … this is not love. This is obsession.
“You once said that I belong with you,” I call out. “Instead of with the Daggers.”
Teren pauses to turn his head slightly in my direction. In the waning light, all I can see of his features is an outline of his profile. It reminds me of how I saw him in the very beginning, his profile framed by light on the day of my burning, how he came over to me and threw a burning torch at my feet.
“The only way to get what you want in this world,” I say, “is to do it yourself. No one else will help you in this. The only way is if you are on the Kenettran throne.”
Teren laughs a little. “And why, my dear Adelina, would you want that?” He ignores Magiano and steps toward me. “I almost killed you. I killed your lover.”
An image of Enzo dying on the ground, of me crying over his body, flashes at me. I hate you, Teren, I think as I stare at him. I hate you, and someday I will kill you. But first, I will use you.
“Because,” I say, tilting my head up, “the Daggers also wanted me dead. Because they would have killed me.” I step closer. “How can I love a traitor?” I say, echoing Teren’s words. He raises one eyebrow in surprise. I have unsettled even him. “I would sooner die than see them take the throne.” I raise my hands then, and call the threads around us. The darkness in Teren’s heart feeds my power, giving me the fuel I need.
Flames erupt all around us. They explode from my body, rush along the ground, roar up the walls and the statues of the gods, up to the ceiling, eating up the dim blues and replacing them with searing gold and orange and white, leaving no space untouched except the spots where each of us stand. The entire temple is ablaze. The illusion of heat burns the edges of Teren’s clothes and threatens to peel away his skin.
“The Beldish queen has already sent for her navy,” I call out above the roar of fire. “There will be war. She has been working with the Daggers this entire time.” I nod at Teren. “You were right to suspect Raffaele.”