His lips curve upward in one corner. “You should know, Andrina. You’ve done it before.”

“Because I had to, not because I wanted to. There’s a difference. How do you know that anyway?”

“Zarek told me everything.” He shrugs. “Not that it matters now. We have our killer. But let me tell you a little about our wonderful King. He was too obsessed with collecting and spending money. That’s all he cared about. The only reason he married you is because you were uninterested with any financial gain, and he thought you’d produce an heir. And that’s when I told him the people had a right to know that he was ripping them off.”

“So, instead of letting the people make their own assumptions, you took matters into your own hands?”

Hadi walks to a table by the window and stares out. “He refused to do anything to correct the situation. Had I said a word to the people, he would’ve sent me off.”

“But you threatened to come back for vengeance.”

“Of course I did. Zarek was too young to hold the position of King. Valyad and the remainder of this earth need someone who’s been in politics for years. Someone who knows what they’re doing.”

I huff, thinking about how crazy this sounds. He’s standing in front of me, admitting he took Zarek’s life, and I can’t do anything about it.

“So, you believe that you’re that person,” I state.

“I am . I’ve known for a while—something telling me I would take over the crown, that it’d be mine.” His face lights up with joy, then promptly dims. “But the one thing standing in my way was him. And now it’s you.”

“If sitting on Zarek’s throne is what you seek, and I’m the last person in your way, then why didn’t you kill me, too?”

“Because I wouldn’t be able to claim the throne if I admitted to such a high act of treason, could I? For a while I didn’t know who the murderer would be. Perhaps a citizen. Maybe one of the guards. But you came along and changed everything. It was then, regretfully, that I realized you would willingly take the blame.”

All of this has been planned since I showed up? Why hadn’t Zarek told me prior to our marriage that there were problems in his court?

“If I go in front of Valyad, I’ll tell them the truth,” I say, jutting my chin out.

“My dear Andrina, if you decide not to comply with my wishes, then the bodies of your family will be left to rot somewhere in the desert.”

Blood drains from my face; it’s a warm, tickly sensation. Hurt my family? They don’t even know what’s going on. Mama’s probably in her booth, selling pottery. Mattie’s at home, sleeping the day away. I don’t want to imagine a few of Valyad’s militia murdering them while they dream, then dumping their inert shells so they can be picked apart by mangals and consumed by sharsans.

“Okay. I’ll do it,” I choke. Not from tears this time, but from anger. Thick as honey through my veins. Slugging through my body.  

“We will keep you in here overnight. You can’t exactly sleep in that bed after your husband was killed in it, can you?” he asks, relishing the disgusting joke. “Tomorrow, once you explain how much Zarek will be missed, and so on and so forth,”—he rolls his eyes—“then I will step forward and accuse you of murder. Just so we’re clear—try to make it believable.”

“But my family… They’ll be free? No harm done?”

“That depends on the manner in which you perform, my dear.”

I gulp louder than I should. I have one night to let the day’s events settle in my head. One night to hope and pray that I can perform well so that my family isn’t harmed. One night until I’m convicted of murder.