Lately, the Wildling warriors have invited us to their tournaments, to duel. They were quicker to accept Grim’s presence than the rest of the realms. Now he’s practically one of them, spending most of his time here. I say nothing. I just keep staring ahead at the horizon.
Grim sighs and sits back on his hands. “Your brooding is annoying, as always. Just spit it out.”
I haven’t told my friends. Not even Enya. I trust them more than anyone. But I have to admit that they could never understand. Not this.
But Grim ...
“My brother wants to abdicate,” I say. “He wants me to be king.”
Grim’s expression barely changes. He turns toward the sea, and nods. “So, the crown of daggers has been handed to you.” He laughs. “Ruling isn’t the privilege everyone thinks it is, is it?”
“No. It isn’t.”
We sit in silence.
“So, what are you going to do?” he asks eventually, turning back to me.
“What can I do? His mind is decided.”
He purses his lips, considering. “You could get banished to your enemy’s lands, and imprisoned. That should keep you from taking onresponsibility, at least for a few decades. I’d be happy to hand you over to my father myself.”
If only. I sigh. “I’m starting to understand why you preferred that prison.”
“A throne or a cell ... they aren’t so different.”
“No,” I say. “They’re not.” And right now, I would rather the cell. I stare down at the churning sea. I consider my fate. Since that conversation with Egan, I’ve thought of this turn of events as a prison sentence ...
But what if it doesn’t need to be?
I think about what I might do as king. What I might do differently from my father and Egan. Could I help this world? Could I keep us from war?
Grim makes a sound of disbelief. “Hope? From you? Do let us into that miserable head of yours.”
I squint at the sea below, at the rocks piercing its surface. “I’m just thinking. Perhaps if I become king, things could change.”
“How so?”
Slowly, I turn to him. It’s not just hope. For once in decades, I feel something almost like excitement for the future. Perhaps this could be the best thing for our people. For both our realms.
“If I become king, you could kill your father. You could become ruler.” We’ve talked about it before. Every time, Grim says he would rather die than become ruler of Nightshade.
This time, he raises a brow. “And?”
“We could finally, for once in our histories, have peace.”
“Peace,” he repeats, frowning, as if the word is new to him. I remember what he said so long ago, in the cells.Why do you hate me? Is it because of something I did? Or because someone told you to?
My voice quickens. “You said so yourself. Your warriors were forced to fight. They didn’t want to overtake Lightlark. Neither do you.This would be the end of pointless war. No one else would have to die. We could settle any difference with a simple conversation. Your father would pay for what he did to my parents ...” I chew down the painful memory. “And history would be able to move on. We could all, finally, move on. To a better future. One led by both of us. Two people who don’t revel in death. Two people who could be ... whoare... friends.”
“Friends,” Grim repeats.
I nod.
Friends.
I offer him my hand to shake. It’s full of everything I’ve promised. Peace. Friendship. And end to pointless death.
He takes it.
