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Thirty-one thousand four hundred queens and he didn’t even have enough left over to buy Uly a birthday present. We’re finished, God. From now on, you answer your own fucking prayers.
God… Sir, if you are there… I despise myself for praying now when I’ve got nothing to lose, but shit, if you just help me to live through— Solon’s prayer was interrupted as a heavy corpse fell on him.
“So you’d murder me in cold blood?” she asked. “Call it preemptive self-defense.”
For the first time, Vi saw Kylar smile. It did something strange inside her when he smiled like that—and he wasn’t even looking at her. He bowed deeply. “Your Majesty,” Kylar said.
And now, in the blind stupidity of infatuation, it was more important that she have this man’s respect than that she live.
Kylar stirred. His eyes came back into focus. He wiggled his eyebrows at her, trying to be charming. The outrageous cuteness of it cracked her paralysis. His pale blue eyes said, You with me?
She wanted to confess the truth and be forgiven and have him love her back. She wanted him to hold her, to touch her cheek, to run his fingers through her hair and—
