He walks me back to the bed, and I sit down on the edge of it.

My body’s trembling from exertion. It’ll pass in another ten minutes, but until then I feel every inch of my mortality. How fragile the human body is when it’s riddled with sickness.

He hands me a glass of water.

I look from it to him. “What’s going on, Montes?”

He sighs. “Does kindness always have to have a price on it?”

“When it comes from you? Always.”

I eye him over the rim of the glass as I take a drink. “You taught me that, you know—to never trust people’s motives.” Had I not lived through the king’s war, I’d never have grown up so jaded.

“I know,” he admits. “All your worst qualities lead back to me. And those are the ones I love most.”

I shake my head, a reluctant, rueful smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

His eyes twinkle at the sight. We’re sharing a moment, I realize. And it’s not one based on hate, or humor, or lust. There’s a chance we might actually be good together if we manage to not kill each other first.

“IF I HAD even half as much money as Diego’s receiving, I’d actually be able to implement good ground control …”

My boots squeak as I reposition them. I’ve taken to kicking my feet up on the conference table while the idiots around me fight over scraps.

“My holdings are twice as large as yours,” Diego says. “Even with the money allocated to my territory, it won’t be enough for ground control.”

Day two of discussions has begun. We’re only two hours in, but I’m just about done.

Next to me, the king sits back in his chair, running his thumb over his lower lip. That same hand held my hair back while I was sick.

The king never was like other people; I don’t know why I keep allowing myself to be surprised by him.

A third person jumps into the debate. “My holdings are larger than either of yours, and our budget is one of the smallest here.”

On the surface, every person here sounds reasonable. They have convenient explanations lined up for why they should be paid more. As though they’re not going to use most of the money on personal expenses. Already the line item breakdown of many of these proposed budgets includes extravagances like extra planes, additions to homes, and hefty vacation plans.

“That’s because no one lives in your territory,” another says. “Mine is one of the smallest, but it’s also the densest, and it’s one of the most violent regions of South America. If we are going to implement ground troops, they should be concentrated in the city centers.”

I’ve reached my limit.

“Alright,” kicking my feet off the table, I stand, bracing my hands against the table, “if I hear one more goddamn reason why any of you deserve more than what you already have, I swear to God I will kill you myself.”

The room falls silent. “No one is getting ground troops. Martial law is over. You will all set up your own police forces with the budgets we’ve already given you. Anything else will have to come out of pocket. And after reviewing your generous compensation plans, it damn well better.

“My husband may be king, but he has left me in charge of South America’s affairs. You are one of those affairs, and frankly, I don’t like any of you. You want to keep your jobs and your titles? I want to see some proposals tomorrow for government programs that will help your people. And they better use up every penny of your budgets.”

Montes is now pinching his lower lip, his other hand drumming against his seat rest. His expression is pure satisfaction.

“Now get the fuck out of my sight if you don’t want to lose your jobs right this instant,” I say.

I’ve never seen a room clear so quickly. The silence that follows their exit fills my ears.

“Your father trained you well.”

I turn to Montes. “My father would’ve been mortified by the way I handled that,” I say, weary as I take my seat.

“This is not your father’s world, and those men and women will take all that you have to offer and more unless you stop them.”

“Then why do you deal with them? You clearly have no qualms about getting rid of people. Why keep the worst ones around?”

“Haven’t you heard? All the good, honest leaders have been killed off. Only the weak and wicked remain.”

We run in circles. It’s no use telling him that before he rose to power the world had done a decent enough job keeping the sociopaths away from office. But in war, it appears they’ve popped up like weeds. Not just here, either. Montes’s entire inner circle is made up of them, men too afraid or too evil themselves to stand up to the king.

“You handled that well, Serenity.” There’s genuine pride in his voice and I gain insight into something I hadn’t noticed before.

“You really do want me to help you rule.”

“Of course,” he says.

But there’s nothing obvious about this. “Why would you share that with me?”

He steeples his hands beneath his chin. “Despite everything, I trust you with my power.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You really shouldn’t. I’ve already admitted I plan on killing you.”

He leans towards me. “And I’ve already told you, I don’t believe you’ll ever do it.”

We stare each other down. Another battle of wills. I look away first.