I twisted my mouth to the side. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“It’s nothing to concern yourself with,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Once you’re their queen, they won’t dare speak ill of you.”

“And what about the monster in the mountain? Salandrin? What do the nobles have to say about that? They probably believe it’s one of their so-called water spirits. You’ll never get them to dive for pearls for you now, no matter how many of your devices you make.”

Another moment of silence followed. When his eyes finally met mine, the truth I hadn’t wanted to see was written on his face.

“You were never planning on making the Ilareans dive for the pearls, were you?” All this time, I’d been worried that my people would go hungry. I had never once considered they might be forced to work directly for the prince. “What will you do? Make the Varenians dive even more than they already are? It won’t get you what you want. If anything, you’ll simply run out of pearls faster. The shoals are gone. You’re lucky we scrape together as many pearls as we do every month.”

He barked a mirthless laugh. “Lucky, am I? Lucky to have a father who is dying at forty because of too many years spent in this mountain? Lucky that I will likely share the same fate?”

“Then leave!” I shouted, no longer worried about what Zadie would say. “No one is forcing you to stay.”

Ceren leaned down over me, his long hair surrounding me like a curtain. “Look at me! Do you think I can spend my life outside this mountain? I’m as incapable of surviving out there as a cave salamander. My vision is poor from a lifetime spent in darkness. My skin burns after just a few minutes in the sunlight.” Slowly, he composed his features and leaned back. “I am many things, my lady, but lucky is not one of them.”

I felt a fleeting stab of sympathy for him. But he was just one man with one life. Did he truly believe his was worth the freedom of an entire people?

He looked at me as if he could read my thoughts. “This isn’t only about me, Zadie.”

“What do you mean?”

“My father is dying, and if something should happen to me before I’m able to produce a healthy heir, this kingdom will be without a ruler,” Ceren explained. “Our land has weakened along with my father. We use resources we don’t have to keep a large army. My brother has entire regiments posted along our borders, and those soldiers have to be fed. And when the villagers aren’t able to pay their taxes because their crops have failed, who do you think they blame? Not the weather, I can assure you. So I realize my existence may seem of very little consequence to you, but thousands of people rely on me on a daily basis. Including the Varenians. Or perhaps you’d like to live under the rule of this so-called woman king to the south? I hear she captures women and children and uses them as soldiers.”

I had nothing to say in response. Ceren was right. I hadn’t thought about the larger consequences of a kingdom without a strong ruler. “But what about your brother?”

“What about my brother?”

“If something should happen to you, wouldn’t he be next in line for the throne?”

He cocked his head at me, the silvery strands of his hair sliding off his shoulders. “Is that what you would like to see happen?”

I shook my head, suddenly realizing what I’d said, how it must have sounded. “No, of course not. That’s not what I meant.”

“Why not? I don’t doubt there are many others who feel the same way. Certainly it was my stepmother’s hope. Unfortunately for her, that’s not how Ilarean succession works.”

I raised my eyebrows in question.

Ceren sighed. “This land was once a queendom. There hasn’t been a princess born since Ilara died, but our laws still state that if an Ilarean king dies without an heir, or before the heir comes of age, the crown passes to the queen.”

“Are you saying that if you died before we had children...?”

“Yes, you would be the ruler of Ilara.” His lips twitched at the corners. “Of course, we need to get married before that can happen.”

This was what Ceren did. He pushed people, making them as uncomfortable as he could, to see how they would react, to see if they would reject him the way his own stepmother had. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of my discomfort. “How old does the heir have to be before he can rule?”

“Twenty-one. My birthday is in five months. Let’s hope my father can make it that long.”

Ilara was in peril, I realized, but not just from foreign enemies. I knew pressing Ceren further was likely ill-advised, but I had to ask. “And if he doesn’t? Who would take the crown?”

He rose to his feet. “It would mean civil war. Now if you’ll excuse me, my lady. I’m sure all this talk of rulers and succession is exceedingly dull for you. I’m glad you’re feeling better. As soon as you’re well enough, you may take your day of freedom.”

I sat up a little straighter. “I can?”

“You’re surprised I would honor my words after your arrogant and nearly disastrous actions?”

My eyes rolled involuntarily. “That’s not exactly how I would put it, but yes.”

“Whether or not you had something to do with what happened at Lake Elwin, you still saved my life. And somehow you managed to survive Salandrin. I can’t very well kill you now. But I also can’t let you get away with that kind of reckless behavior. It wouldn’t do for the nobility to see you go unpunished for the crimes you so stubbornly admitted to.”

The spark of hope I’d felt when he mentioned freedom immediately died. “What are you talking about? The page—”

“The boy is gone. I suspect I have you to thank for that, as well. No, it’s clear to me that your own life means far less than that of the people you love.”

It felt like the cold water was closing over my head again, but I was on dry land. “What have you done?” I whispered.

Ceren raised his chin. “Your family has had their drinking water cut off for one week. No one at the floating market will trade with them.”

I lunged toward him, filled with rage, but he held me down easily with one hand. “How could you? They’re innocent in all this!” My eyes burned with tears at the thought of Zadie and my parents without water. Would Sami help them? Had the other villagers taken pity on my family, or did they still think I was a liar who had plotted against my own sister?

“I’ve been generous,” Ceren said, still pinning me against the bed. “They’ll survive, this time. But if you ever try something like that again, the entire village will see what happens when one of you tries to take advantage of me. Do you understand?”