The Crimson Crown by Cinda Williams Chima

needs murdering, he thought.
    She leaned back from him, studying his face, still keeping hold of his stoles. “Well? Do we have a bargain?”
    It would be so easy, he thought, looking down into Fiona’s impatient face. Nobody knew he was in the Council House. A quick killing charm or a blade to the throat, and this threat to Raisa would be handled.
    But only one threat among many. He had to keep his game going—he had to play for it all if he was ever going to make Raisa safe.
    He couldn’t very well pretend to sign on to murder Raisa, but he didn’t want Fiona going off and hiring her own bravo to do the job. Better to be on the inside of this little plan.
    He struggled to control the rage in his voice, make his tone cold and sardonic.
    “Will you be there to support me when I climb the deadly nevergreen and dangle for murder?” Han said. “Seems like I’m putting in a lot more than you.”
    Fiona looked confused, as if the offer to couple with her was all he could ever hope for. “What else do you want?”
    “You say you’ll make me consort,” Han said. “If I’m to do the killing, I mean to aim higher.”
    She blinked at him, nonplussed. “Higher than consort? You? What else could you possibly want?”
    “Maybe I want to be king,” he said. “Help me, and I’ll make you consort.”
    He’d never seen Fiona Bayar totally speechless before. It was far more pleasant than hearing her talk.
    “You? A king?” The color drained from her face, leaving it sheet-white with anger. “A jumped-up, gutterbred thief—son of a—a ragpicker ? I present you with a serious and generous proposal, and you answer with this preposterous—”
    And then Han lost his temper. He was so bloody tired of hearing the who do you think you are line from the Bayars. And he was afraid—afraid he’d make a misstep and Raisa would die.
    He gripped Fiona’s elbows, gripped them hard. “ Is it preposterous? Is it?” He gazed into her eyes. “Do you know who I am?”
    Fiona’s usually icy eyes had gone wide and a little frightened. “You’re Han Alister. A…street thief turned wizard.”
    “Look at me, Fiona,” Han said. “Really look at me. Do you think that’s all I am?” Unchanneled magic stormed through him, buzzing under his skin.
    She shook her head, staring into his face as if looking for clues. “I…I don’t know what you want me to say.”
    “You bluebloods are fixed on bloodlines,” Han said. “I am the perfect marriage of royal lineage and wizardry, of legitimacy and magic. I’m heir to a legacy even you Bayars can’t match, that was stolen from us centuries ago.”
    “Royal lineage!” Fiona was going for disdainful, but not quite pulling it off. “Who do you think you—”
    “What you need to know is that I won’t stop until I get what I want. You can be with me or against me. But choose carefully.”
    He gave Fiona’s amulet a toss, and she leaped forward to catch it in her two hands.
    “Let me know what you decide.” Han turned on his heel and walked out.

C H A P T E R  T E N

INTO THE
SNAKE PIT
    Han strode down the corridor, back the way he’d come, all his senses on alert in case Fiona came after him, either to attack him or to accept his proposal.
    As he walked, he berated himself, sorry he’d lost his temper and spoken so plainly. Once something was said, it couldn’t be unsaid. How could he forget that?
    He hadn’t spilled it all, but with what he’d given her, Fiona might figure it out. And if she did, she might tell her father. Or she might not, since she was so far into her own schemes.
    If he heard back from her, it might keep Raisa safe for a little while, even if Fiona meant to renegotiate later on—after he hushed the queen. But if she didn’t contact him—
    He had ten minutes to find the meeting room. He hadn’t meant to arrive at the last minute, but now there was no avoiding it.
    He clattered down the stairs two at a time, and turned down the first-floor