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.

“Do you really think they’ll pull something together by tomorrow?” he asks.

I drum my fingers on my arm rest. “They better. Maybe for once they’ll stop throwing parties and put their mind and their money towards something that actually matters.”

“And what will you do if they don’t?”

I give the king a piercing look. “Exactly what you would do—I’ll make good on my threat.”

He stands. “And you wonder why I give you a portion of my power. You know how to rule.” He extends a hand out to me. “Enough plotting for a day. Come, my queen.”

Together we leave the hotel. People who see us bow like I’m not just some dying soldier from a conquered nation and the king our tyrant ruler.

I am Montes’s captive queen. I may have agreed to this fate for the sake of my people, but I’m a prisoner nonetheless.

It’s my heart and the king’s that have betrayed us both.

Our car pulls up, but I hesitate to get inside. I may be a prisoner, but I’m a powerful one.

“Serenity?” Montes says when I don’t make a move towards the vehicle.

“I want to see the people here,” I say, my gaze flicking to the king.

Montes glances around like that’s a trick question. “You have.”

I know enough about this region to know I’m seeing what powerful people want me to see. “Take me to the nearest settlement. I want to see how the impoverished live.”

Montes studies me. “I don’t need to warn you about the radiation.”

He’s actually entertaining this request. And here I thought I’d have to fight him.

“You don’t,” I say. I know better than most exactly what exposure can do to a person’s body.

He squints and works his lower jaw as he considers it.

Finally, he says, “Ten minutes. Make them count because that’s all you get.”

IT’S EVEN WORSE than I thought.

Our caravan of vehicles pulls up to the edge of a shantytown. The houses are nothing more than bits and pieces of cinderblock, tin, tattered cloth, plastic, and palm fronds. The whole thing looks like it could be swept away by the first big storm of the season.

People stop what they’re doing and watch us. It’s not every day that shiny, fancy cars bearing the king’s insignia stop at your doorstep. In my opinion, a day like that would be terrifying beyond belief.

As soon as our engine is idling, I step out of the car, uncaring that I’ve left Montes behind or that the king’s men haven’t cleared the area. The latter shout at me to stop, but I don’t. What are these people going to do to me that hasn’t already been done before?