“THE KING IS no longer taking his tonic,” Rahim said, bursting into Fariq’s sitting room as his father was signing a pile of documents with a quill.
Fariq frowned, and waved his manservant from the room. When the door had closed behind him, Fariq said, “Watch your mouth in front of the staff. We don’t need rumors. Especially since someone murdered the heads of the FaSaa’il right under our noses. If that isn’t a clear sign that we have a traitor somewhere in our organization, I don’t know what is. We don’t know who we can trust.”
Fariq had no idea just how true his words would turn out to be. Rahim turned from his father before he could see the rage that crawled through him at being given orders.
He was the future king.
He was through taking orders from anyone.
“Now, what is this about not taking his tonic? The palace physician refilled it just yesterday.”
“Well, I don’t know what he’s doing with it, but he isn’t swallowing it.” Rahim turned back to Fariq, though the rage was still clawing at its cage. “His eyes are clear. He isn’t shuffling around and running into things. He asked me several very pointed questions yesterday, and I think he knows the tonic was poison.”
Fariq laid his quill down. “And did you answer those questions carefully?”
Rahim closed the distance between them. “I’m not a fool, Uncle. I deflected suspicion from me and agreed with him that he might be in danger and that he should double his personal guard.”
“You are a fool.” Fariq glared at his son. “You don’t validate his fears and make him harder to reach!”
“If I hadn’t agreed with him, I would have looked guilty. He was fishing for it. Asking me questions about my mother. About Milisatria. About the symptoms of his illness. About you.”
Fariq froze. “He suspects me?”
Rahim nodded. Oh yes, the king suspected his cousin of trying to kill him and remove him from the throne. Rahim had made sure of it. It was unfortunate that the king’s suspicion of Fariq had caused him to stop taking his tonic. Rahim couldn’t afford to risk the king recognizing Javan and halting the coronation. Still, he could dose the king with saffeyena the morning of Maqbara’s competition, and that would keep the king in a groggy state long enough to be seen with Rahim without acknowledging Javan, a certain way to stop the gossip about whether Javan was a royal. After the coronation, the king could have a well-timed accident, and Rahim’s future would be secured.
“We must move quickly and carefully.” Fariq turned to look out his window at the golden sunshine pooling on the mosaic tiles of his personal courtyard. “With extra guards, it will be tricky, but the key is to make it look like an accident.”
“We can’t kill him immediately after he hired extra guards and told them he thinks you’re making a move against him and his son.” Rahim’s voice was cold as he slowly pulled his royal purple sash from around his waist. “The important thing is that I get the crown. I’ve promised him I’d reveal whatever it was Javan was supposed to show him at his mother’s grave at the coronation. Made a big deal about wanting it to be a moment that honored her in front of the entire kingdom. He bought it. The coronation is proceeding on schedule.”
“It’s still more than a week away!” Fariq tapped his fingers on the table impatiently. “As the poison continues to leave his system, his thoughts will be sharper. His logic clearer. And if he suspects me, he’ll come after me to protect you.”
“It’s what a loyal father would do for his son,” Rahim said as he moved to stand directly behind Fariq’s chair. “And, of course, it’s what a loyal son would do for his father.”
“What are you—”
Swiftly Rahim wrapped the sash around his father’s neck, twisted it tight, and pulled. Fariq clawed at his son’s hands, knocking the parchment and quill to the floor. Rahim dug his heels into the rug and held on. As his father’s struggles lessened, Rahim leaned down and let every ounce of bitter rage he’d nursed for seventeen years out of its cage.
“The important thing is that I get the crown. Not you. Not the father who left his son to rot in poverty and filth for years.” He twisted the sash tighter. “My new father believes me to be a loyal, honorable son worthy of being his successor. You’ve just helped me prove him right.”
Fariq’s body went limp, and Rahim slowly let go of the sash. And then he turned to find the king to report that someone loyal to the king had apparently uncovered Fariq’s treachery and put an end to it.