Doravan paced outside of the king’s office while Eremis and Vimos argued, although too quietly for him to hear. Somehow Vimos decided that Doravan had swindled Eremis into giving away his money, which wasn’t too far from the truth. But as long as Eremis believed that deceiving Vimos was the only way to keep the coalition out of his coffers, he would tell him anything.

  “Even shallow people know how to be greedy,” he muttered.

  “Shallow people?” a cool alto voice asked behind him. He spun around and smiled when he saw Eremis’s sister. The same hair that her brother kept unkempt and oily looked elegant and smooth on Amalla. She smiled, amused, and her pale brown eyes sparkled. “Pray tell.”

  It would have been easy to lie, to flatter and mislead anyone else. But his smile faded and the truth slipped out. “Your brother.”

  Doravan’s face flushed as she laughed. “Don’t say that,” she admonished. “If you’re going to insult the king, you have to be clever about it. At least use wordplay.” She looked up at him expectantly. “Try again.”

  Doravan swallowed. “Um …” He’d been an entrepreneur, not an entertainer. “His crown has a ruby loose? Or perhaps many of them?”

  Amalla tsked. “We’ll work on it later. Until then, don’t let Eremis hear you. And greedy too, you said?” She looked behind him at the king’s office. “What is he up to this time?”

  Another uninvited truth slipped from Doravan's mouth. “There would have been fewer shenanigans if you had been named queen.”

  Amalla looked at the floor, and an awkward silence fell between them. She shook her head and finally broke it. “Father chose what he thought was best, and overriding his decision would mean bloodshed.”

  “Perhaps bloodshed will someday be necessary.” Doravan bit his lip when he realized what he had said.

  Amalla’s eyebrow rose. “Is it really that bad?”

  He shook his head, knowing what he would say if he kept talking. “I shouldn’t be discussing this with you. It might–,” He almost said it might get him killed. “It might cause too much trouble.” She had never gotten him in trouble for telling her the truth before, but there was no escaping the consequences if anyone learned the truth.

  “Hmm.” Amalla walked past him to the king’s office. “I suppose I’ll find out when he walks out.”

  Yes; let him tell you. Doravan sighed, relieved.

  The door opened as soon as Amalla reached it. Vimos’s frown looked unsettled, but he could do nothing. He bowed to Amalla. “Your Highness.” He looked at Doravan and gave him a half smile. “I am impressed, Doravan. He says you didn’t even have to threaten him.”

  Doravan swallowed a smirk. “Of course not, Uncle.”

  Vimos allowed Amalla past him and shut the door after she entered the office. He approached Doravan and bent close to his ear. “So what did you do to him? He’s not one to part with his money.”

  Doravan faltered. He knew his uncle would be suspicious, but he didn’t think Vimos would be so forward with it. “Do to him? Do I have to have done something to him?”

  Vimos grabbed Doravan’s ear and dragged him along. Doravan protested and wriggled, but he had to be careful that Vimos didn’t rip his ear off.

  “One afternoon you are in the treasury, saying that we have to get rid of the king’s newfound wealth in order to save ourselves from the Hoarder. The next afternoon, the king is agreeing with you and trying to convince his own treasurer to get rid of his money.”

  “Don’t you think even a shortsighted child like Eremis would want to save his kingdom? I just made him see reason, just like you told me yesterday.”

  Vimos crossed his arms. “There’s something else going on, Doravan. You will tell me or I will send you back to where you came from.”

  Doravan’s breath caught. Memories flashed through his vision, of starving and wandering and being chased out of barns in the middle of the night when he had nowhere else to sleep. For years he had worried his uncle would make him go back.

  “You wouldn’t do that to me,” he whispered.

  Vimos sighed. “I wouldn’t want to, but I didn't bring you to the castle just so that you could lie your way into controlling Mengor’s affairs. I don’t want your presence here to ruin the kingdom … or your own soul.”

  Bitterness settled in Doravan’s heart, and he took a deep breath. He knew his uncle was only trying to do the most good for everyone.

  But Mengor would ultimately fall if Doravan didn’t save it. And if Mengor fell, Doravan could never rule it.

  “All right, Uncle,” he said mechanically. “I am sorry for lying to you, but the king wanted me to keep this in utmost confidence.”

  Vimos crossed his arms.

  “He is having a Conqueror’s Feast.”

  “So I heard.”

  Doravan took a deep breath again, letting his old charm take over. His rage simmered, driving him to discover what his uncle wanted to see and how he could make it look real.

  “He asked me to lie to you,” he said, his deception gaining traction. He tried to keep the triumph out of his voice, maybe replace it with hesitancy and guilt. “Telling you now still might be treasonous.”

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  “I can assure you, always telling the truth will far outweigh the consequences of treason.”

  Doravan opened his mouth to continue, but he frowned when he realized what Vimos had said. “So I could still get executed and you would watch, being proud of me for telling the truth and being proud of yourself for snitching?”

  Vimos shrugged. “I’m sure the king would understand you telling the Keeper of the Treasury about the money within the Treasury. He won’t execute you, Doravan.”

  Doravan didn’t want to fight anymore. He made a show of glancing at the king’s office. “I suppose I will just have to trust you. He is concerned that the coalition of nations around us will demand tribute based on what he currently possesses.”

  Vimos closed his eyes and muttered, drawing equations in his mind. His eyes shot open. “If he is inviting all of the coalition as he says, the tribute would leave us with only a third of his wealth.”

  “So he asked me to distribute it,” Doravan said. “If we distribute it to the people, the coalition can’t have it. I told him that even if the money is not in his personal wealth, it will return as taxes whenever he needs it.” He held his breath, praying his acting had been good enough.

  Vimos smiled. “I am proud of you, young nephew. You have come far. And on your behalf, I'm grateful that there was an honest way to protect our kingdom from the Hoarder.”

  Guilt tickled Doravan’s stomach, but he shoved it down. If Uncle really understood what the Hoarder could do to us, he would agree with me. “Thank you, Uncle.”

  “Let us begin the distribution,” Vimos said. “The Conqueror’s Feast is coming.”

  “Wait!” Doravan cut the panic out of his voice and tried again. “We have to do it quietly, remember. We can’t let the coalition or the Hoarder know what is going on, so we must do it slowly and with no fanfare. Anonymously.”

  Vimos smiled. “A perfect opportunity for you to take full responsibility. Come tell me when you release the gold, to the coin. An undertaking like this must be handled carefully; do you understand?”

  “Yes, Uncle.”

  The king’s office flew open, and Eremis rushed out. Doravan peered at the king’s wide eyes and flushed face, and then noticed a dark expression on Amalla behind him. The Heir stared hard into Doravan's soul.

  Doravan’s heart sank. What had she done to Eremis? Had he told her the truth?

  He hardly noticed his uncle and the king leave together. Amalla marched up to him, and he inadvertently backed into the wall.

  “Shenanigans.” Amalla crossed her arms. “This isn’t my brother’s scheme. He’s not that cunning. What are you up to?”

  Doravan stumbled over some attempts to form a sentence. Even if Eremis hadn’t told her what was going on, he still found himself tongue-tied like she was already prepared to expose him.

  She sighed. “You know this is going to break out of you sooner or later. Just tell me now.”

  Doravan grappled with his thoughts. He looked into her eyes and tried to lie, but once again it was not successful. Finally he gave up. “Remember when I said telling you could cause trouble? Well, the trouble is, your brother will probably have me killed.”

  Amalla laughed. “I doubt it. He worships the ground you walk on.”

  “Ama–Your Highness, I’m serious.” He shook his head, trying to dance around the truth. If nothing else, he could tell partial truths. That seemed to be working. “He has asked me to …” He finally broke eye contact with her, letting his gaze dart to the ceiling. “What I’m doing is a falsehood on multiple fronts.” He shut his eyes. “Please do not ask me to continue.”

  “I knew it!” Shen’al dove from a window in the castle hall. “I knew the king wouldn’t have let you give away all that money! You are a liar.” He landed beside Amalla and frowned.

  Doravan shook his head. “You don’t get it either, Shen’al. The king asked me to lie in the first place. If I give away the gold, I’ll be lying to the king. If I don’t give away the gold, I’ll be lying to Uncle, the ledgers, and the whole kingdom.” He threw his hands in the air. “I’m a dead man either way.”

  Amalla’s eyes widened, and she sank to the floor. “What did you get yourself into?”

  “He worships the ground I walk on, huh?” Doravan’s face flushed, and his throat dried. “I’m giving away that gold because it’s best for Mengor. Go tell the king if you want. Now that everyone knows, I have to get rid of as much gold as possible.”

  He walked to the end of the hall before Amalla caught up to him. She grabbed his arm. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

  Doravan stopped and raised an eyebrow.

  “You can just keep the money like you promised the king,” Amalla said.

  “No.” Shen’al rounded the corner. “The Hoarder of Crowns is coming. Doravan wants to get rid of the gold to keep Mengor from being razed.”

  Amalla bit her lip and looked at the carpet. “Ah. We’re too wealthy. It’s because Eremis annexed the Tribes of Fire, isn’t it?”

  Doravan’s chest swelled. Finally, someone understood.

  “You’ve spoken to Eremis about the Hoarder?” she asked, not looking up.

  Doravan scoffed. “Would he listen?”

  Amalla crossed her arms and stared into the distance. “Give me some time, Doravan.” She finally turned to him, her eyes steeled. Some vulnerable fear lurked under her expression. “Don’t give away the gold yet. You are right; Eremis would never sacrifice his wealth willingly, even if it meant guaranteeing our safety from the Hoarder.”

  Doravan looked at Shen’al, knowing he couldn’t lie if he was talking to Amalla. “This is the only way. I’ve looked at all other alternatives.”

  Amalla laughed. Doravan should have been offended or afraid, considering the circumstances, but he just watched her.

  Somehow, even though he was committing treason, she was still here talking with him and laughing at him.

  “You haven’t looked at any other alternatives,” she said. “Your uncle just updated the ledgers yesterday.”

  “Still a liar,” Shen’al said. Doravan glared at him.

  “I will figure something out, so don’t do anything until I’ve come back with some ideas.” Amalla turned and ran down the hall.

  Shen’al tossed his head at the retreating princess. “So. No more lies?”

  “I told you, I’m stuck between my uncle and the king right now. Who would you have me lie to?”

  “Come clean to your uncle,” Shen’al said. “Tell him the king's plan.”

  Doravan sighed. “You have an interesting sense of foresight. Perhaps dragons just have no understanding of human politics.”

  Shen’al’s jaw dropped. “How dare you. I'm never speaking to you again.”

  Doravan would have laughed, but he felt too nauseated. Now that Amalla had pulled the truth from him, he had even fewer options than before.

  “Hey.” Shen’al nudged Doravan’s shoulder. “Just go tell Vimos.”

  Even though Doravan's smile was fake, it still convinced Shen’al to leave. Doravan sank to the hall floor, his uncle's words echoing in his mind.

  “You will tell me, or I will send you back to where you came from.”

  “Better back on the streets than destroyed by dragon fire, Uncle.”