"How?" he raised his eyebrows.
As she had watched her father waste away, gnawed by festering ambition, Aida had realized that something must be done or he would die. So she had evolved a plan.
"Listen," she glanced hastily around and lowered her voice. "There is only one thing between you and your lawful right to the throne."
"My father!"
"Then remove it," she hissed.
"You mean kill the king!" He started as if she had surprised his own guilty thought.
"Why not?"
"It is not for a son to spill his father's blood."
"Get someone else to do it."
"And who, in all the realm of the Jaredites would dare?"