“People are easily bribed to say whatever you’d like them to,” she said.
I tried not to scoff. Erisa knew that from personal experience. She had stolen a fortune from Locris to finance her campaign to get her creepy son, Kyros, chosen as king and had been bribing some of the other archons.
A fortune she no longer had, since my husband and I had taken it from her.
“Why would I make this up?” Xander’s voice had gone deadly soft in the way that it did when he was beyond furious.
“To use fearmongering to force the council to choose you as king. If we were at war with these imaginary enemies, then you’d argue that we would need your strength and skill to keep us safe. There is no war, and Prince Alexandros would convince you otherwise solely for his own selfish political reasons.”
Erisa had obviously practiced her answers—they came to her so quickly and easily and almost sounded believable.
Themis and Heliodora, two of the archons, looked as if they didn’t know what to think. Zethus was more interested in his goblet of wine than in the council’s proceedings.
Stolos seemed lost in his own thoughts until he said, “I think we should read and consider the reports before we make further decisions. We don’t want to needlessly worry everyone in the city before we have all the facts.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Erisa immediately agreed. “The council shouldn’t make any decisions about troops or allocations of funds until we know for sure what is happening. And we certainly can’t risk panicking the populace. Perhaps we should do something to distract them. Like a party to honor the prince’s birthday.”
“My birthday has come and gone,” Xander said. “We don’t need another party.”
“You would deny the people a chance to celebrate you? If we really are in danger of going to war as you insist, this might be their last chance to enjoy themselves. Would you take that from them?” Erisa looked far too pleased with herself.
And I understood why as I looked around the room, which was filled with servants, soldiers, and other nobles. Erisa had just neatly trapped Xander. If he refused her, word would get back to the people that he had denied them the opportunity to have a citywide celebration.
“I will make all the arrangements,” his stepmother added. “You’ll only have to show up.”
Pelias said, “I second Erisa’s suggestion. We will utilize this distraction to give us time to find out the truth.” He called for a vote and all the other archons agreed with this plan, although Themis and Heliodora seemed hesitant.
Xander didn’t say anything. He gripped my hand tightly as he turned around and left the council chambers. I hurried to keep up with him as he always walked too quickly when he was upset.
“There are unburied bodies in the weapons quarter and she wants to throw a party,” he said with a growl. “That woman and her ambition are going to get us all killed.”
“Do you think she’s part of this?” I asked in a low tone, looking around to make certain that we weren’t overheard. I hoped not, because a citywide celebration would be the perfect time to attack.
“Not even Erisa can be that foolish. Whoever is coming for us is willing to massacre everyone in their path.”
He was taking the stairs two at a time, and it wasn’t easy to keep pace. “Perhaps she’s the kind of person who would rather rule over nothing than not rule at all.”
“Goddess help us if that’s true.”
We had reached the hallway that led to our room when I said, “We will stop her.”
“We?” Xander asked, and I didn’t know how to respond. He and I were supposed to be a “we” in this fight and I couldn’t think of the right way to tell him that.
He abruptly stopped and I almost smacked into him. “You saved my life,” he said.
“What?” His nearness disoriented me and I had to force myself to focus on what he was saying. “When?”
“In Lycia. You ran into a burning house and saved me. My phratry brothers told me.”
Oh. We hadn’t been alone to speak about it since it had happened. “Io did, too. Her salves and medicines are why you’re standing here now.”
He studied me with that intense gaze of his that made my knees feel like they were made out of water. “Why did you save me? Were you worried that you would share my fate? Or was there another reason?” His voice was gentle and I thought I heard just the faintest note of vulnerability.
Or maybe that was just my hopeful imagination.
Part of me wanted to joke that I owed him, given how often he’d saved my life. But it was time to be honest. I had to learn how to stop hiding this part of myself from him.
“I was afraid,” I confessed.
