Amryn had sensed differently. “The evidence is undeniable.”
“Evidence?” Trevill scoffed. “All you have is speculation, and even that is based off the dying words of a murderous madwoman.”
“We have the letter you wrote to her. The one she kept in case you ever turned on her. You tried to disguise the handwriting, but it’s yours.”
“Someone is trying to frame me,” Trevill snapped. “Perhaps they even impersonated me, and that’s why Marriset’s imposter was so sure I was the one to hire her. Perhaps the same person is now plotting to kill Jayveh.”
“Who would try to frame you?” Carver asked, letting skepticism color his words.
“Any number of people. The emperor’s court is filled with scheming liars.”
“Like you?”
His spine stiffened. “I’m loyal to the emperor.”
“And yet you strongly disagreed with him when he proposed the creation of the Craethen Council.”
“I’m not the only one who had doubts about the council,” Trevill ground out. “Even Chancellor Morav was initially against the idea.”
Carver frowned at that. Chancellor Morav was the emperor’s senior advisor. While Carver had always seen her as old and stern, he knew the emperor relied heavily on her advice.
Trevill must have seen his hesitation, because he latched onto it. “I’m sure the politics behind Esperance weren’t your focus, but you can ask the emperor himself. Hardly any of the chancellors thought the Craethen Council was a good idea.”
“Because you all worried about the loss of your own influence and power?”
Trevill’s eyes darkened. “If you’re looking for those who are reluctant to share power, you should look toward the church. The high clerics have long had the emperor’s ear, and I’m not the first chancellor to see it. The emperor will often be swayed by a simple word from Highest Cleric Jeremiah or High Cleric Bartholomew.”
“Bartholomew is no longer the High Cleric of Craethen,” Carver said.
Trevill blinked. “He’s not?”
“No. He retired and returned to the High Temple.”
The corners of Trevill’s lips turned down. “He was old, yes, but not frail. I find the timing of this rather suspicious.”
Carver rolled his eyes. “Of course you do.”
Trevill’s expression sharpened. “You asked me to provide suspects, and I am. I would look closely at High Cleric Bartholomew’s replacement.”
It wouldn’t hurt to learn more about High Cleric Lisbeth. The woman had come across as confident and a little cool—especially toward Zacharias, which Carver had probably enjoyed too much. Still, her replacement of High Cleric Bartholomew at a time of such turbulence in the empire was worth noting.
“Who else do you think might be framing you?” Carver asked.
“Other than the clerics?” Trevill clipped back. “I don’t know.”
“Do you have any enemies?”
He laughed once, the sound hard. “I’m a politician. Of course I have enemies.”
“Any who would go to such lengths to frame you?”
Trevill glanced away, his thoughts obviously racing. His eyes narrowed. “Chancellor Janson and I have had a rivalry from time to time.”
Chancellor Janson—the man who had summoned Berron to Zagrev and was currently investigating thesonnetrade.
“Why would Janson want to destroy the Craethen Council?” Carver asked.
Trevill threw out his hands. “I don’t know! Perhaps because of what that lying imposter claimed aboutmymotivations. Maybe Janson worries about having less of a voice in the emperor’s court.”
