“Or perhaps you’re giving me Janson’s name because you hate him and want to drag him down with you.”
Trevill’s eyes narrowed, but before he could snap out a reply, Carver asked, “Anyone else?”
Annoyance crossed Trevill’s face, but after a short, considering silence he said, “Chancellor Kulver was upset about my appointment to Esperance. He wanted the assignment for himself. He’s young, ambitious, and new to the emperor’s staff. He’s been desperate to make a name for himself. He may have wanted to see me fail.”
Carver was unfamiliar with the name, but he intended to learn all he could of Chancellor Kulver.
When Trevill didn’t name anyone else, Carver asked, “Do you think either of those men might have hired the assassin that tried to kill Jayveh?”
“Anything is possible.” Trevill’s gaze sharpened. “I know you believe me guilty of treason, but I did not hire the assassin who tried to kill Jayveh, and I do not know who did.”
Truth rang in those words. Despite everything, Carver was inclined to believe him—in this, anyway. “What about the mercenaries on the road? Did you hire them?”
“No.”
The answer was given with no hesitation. And since Trevill had been in danger during the attack, it seemed plausible that he hadn’t instigated it. But a fellow conspirator might have.
“Did you have an accomplice outside of Esperance?”
Trevill’s lips thinned. “No.”
The hesitation was slight, but telling. Carver purposefully lowered his voice. “You might be able to save yourself from execution if you cooperate.”
Trevill’s spine straightened. “I am guilty of nothing, thus I have no accomplice.”
Carver considered the chancellor. He knew Trevill was guilty, so he may indeed have an accomplice—but Trevill seemed genuinely surprised that an assassin had struck Jayveh. Since that was Carver’s current goal in questioning Trevill, it was easy for him to ask, “Do you have any idea who at the palace might want Jayveh dead?”
Trevill frowned. He leaned back against the wall behind him, the chains around his ankles clinking as he shifted. “With Argent missing and possibly dead, Jayveh has become one of the most important people in the empire. That makes her a target. Especially if her pregnancy is known.”
All true, unfortunately. But because Carver wanted to understand Trevill’s reasoning, he asked, “Why?”
“You know as well as I do that if the emperor dies without an heir, the emperor’s advisors rule until a new heir can be selected. Someone could be vying for the throne.”
A conclusion Carver had just drawn as well. “The chancellors are tasked with choosing the new heir.” The emperor had written that law himself, at the formation of the empire. It had never seemed ominous before, but . . . “If something happens to Jayveh and her child, the chancellors would have unprecedented power,” he murmured.
Which, by default, meant the church would lose power. That fact alone made it less likely that the clerics were behind the assassination attempt. They would want a clear line of Vayne successors, to better continue their spiritual reign in the empire.
“If you’re thinking one of the chancellors would try to kill Jayveh in a bid for power, you’re wrong,” Trevill said. “No chancellor is allowed to be appointed as the new heir.”
“And yet, the chancellors would still control the empire.”
“Collectively,” Trevill allowed. “No one would have more sway than another.”
“You’reforgetting,” Carver said slowly. “There is one chancellor who has more influence than any other.”
Trevill’s eyes met his. “Chancellor Morav.”
The head of the emperor’s advisors.
“I need to know everyone who saw the letter Jayveh sent you,” Carver said.
He’d left Trevill’s cell a quarter hour ago and was now sitting at the wide desk in the emperor’s office.
The emperor—seated across from him—frowned. The lines in his face were deep, his exhaustion clear. But his eyes were alert as he said, “I shared it with only a few. Your father, of course. And Morelli and Keats, as it directly concerned our fight with the Rising. I also shared it with High Cleric Lisbeth.”
Hector glanced up from his small desk in the corner, where he was jotting down notes. “You also shared Jayveh’s report with Chancellor Morav, Your Eminence.”
The hairs on the back of Carver’s neck lifted at the sound of that name. “Was there anyone else?” he asked the steward.
