I clenched my fists and forced my eyes open.
“You’ve ruined everything.” Arsenault flashed a glittering grin, an expression at odds with the sweat pouring down his face and the blood all over his hands and his dead godson at his feet. “But then again, perhaps now everything is as it should be.”
A Duskland shadow fluttered against my heart, and I took a step away from Arsenault. I dragged my eyes away from the two joined Relics—they set my teeth on edge, in a way that made me want to touch them for myself, take them for myself, conquer the world with them.
“As it should be?” I kept my eyes locked on him, but reached my attention toward the world frozen around us. He’d nearly lost control of his legacy, when Gavin died—I’dfeltit. He was fallible. He wasn’t completely in control. I just had to find a way— “Why did you really come here, Arsenault?”
“To crown the true Sun Heir.”
“Please,” I scoffed. “Gavin’s dead. There’s no need to lie to me now.”
“Gavin?” Arsenault cocked his head to one side and laughed. “I loved him, but the boy was weak. He was no more true Sun Heir than you are. Did you know he truly believed he had no legacy? He used it without thinking, without any intent whatsoever. It made him so easy to manipulate. All I had to do was tell him to shine—and heshone.
“No—he was no true Sun Heir. I might have allowed him a tide or so on the throne, for appearances’ sake. But I’m here to finish what your deceitful, treacherous, conniving father started.”
“You still think Xavier—” A diamond-bright shard of realization sliced through the wasteland of my confusion. “Not Xavier.You.”
Arsenault slapped the blade against his palm in a mockery of applause. Droplets of blood spattered the front of his clothes.
“But—” My mind raced forward and backward, gathering everything I thought I knew and scattering it over the ashes of what I was coming to realize. “Xavier was Sylvain’s cousin. Remy Legarde was from another branching line of Sabourins. And you—you weren’t just Xavier’sconfidant, were you?”
“D’Ars,Arsenault,” he growled. “It’s amazing to me how few people pick up on the similarity.”
“His illegitimate brother,” I guessed.
“Bastard-born,” Arsenault agreed. “Just like you.”
Just like you.I fought against a sudden whirlpool of similarity threatening to suck me under. Half-siblings, locked in conflict for a throne. An accident of birth pitting people who ought to have loved each otheragainsteach other. A Sabourin legacy of blood and death and treachery.
“I’m nothing like you,” I snarled, backing away from him, closer to the edge of the platform.
“No,” Arsenault agreed. “When you challenged Gavin to the Ordeals, I thought you might be a worthy opponent. But you’re weak, just like him. Just like your wretch of a sister.”
“Severine?” Something caught in my throat. “What did she ever do to you?”
Ancient fury surfaced in his crackling eyes. The sword in his hand pulsed light across the motionless crowd. Again, time stuttered forward, then stopped once more. My heart throbbed with the ebb and flow.
“She wanted all the Relics for herself, didn’t she?” he rasped. “But not to win the Ordeals, no. She didn’t want to do it therightway. She didn’t want toplay.She was just as treacherous as Sylvain. She went behind everyone’s back, trying to gather up the scattered Relics in order tohidethem, todestroythem. Just so she wouldn’t have to face off against that weird, feeble weakling of a brother.”
My chest pulsed tighter. “Did you kill him?”
“Of course I did,” he said. “I needed his Relic so Severine couldn’t take it. I needed his Relic so I’d be able to play in the next Ordeals. So I could finallywin. Sylvain cheated me out of being Sun Heir once. Not this time. Not ever again.”
“You’re a monster,” I ground out. “How many more Sabourins have to die because of these archaic Ordeals? Because you fancy yourself Sun Heir?”
“Ideally?” Arsenault smiled. “Just one more.”
He lunged toward me. I sidestepped away, breathing hard, and reached into my bodice. The ambric Relic dangled from my hand, glowing faintly. Arsenault stopped dead when he saw it, desire slicking his manic eyes. I slid my gaze to the side, and was rewarded with the sight of the crowd faintly stirring, the deep elongated sound of sluggish voices. Scion, I just had to keep him talking. I just had to make him angry, knock him off-balance.
“I’ll give you this,” I promised. “If you spare my life.”
Gloating self-satisfaction painted Arsenault’s face. His shoulders relaxed, and he lowered the sword.
“Or,” I said, “I could just do this.”
I dropped the Relic to the ground, lifted my skirts, and stomped on the sunburst as hard as I could. My high heel crushed its center, then split it apart. It shattered with a sound like a heart breaking, sending ambric shards skittering over the platform.
“No,” Arsenault whispered. Disbelief shattered his face, and behind him the crowd stirred. Achingly slow, like they were moving through honey. Arsenault dropped to his knees by the glittering ambric shards, the sword dangling from his fingers.
