I did say that, although I didn’t entirely expect him to do so. I wonder what he decided. How much of what he’ll say now is the truth, and how much of it is an invention to get me off his back.
“As I’m sure you can guess, I don’t pose as Soren to keep an eye on what the merchants are doing.”
I’d guessed that, yes. “Go on.”
“And you’ve probably also noticed that you aren’t the only one around here that hates me. Hated me?” He raises one eyebrow, the brow that was his good one when he was Soren.
“Hates you,” I say, but I must not say it very convincingly because he smiles.
“Of course. You aren’t the only person around here who hates me. In fact, I have many enemies.” He shifts, and the humor drains from his face. “Information is leaving the palace, but I don’t know how. I don’t know who it is, but someone within is acting against me. Revealing my movements, my weaknesses. My plans and edicts before they’re announced. And they’re good at it.”
My pulse races. This is incredibly revealing information. “Why would you tell me this?” Ronan is a self-admitted idiot, but surely he’s not this stupid. He knows how I feel about him.
“Because I know it’s not you. It began long before you arrived. Nithyria may hate me, but you’ve always been open in your disdain. I find it oddly comforting.”
“You find itcomfortingthat we hate you.”
“I mean, I’d prefer it if you didn’t. But you can’t make everyone happy at the same time, and I know you must realize what another rebellion would cost us. What it would cost your own people.”
I had just been thinking of that very thing. Vahlo damn him, he’s getting into my head.
“But there’s someone among my own people who is using their position to undermine me. That’s what my shadow-born are doing. They don’t know why they’re doing it—although apparently some of them suspect more than I’d realized. They keep tabs on my advisors. My friends. Even my own family.”
Ronan had little family left. Did that mean they were tailing his own grandmother?
“You think I’m insane,” he says with an empty laugh. “I think I am too. I’m going insane, at least. I have no idea who I can trust. Someone is lying to me, and it’s someone that knows me well enough to be able to hide it from me.” He sighs, and the weariness in it is bone deep. “I’m tired, Sylvie. I’ve been at war for a decade, and much of the worst of it has beenoffof the battlefield. I was delusional enough to think this would be easy. I thought I knew better than my father. What I told you about him as Soren was true. He was a good father, but he wasn’t a good king. There were things he did while he was in charge that made things worse than they had to be. I don’t blame Nithyria for rebelling.”
I’m certain he can sense my shock. And my distrust. He’s telling me everything I want to hear, and that fact isn’t lost on me.
“I know you don’t believe me. I don’t blame you for that, either. But I thought it would be simple to set things right. To undo the damage he did, to right his wrongs. But every change I’ve made has backfired. Even things I’ve done that I know I’m right about—the changes to indenturing law, for example. You remember the man in the throne room?”
How could I forget the man who died in front of me just days earlier?
“Indentured servants had no rights to petition the magistrate, even if they were abused by their masters. That happens often, unfortunately. I gave them those rights. It seemed so obvious.And yet it cost the masters—many of whom are in my own court—greatly.”
“Good,” I say. Someone who abuses their staff doesn’t deserve to keep them.
“I agree, but they’re nobility. I need their support to keep the people fed. To keep commerce flowing. I can’t strip everyone who does something immoral or illegal of their lands and title.”
“Of course you can. You’re the God-King.” He’d managed to do it to most of Nithyria. Why should these Selarans get special treatment? Especially after they’ve abused their position of power.
“I’m trying not to plunge the country into another war. We’re barely recovered from the last one.”
“You said yourself you can’t make everyone happy.”
“You sound a bit like Quinn.”
I bristle at the suggestion. “I’m nothing like her.” In fact, when he’d mentioned someone was betraying him, hers was the first name I thought of.
“No, you’re not, but on this at least you’re agreed.”
“Do you trust her?” I can’t help but ask. Not just because I suspect her, but also because I’m curious about the nature of their relationship despite Zara’s assurances that there’s nothing between them.
My curiosity is purely intellectual, of course. It’s good to know what—or who—I’m up against if I’m trying to ensnare the man.
There’s a burning twinge in my throat almost like jealousy. I resist it at first, but then I think better of it. I lean into it. Maybe it would be good to let him think I’m jealous.
“As I said, I don’t know if I can trust anyone. I’ve had to keep all of this from even Taran, my oldest friend, in case one of the guards is involved. That’s why I went myself in disguise.”
