Again, she says nothing.
Mathson and Luc look horrified. “Mom?” Luc says, panicked.
“You can easily prove me wrong,” I say. “All you have to do is say you didn’t do it. Just say no. One word, two letters.”
Finally, she clears her throat. “How do I knowyouwouldn’t lie? If I deny it, you’ll tell them I’m lying and we’ll just have to take your word for it.”
I roll my eyes. There’s an easy test for that. “Luc and I have been playing this game forever.” I nudge Kaidren. “Will you get me an unlit torch? I’ll ask her again. If she lies, I’ll have magic to light it. If not, I won’t be able to. Simple.” I smirk at Yelina. “Unless you want to spare us the trouble now?”
She’s glaring at me with more hatred than she ever has before. “Don’t bother.”
Luc staggers back as though she slapped him. “Youled them here? On my coronation day? Why would you do that?”
I’m trying to figure that out myself. She loves Luc. Why would she want to ruin the biggest day of his life?
Andhow? They got through the Sulen gatepost because of me, but even before that, they needed to cross through Ophera without being detected by any Virdeian soldiers.
A feat only possible because Petruvia laid siege to theeastern perimeter of Farvelle during the second trial, and because for the past few months, the Honorate has blocked any efforts to increase our presence on Ophera’s border.
Suddenly, I feel so foolish I could scream.
The imposter Shadow Queen forced Selva Sixmen to block any order to increase security in Ophera. The imposter forced him to encourageotherHonorate to block it as well. I assumed it was all Flynn’s way of getting back at his father for murdering Neveah, but it was deeper than that.
“Flynn wasn’t working alone,” I say aloud. “You were his accomplice. You’ve been working for weeks to make sure Ophera wasn’t guarded, and then you told Petruvia when and where to attack. You sabotaged your own son—”
“I didn’t sabotage him,” Yelina snaps. “Petruvia wasn’t supposed to get this far.”
“Why?” Luc demands.
“They were only supposed to breach our treaty. Sulen was supposed to be well guarded, so their soldiers would be easily apprehended. If they violated the treaty first and started a war, Virdei could draft a new one, with stricter limits.”
“All this for thetreaty?” Luc says.
“For war,” Yelina corrects. “Every five years, we renegotiate that treaty to stave off war. But there are loopholes. We saw Petruvia exploit them—”
“Because ofyou,” I say.
Yelina raises her voice, speaking over me. “There are flaws to treaties with terms that apply to a Praeceptor that changes every five years. Petruvia wants to negotiate with someone more stable—a king.”
This was all for Luc. She wanted me framed for murder, and a crown for her son.
She was leading them into a trap, but they trusted her. She’sPetruvian, after all. Not to mention she’d already proved her loyalty by helping them take over Farvelle and weaken Ophera’s borders.
“I already won the throne,” says Luc.
“You won another five years in an impermanent role. Five years from now, you’ll have to compete all over again. I’m talking about making you a king forlife.”
“Virdei is a Republic.”
“We are a Republic in name only. We are basically already a monarchy with a rotating king.”
Everything about her is vile, but in this one instance, she’s right. The Republic only cares about appearances. Pretending the Honorate are good men; pretending the people’s voices carry weight; pretending the role of Praeceptor is earned.
The truth is the Honorate are liars and thieves willing to do whatever it takes to keep their indiscretions out of the public eye. With the Honorate laws of succession, the people rarely ever vote for the men who represent them. And the Tournament doesn’t ensure that the man on the throne is a worthy leader—just that he made a big enough spectacle to keep the people entertained.
“A new treaty, bound to a permanent king. One where we don’t have to share control over Ophera or its resources. I was doing this foryou.” Yelina’s voice is gentle, begging for Luc to listen. To understand.
“What about the part where you framed me for murder?” I snarl. “Was that for your son’s benefit?”
