I’ve spent five years being useful. Being Luc’s brain so he never has to think, and I’mstillnothing. “I want to feel like I matter. I’ve earned the right to matter. Men with power take and take, and they give nothing back. I want to be so powerful that no one can take it from me, no one can threaten me, or ignore me, or discard me. People like Luc have unassailable power. Is it so wrong for me to want the same?”
This world never made space for me. So, I carved room for myself into the mountain. Shoved myself into the narrow opening. And I’ve been clinging on ever since.
My arms are tired. I want enough power to feel stable. Enough that no one can yank it all away from me at a moment’s notice.
“Maybe it’s not wrong,” Sef says. “But if you’re not careful, it’s going to get you killed.”
To hell with caution. The original Honorate weren’t cautious when they took the throne from the Widow Queen and never gave it back.
That’s exactly how I intend to steal the throne from Luc.
No one gives up power willingly. Selva Sixmen resigned from the Honorate because he was forced. The Widow Queen ceded power to an Honorate because she was sick, they were on the brink of war, and she had no other options.
If I manufacture a crisis, I can force Luc’s hand. Create a catastrophe so urgent, he’ll need me—as he always does. Thenall I have to do is incapacitate him so he has no choice but to temporarily cede power to me. He trusts me. With a crisis on his hands, with no other options and no one else around, he would do it. He’d never suspect me, his sister, of keeping the power he entrusted her with. Never suspect me of using the Shadow Queen to force the rest of the Honorate into line.
By the time he realizes what’s happening, it will be too late.
It will break his heart. But he’s broken mine so many times, I no longer know guilt. She’s a distant memory.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
LOSING GRACELESSLY
Kaidren’s victory speech is as smooth and polished as one of Yelina’s pearls—and just as conceited and rage inducing as she is.
We’re gathered in the ballroom. The walls are a deep shade of blue that’s striking against the gold columns around the perimeter. All of Widow’s Hall is built around this central chamber. From here, you can see the railing and ledge of each floor above us, and the high, domed ceiling. It’s blue like the sky in the light season, painted with wispy clouds and streaks of yellow. A pale imitation of sunny days we rarely see.
Kaidren stands onstage in front of the room, crowing over his success. He rattles on about how excited he is for the masquerade ball next week, for a chance to garner final support before the third and final trial.
I stand in the back, half-hidden behind a column, trying not to look as furious as I am.
“I am so honored to be here, before you all,” Kaidren says. “I would like to extend a special thank-you to someone without whom this victory would not be possible.” That smug, self-satisfied smile that makes my insides riot stretches wider. “Everyone please join me in thankingRemira Kyler.”
The ballroom had been silent through his speech, but at that name—myname—whispers sweep through the hall like a current. Even for people who don’t know who I am, no onecan miss that the person he mentioned shares a surname with the Praeceptor.
All around, heads twist, searching for me. From his place onstage behind Kaidren, Luc gives an undignified gasp as he hears my name. He looks so stunned, the audience can’t fail to notice.
I stay hidden behind my column, jaw unhinged as I choke on fury.
“Remira.” Despite the fact that I’m in the very back of the ballroom, despite the fact that I’m hiding behind a golden pillar, Kaidren’s eyes pick me out of the crowd instantly. As if he already knew where I was. “Why don’t you join me up here? I never would have made it this far without you. Thank you for being such a great friend.” Each word drips venom. His smile is a bloodcurdling snarl.
I loathe him so much, I could scream. I could wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until he turns blue. Heads are still twisting, still looking for me. I duck out of the ballroom before they find me.
I only manage to get two corridors away before pounding footsteps echo behind me and Yelina’s voice calls out, “What was he talking about?”
My steps falter. I instantly regret it and want to keep walking, but I’ve already slowed my pace. Too late to flee now. “Nothing.”
“I find that hard to believe.” Yelina circles around me to glare. “I told you when I first saw you together there was something going on. Have you been conspiring with him this whole time? Plotting Lucien’s downfall?”
“Lina . . .” Mathson comes to her side, arm around her waist. “Lower your voice. Sound carries in these halls.”
Yelina moves closer to me, steps slow and calculated, eyes sparking with malice. “Hethankedyou.”
“He was mocking me,” I say.
“I’ve seen the looks you two exchange. If you are secretly working against us . . .”
“I’m not. Today, I nearly died so Luc could win this.”
