There are twenty rostered Honorate, but only nineteen who matter. For the past two years, Honorate Arliss Vale has been too sickly and bedridden to come to council, let alone vote. With his absence, all we need are ten votes for a majority.
The air is tense as selectmen retrieve the ballots and present them to Luc. I hold my breath as he sorts them into two piles.
A draft blows through my attic, cool enough to make me shiver, but I burn with trepidation, and my palms are sticky with sweat.
Luc clears his throat. “The votes have been counted. There are nine opposed . . .”
Relief is a splash of cool water. My racing heart slows. Luc will be Praeceptor again.
He keeps going. “. . . and ten in favor. With that—”
Thud.
Luc’s words lurch to a halt.
Everyone whips around to face the source of the disturbance—? the chamber’s double doors slamming open.
That brief rush of relief abates into confusion. An unknown figure marches into my field of view. He strides confidently down the center aisle, as if he’s done it a thousand times before.
Except he hasn’t. I watch every single council meeting, and I’ve never seen him before.
I eye the selectmen, waiting for the guards to tackle the intruder and haul him from chamber.
No one moves.
Their inaction stings. More than it should. IfIstepped foot in chamber—if I so much as lingered in the open doorway a beat too long—Luc’s guards would waste no time in shoving me aside and slamming the door in my face.
Doesn’t matter they’ve known me for years; they never miss a chance to remind me just how unwanted I am. Yet they let this stranger stroll in without question.
Luc is the first to speak. “Excuse me, but these are private proceedings. Open only to—”
“The Honorate and their sons,” the stranger interrupts smoothly. “I’m aware.”
The chamber rumbles with whispers. Whoever this interloper is, he just spoke over the Honored Praeceptor. A flagrant breach of decorum, and still, the selectmen do nothing.
The stranger reaches the front of the chamber and turns. Dismissively gives his back to the Praeceptor in a move that can’t be anything but intentional. The council is buzzing. Luc should call him out for this slight, but I’m not there to tell him what to do, so he says nothing.
My glare roves over the intruder. He’s young (around myage) and tall (even taller than Luc). Dressed in a green wool sweater and thick pants made for snow. Through his heavy layers, I see his build. The way his clothes mold perfectly to his body. He’s broad in the shoulders, muscular in the arms, and his skin is dark, rich, and smooth, like mahogany. His black hair is a bit too long for my tastes, but the rest of his face more than makes up for it.
A jawline that could mine tshira. Cheekbones that appear carved from ice. His mouth is wide and lips are full, as though made for laughter, and his brows are arched with good humor.
My throat dries as I stare.
“My name is Kaidren Vale.” The intruder has a deep, husky voice filled with warmth, like being wrapped in a wool cloak. “I am the only son of Honorate Arliss Vale. And before we continue . . .” His lips curve up, into the tiniest of smirks. “I have a vote to cast.”
He must be lying. Arliss Vale never married and has no children. I tense, bracing for the soothing heat of a lie—
—except I’m ice cold.
Stars in hell, he’s telling the truth.
The debate chamber erupts. Honorate leap to their feet, shouting their disbelief and demanding he leave. Selectmen finally move to escort him out.
As for me, I do nothing. I can’t. My entire world is shifting, like I’m trying to balance on a sphere rolling downhill.
He’s telling the truth, he’s telling the truth, he’s telling the truth . . .
No matter how many times I turn those words over in my mind, I can’t believe them. I’ve made it my job to know everything so I’m prepared for anything. I wasn’t prepared for this.
