“I assure you,” Kaidren says, raising his voice to be heard over the din. “I speak the truth. Arliss Vale is my father. As ofsix months ago, I am eighteen years old. Therefore, I have the right to vote in my father’s absence. I can prove it.” He shoves a hand into his pocket and procures a sheet of parchment.
Selectmen—the only people who areactuallyallowed to approach Luc while he’s on the dais—snatch the parchment and hand it to Luc on Kaidren’s behalf.
The chamber waits, breaths bated, as Luc reads. “This is a signed statement from Arliss Vale,” he says slowly, “attesting he’s your father.” His words shrink in volume as the sentence reaches its end.
Whispers twist through chamber like a mountain stream winding downhill.
For several seconds, Luc stares at the parchment; then his gaze shoots to the rafters. He can’t see me, but he instinctively seeks my presence for guidance. A crutch we can’t afford, but I haven’t been able to shake him of it. “We’ll need to corroborate this further,” he says.
“Of course,” Kaidren agrees smoothly.Toosmoothly. I don’t like anyone who has an easy answer for everything. “But while we’re here, I would like to cast my vote.”
I hate the way he speaks. Hate that he’s already acting as if he’s one of the most powerful men in the Republic. Hate that he thinks he has any authority here.
More than anything, I hate that he’s right.
“I know what order is on the agenda,” Kaidren says. “I vote in opposition.”
It’s as if the sheet of tshira beneath me splinters.
Ten in favor, ten opposed. This smooth-talking stranger just deadlocked the votes.
CHAPTER FOUR
ILLUSIONS OF POWER
I am so angry, my vision tints red and my throat burns from the effort it takes to hold in expletives as I march through the halls.
Months of planning and sleepless nights. Set alight by an arrogant stranger who’s never stepped foot in Widow’s Hall before today. And I know nothing about him. Secrets are power. The most effective weapons in my arsenal are all the things powerful men do in the dark. Without them, I’m defenseless.
I take a deep breath.Steel and ice. I’m made of steel and ice.
At least, that’s what I tell myself as I rap on the door to Luc’s study behind the dais.
My brother sits at his vanity, head thrust into his palms, shoulders hunched. Selectmen swarm him like flies around rotting meat, buzzing uselessly.
I clear my throat.
Luc raises his head and meets my gaze in the mirror above his desk. His shoulders loosen with relief. “Everybody out.”
The selectmen frown in confusion until they see me. Their expressions collectively curdle like milk left out in the sun.
“Sir,” one of them starts.
“Out.” For once, Luc is firm without me having to remind him.
His guards grumble, but obey. It doesn’t stop them fromgiving me their usual glares soaked in resentment, or from shoving their shoulders against mine as they pass.
I stay stoic and say nothing until they’re gone. “This was my fault.” I place a gentle hand on Luc’s back. “I should’ve reserved more votes.”
A lie. I make the votes as close as I do because winning requires a delicate balance of give and take. It’s why I do favors forallthe Honorate, not just Luc. Why I ensure not every order Luc proposes passes. Why the orders the Shadow Queen nudges along always win by near ties.
People need to believe either side has a chance of winning. Otherwise, brows would rise and revolutions would stir. Important votes are always split down the middle, to create the illusion of choice. Give people the illusion of power.
Luc pushes back his chair to pace. He’s quiet, which means he needs more cajoling. “There’s no need to worry.” I keep my voice soft. “Sef and I are going to dig. By this time tomorrow, we’ll know everything about Kaidren Vale. Every lie, mistake, and mess he thought he’d swept clean.”
“What if there isn’t anything?”
“Everyone has secrets.”
