Elara stared at the paper.
Gaetan’s Boulangerie.
It had been that way for decades.
“It was a trap,” she said. “Why the hell would they do this?”
“S’part of the game.” For a second, his eyes were fiercely clear. “That’s why I changed my mind. You haffta win this thing, kid.”
She clenched the notice to her chest. “I can’t. You were wrong. I’mnothinglike my mother. I’m not idealistic, I’m not brave, I’m—”
“Learning.” He lifted her chin with his knuckles. “The Counseil and the people blowing smoke up their asses believe they know everything.But you? You’re figuring it out for yourself. A free thinker is a wonderful, dangerous thing, Ellie.”
“But I’ve made too many mistakes,” she whispered.
“You grew up fast and you grew up hard. Corinne caused that. But she also gave you something she never had—opportunity.” He pointed to the kitchen. “You know what’s outside those doors? Work. Endless work. Your mother got herself killed trying to give you room to create.”
Elara had only ever seen her mother as reckless, someone who let her anger get the best of her. Until last night, she’d never stopped to ask herselfwhyher mother and the rebels had been so angry in the first place, and the answers had been all around her.
She thought the rebels were foolish for not wanting to play by the Counseil’s rules, for not trying harder instead of opting to burn everything down.
But the game had been rigged the whole time.
“Corinne chose a different path. Not better or worse. Just different,” Gaetan said.
Elara touched her chest, almost as if to call Fernand.
She’d been wrong about him too.
Because of her mother, he and a whole new generation were ready to fight.
Because of her mother, Elara had a life in which she could learn and practice freely.
Because of her mother, because ofElara, Lafontaine was terrified.
Someone so hungry for power could only care about themselves. Nik believed he wanted to become Grand Souverain to save the Restes, but that was a lie. If he’d wanted to help, he could’ve sent medicine and doctors. He could’ve stood with Tremblay and Faucher last night. He didn’t care about peace or equality.
Then what did he really want?
And what would he do to people like Gaetan and Fernand in order to get it?
“My dear friends!” Lisette Plouffe chimed from inside the kitchen. “Last night’s second contest will be spoken about for centuries to come. A rebel’s daughter has beaten the odds and carved her way to the finals. That’s right! Elouise Auclair is none other than Elara Rousseau, daughter of the insurrectionist Corinne Rousseau.”
“Insurrectionist.” Elara snorted. “Fancy. Mom would’ve liked it.”
“She also would’ve loved your dish. Starvation magie?”
Elara shrugged. “Figured the Counseil needed a reality check.”
Outside, a group staggered by, singing at the top of their lungs, voices echoing off the bricks. Gaetan hummed along, waving his finger. He snatched the foreclosure from her grip and tucked it in his pocket.
“Help an old man up?”
Elara pulled him by the arm and shouldered his weight as he got his legs beneath him.
“Come on.”
They left, following the sound of revelry.
