Faucher smiled, and it gave Elara hope she was on the right track. “Is that the kind of effort you’ll bring as Souverain?”
“You can ask my Patron,” she replied. “I don’t do anything in half measures.”
A bit of laughter came from the dark. A crowd was watching.
The gears roared back to life, spinning her to an entirely new station with a half-mixed batter, diced strawberries, and cream, partially whipped.
Quickly, she went to work as best she could to identify Hector’s intentions and keep going.
Souverain Cormier of Arts Nécessaire sat before her. “While I am not yet convinced of your loyalty to this Counseil, my colleagues have beseeched me to maintain an open mind.”
“I’m grateful,” Elara replied.
“Given your Restes background, how would you balance your love for them with your duties as Souverain?”
“They’re one and the same,” Elara said, greasing a set of canelé tins for the batter. “Your duty as Souverain is to extend the reach of Arts Nécessaire, no? Why not do so in the Restes where fresh produce is impossible to find? Why not recruit talented farmers there?”
“They lack the skill,” he spat.
“Because you refuse to educate them.”
The stage spun again. Elara was back to her station, which was no longer coq au vin. It was a broth of some sort.
Hector answered questions this round, his voice amplified around the room.
Then Berina.
On her next round, she faced Souverain Tremblay of Arts Visuels, another Souverain who had voted for her.
The next round of questions was safer.
What’s your greatest strength?
What’s your greatest weakness?
Why would you be best suited for Souverain?
By the end of her rotation, she’d lost track of all the dishes.
Back at her original station, she found a bubbling stew and the chicken roasting in the oven. What the hell was happening?
To her right, Hector cursed. “Who burned my caramel!”
“And you added broth to this?” Berina snapped back.
Elara could save her dish. If she took the chicken out now, she could—
The stage spun.
Souverain Gabriel of Arts Manufacturiers dove right in. “In our investigation, we learned Corinne Rousseau was not your only mentor. Gaetan Arnaud of the first competition also tutored you.”
“Yes,” she replied evenly. “He taught me as a child while my mother was working.”
“Working… or planning to destroy the city?”
Elara shrugged, figuring levity was best. Everyone already knew the truth. “Both.”
She came face-to-face with Lafontaine.
