“And outside?” I ask.
“Outside, these meetings never happened,” Aileen says softly. “These people barely know one another. They’ve never shared a table.”
Rowan inclines his head. “The opposition has existed for years. They’ve tried to weaken Charles without drawing his eye.”
“But they failed,” I say.
“Yes.” His mouth tightens. “His hunger for power is greater than anyone anticipated.”
“And their aims?” I ask.
He ticks them off without drama. “Religious freedom. Independent kingdoms. An end to forced conversion.” A pause. “An end to unnecessary slaughter.”
My chest constricts.
“Verden,” I say.
A shadow crosses his face. “Verden changed everything.”
Aileen steps closer to me. I feel her presence like a brace at my back.
“The riots in the North,” Rowan continues, more carefully now, “were not spontaneous.”
I look up. “You supplied them.”
“Weapons. Coin. Information.” He does not flinch from the admission. “The intent was pressure. Distraction. Not—” He stops himself, jaw hardening. “Not what happened.”
“He broke,” I say.
“Yes.” Rowan’s voice drops. “And none of us thought he would…”
Silence settles between us, heavy and shared.
“They are afraid now,” Aileen says quietly. “Not just of him. Of what they may have unleashed.”
“And me?” I ask. “What am I to them?”
Rowan studies me for a long moment. “You are the only one who stands close enough to the fire to describe its shape.”
I swallow.
“Be honest,” he adds. “But be careful. Truth is a blade. It cuts both ways.”
From the corridor beyond the door, I hear voices rising, chairs moving, the low murmur of people gathering closer together.
The meeting is about to begin.
“Are you ready?” Aileen asks.
I think of the bishop’s smile. Of the river running dark. Of my ring.
Will I ever be ready?
Chapter 24
Ienterthe room and feel the weight of it at once.
The doors facing the back garden stand open, letting in the night air. Curtains lift and fall in the breeze like slow breaths. Outside it is dark, save for the torches that have been lit along the path, but inside—inside there is fire. Hundreds of candles burn along the walls, on side tables, on the long table placed at the center of the room. Their light flickers and wavers, never settling.
