Page 118 of Burn of the Everflame

“The Guardians have done many terrible things, but so have the Descended. If I took the life of every person who participated in an injustice in our past, there would be very few left in this room. I’m trying to bring the realm—the continent—together in a way it has never been, where all people are equal.” His eyes rolled, mine narrowed. “Yes, Norwick, that’s what I believe. That all of us are equals.”

“So they bomb our buildings, and you reward them?” he said, looking repulsed. “That’s the kind of Queen you’re going to be? That’s what my cousin lost his life for?”

Anger and sorrow spiraled inside me.

“Perthe was killed by Crowns, not rebels. And you’re gods-damned right that’s the Queen I’m going to be. Giving the mortals a voice isn’t a reward, it’s a right.” The crack on my cuff splintered deeper. “I am fighting a greater wrong than one burned armory. Perthe knew that, and he chose to support me. I will not let his death be in vain.”

I turned and stormed away before my emotions overcame me and every influential person in Lumnos watched me crumble at once.

A foreign concern rumbled in my chest. I knew without looking that Luther had seen what just occurred. Before he could find me, I shot toward my seat at the head of a circle of long desks set in the center of the room and loudly cleared my throat.

“Let’s begin.”

Conversation hushed as everyone shuffled toward their seats. Chairs had been placed at each table for the council members and their advisors, along with several rings of benches for all who wished to watch. The sections for the Houses were filled to the very last seat, as was the section for the mortals. Even the Unhoused Descended and the Ignios refugees had their share of supporters.

My section was filled only by my brother.

Though I’d offered a seat to every House in Lumnos, I was disappointed when all but the Twenty Houses declined, likely out of fear of retribution from Marthe Hanoverre. My hopes of diluting the power of the Descended elite would take more work than I’d thought.

What really caught my eye was the table for House Corbois. I’d grudgingly accepted that the Corbois seat would go to Luther’s father, but it wasn’t Remis reclining leisurely in the chair. It was his brother Garath, with Aemonn at his side.

Remis wasn’t even at the table. He sat among the spectators, watching his son with the deepest frown as Luther crossed the room and whispered in Eleanor’s ear.

Her face went pale. She and Luther shared a somber look, then she whispered something back. Luther’s eyes lifted to mine. Without a word, he walked away and took his seat.

I raised my voice to address the room. “Welcome to the inaugural meeting of the governing council of Lumnos. As you know, I am delegating my authority as Queen of Lumnos to this council, except for command of the Royal Guard and any Emarion Army soldiers present in Lumnos, which shall remain with me.”

“Until that Descended in the north is dead,” Marthe Hanoverre said loudly. “Then, the Guard will be ours to control.”

“Until the war ends,” I clarified. “Whatever form that may take.”

Her peppery eyebrows inched higher. “Are you saying you do not intend to kill him because he is your father?”

“My sire, not my father. I will do whatever I must to protect this realm and the people in it, but Ophiucae is not the only threat to a peaceful Emarion.”

“Indeed,” Garath said, flicking a look toward my mother.

“The council will be made up of fifteen votes. Five to the mortals⁠—”

I nodded to the mortals’ table, where my mother was seated beside four others chosen by the residents of Mortal City. I was relieved to see that one was Henri’s father, a man I knew to be fair, even toward Descended. I also recognized two others, a well-liked farmer and a man known to be the town’s biggest gossip. The fifth had fire crackling in my veins: Brant, Vance’s second-in-command during his time as head of the Lumnos Guardians. Brant had never trusted me, even then, and the look on his face as he watched me said his distrust had become outright hate.

“Another five votes to the Houses of Lumnos⁠—”

“Only five?” Marthe interrupted. “You said all the Houses would be given a vote.”

“I promised all the Houses would be given a seat. Each House may make its own decision on any given matter. The prevailing choice will carry the weight of five votes.”

“Five is not enough,” she snapped.

“Limiting the Houses to five votes was your idea, Marthe.” I flashed her an innocent smile. “If the other Houses have a problem with that, I suppose they’ll have to take it up with you.”

Her skeletal fingers clenched around the bronze cuff on her arm. There was strong magic lingering in those brittle old bones, and I had little doubt it burned for a chance at me.

“Five votes is plenty,” Garath said smoothly. His chilly smirk was a never-before-seen level of smug. “It’s all we need.”

I did not like at all how delighted with himself Garath looked. “Shouldn’t Remis be in that seat?” I asked him.

“My dear brother has decided to retire as Head of House. We agreed that the person needed to guide our family forward in these strange, uncertain times . . .” He leaned forward and steepled his hands. “ . . . is me.”