Page 119 of Burn of the Everflame

Beside him, Aemonn shifted in his seat, though his attention was not on his father, but on the man seated between his brother and Luther: Zalaric Hanoverre.

I glanced at Remis. The internal politics of House Corbois meant little to me now, but I had to admit, my curiosity was piqued. Remis Corbois was not a man who let go of power without a fight, yet there he sat, not a word to speak at being so summarily dismissed.

Another warning bell clanged in my head.

I looked at the other tables. House Corbois was not the only one with an unexpected face in its seat.

“Evrim Benette,” I said. “If I remember correctly, you refused to serve on this council.”

He shot me a withering glare. “I changed my mind.”

In the packed mass of spectators from House Benette, Norwick had been relegated to the back. I couldn’t tell whether his dour expression was for me or the uncle who’d unseated him.

My heel bounced nervously under the table. After the catastrophic introduction Norwick and I just had, maybe I was better off taking my chances with Evrim. His greedy motives made him easy to predict. His vote could probably be bought, for the right price.

But I’d given my word.

And that was not the kind of Queen I was going to be.

“My rules were clear, Evrim. A Head of House is entitled to their House’s council seat, but if they refuse it, I get to appoint their replacement.”

Evrim’s face went so hot, I wondered if his mustache might begin to smoke and curl. His fist slammed on the table. “You have no right to choose who leads my House!”

“You’re still Head of House. Until that changes, Norwick keeps his seat. But if you’d like to resign, I’m sure one of your kin would be thrilled to take your place.”

The crowd of Benettes quivered with anticipation, sharks in bloody water sensing the aroma of a fresh demise. One glance over his shoulder, and Evrim sensed it, too. He dragged out his chair and nearly shoved his advisor to the ground so he could take the seat beside it.

Norwick’s glare locked on me as he made his way to the table. I felt a little guilty that I’d just made him an enemy within his own House. When he took his seat, Evrim grabbed him by the arm and hissed words into his ear that had his features hardening to stone.

“As I was saying,” I resumed, a little less sure-footed, “five votes to the mortals, and five to the Houses. Of the remaining five votes, one will be cast by the independent Descended”—I nodded at the Unhoused Descended, whose faces flickered with pleasant surprise at my description, then I gestured to Nidara—“and another by our new residents from Ignios.”

A few quiet grumbles rose around the room.

“Two more votes will be held by half-mortals. One for those residing in Lumnos”—I nodded to Luther, then to Zalaric—“and one for those still exiled abroad.” The murmurs grew louder, and I hurried on. “As the Crown of Lumnos, I will hold the final vote.”

“And one vote is all you will take?” Norwick asked. “Even if the council makes a decision you don’t like?”

Even if we decide to execute the Guardians for what they’ve done? his pointed stare seemed to ask.

This was a dangerous gamble. I would never truly sit back and watch mortals led to slaughter, but breaking my word would have consequences. Even Vance’s violence might pale in comparison to the war I would start at home.

“Just one vote,” I said. “Now . . . let’s get to the business of running the realm.”

Marthe rapped her bony knuckles on her table. “House Hanoverre has a matter to raise for a vote.”

The alarms in my head grew louder.

“I propose that the Crown of Lumnos be removed from this council and that its vote be permanently stripped.”

“A brilliant suggestion,” Garath chimed in. “I second the proposal.”

“Thirded,” Brant shouted from the mortals’ table. My mother’s head whipped toward him.

“Out of the question,” Luther said. “Diem was chosen to rule by all nine of the Blessed Kindred. If any person belongs here, it is her.”

No one spoke up to agree.

“Why should you get a seat?” the mortal farmer asked me. “Each of us represent a much larger group. You only represent yourself. Do you believe your voice is worth more than all of ours?”