Page 121 of Burn of the Everflame

If Garath or Marthe were trying to conceal their glee, they were failing in extraordinary fashion. They oozed with self-satisfied delight, not even bothering to deny it aloud.

Marthe sat up. “Let’s bring it to a vote. Those in favor of removing all seats from the council other than the Houses, the mortals, and the”—she smiled nastily at me—“independent Descended?”

I jumped to my feet. “This is not what I agreed to.”

“Oh, but it was your idea,” Marthe said, parroting my earlier words. “You gave your word that you would abide by the council’s decisions, did you not?”

“Yes, but . . . but—we’ve barely discussed it. You can’t make decisions this important on a few minutes of bickering.”

“You spoke in your own defense,” Garath said. “As did the mortals and half-mortals. Unless either of you has anything to add?” He glanced at the Unhoused Descended, then at Nidara, who glared with a fierceness that rivaled mine. Garath shrugged. “Then let’s vote.”

My eyes darted from seat to seat as I frantically counted votes. They needed eight to pass—with the five from the Houses, the mortal farmer they bribed, and that short-sighted idiot Brant, only one more would carry it.

My focus turned to the representative for the Unhoused Descended. He had the same sheen of divinely inherited perfection that all Descended seemed to share, but his posture was stooped, his head seeming permanently low, and his eyes rarely rose from his hands. It was as if, after a lifetime of being told by the Houses that he wasn’t enough, his own body had begun to believe it.

“Don’t let them do this,” I begged him. “You know what it’s like to be treated as second-class. They took away your voice. Now they want to use you to do the same to someone else.”

The man’s throat bobbed. “My village is suffering. The mortals won’t trade with us because we’re Descended. The Descended won’t trade with us because we’re Unhoused. Some years, we barely survive.” He finally met my eyes, looking as ashamed as he was resolved. “If this gives my people a chance at a better life, how can I turn it away?”

My heart fractured. It seemed like a genuine plea for me to give him a better choice. This was not a man eager to be controlled by the very people who scorned him—just a man desperate to protect his own, who only saw one way to do it.

“Give me a chance,” I begged. “I will help your people. I will lead us all to a better Lumnos⁠—”

Iléana’s shrill laughter cut me off. “You can’t even keep control of the council you formed.”

The screech of Luther’s chair sliding across stone sliced through the room. Iléana’s eyes grew round. She tugged frantically at the cuff on her wrist as Luther rose, but it was Eleanor he walked to. Again, he bent down to her ear and murmured something too low to be heard.

“She’s right,” the Unhoused man said. “If this council is to govern instead of you, I have to make sure my people’s place is secure.” He gave me a sympathetic wince before turning to Marthe. “I vote in favor.”

Zalaric scoffed. “Well, I vote against.”

“As do I,” Luther said darkly. He strode over to stand behind my chair, arms folded on his chest.

“As do I,” Nidara agreed.

“The mortals vote against, as well,” my mother declared. “That’s eight votes opposed. The proposal fails.”

“You do not speak for us, Auralie,” Brant said. “I voted in favor.”

“Have you taken one too many strikes to the skull?” she hissed. “They’re going to outnumber us.”

“They already outnumber us. The fewer of them on the council, the better.” He leaned back with a menacing smile in House Benette’s direction. “We have our ways of handling the others.”

Norwick Benette threw me a pointed look. It was all I could do not to bury my face in my hands.

“Mister Albanon?” I asked.

“I vote against.”

I threw him a thankful smile, then held my breath as I turned to the mortal farmer, whose wide-eyed gaze was dancing between me and Marthe Hanoverre.

My mother leaned near her. “When your daughter was sick, I treated her myself. Stayed at her bedside for hours. Didn’t ask for a single coin.”

“I’ve helped people, too, Auralie,” she said. “I brought seedlings for the orphans. Even taught the babes how to sow them and keep them strong.”

“Indeed. You gave those children a chance to learn a trade and stay fed.”

The woman sat a little taller, a little prouder.