Page 105 of The Rebel's Prize

He nodded. "She did. Though I was willing." He smiled then, the expression lopsided with regret before he shook himself, the smile sharpening. "But not quite as much under her spell as she thought I was. She showed me the memory magic. She learned it from a water mage in Elenia. Or that's what she told me. Sanctii magic originally. I helped her refine it, learn how to cover up the memories lost when needed. That part requires some illusion magic to build the memories. It's complicated." His expression was self-satisfied for a moment. "I doubt many illusioners could do it, frankly. She needed me. And she trusted me to use the scriptii on myself when she told me to. But I didn't. Not always. Not in the beginning."

"You still remember some of it," Chloe breathed.Thank the goddess.

"Yes," Istvan said. "I do. I met Deandra in Partha. Nearly seven years ago. She was beautiful and funny, and I allowed myself to be charmed. I invited her to watch us perform, and after that night, we became lovers."

Had Deandra seen his skill with illusion and thought she could use him? Chloe bit back the question, not wanting to distract Istvan.

"She started to travel with us, and I...well, I fell in love." He shook his head, mouth twisting. "And slowly, she began to sound me out on my politics. She knew I was Parthan and that I had family a few generations back who were from Andalyssia. Knew the north does not always love the emperor and the empire. I have never had particularly strong feelings about that. Or I hadn't back then. But she knew what she was doing. She painted a picture of an empire where there was more freedom returned to each country. Of an emperor more willing to give countries most of their autonomy."

Alain? Willing to give up power? That seemed unlikely.

"She meant the crown prince?" Lucien prompted.

Istvan nodded. "Yes. The silver crown, she—or they—call him. We even changed the name of the troupe. She thought it amusing, but really, it just made it easy for those who might share her sympathies to find us."

The painting. Aristides in gold, Alain in silver, an emperor in waiting. Who had decided he'd waited long enough, perhaps. Chloe couldn't stop the shiver that crawled down her spine. How long had Alain's resentment been festering, twisting him into a man willing to attempt to murder his own father?

"She drew me in," Istvan said. "Turned me to her cause. There had been attempts on the emperor that had failed—the Andalyssians, for one—but she said they had learned. That they were expanding their forces. And for years that was how we worked. We traveled around, met with people, passed on messages, built a network of support. That was the plan. Work slow, gather resources, plant the seeds of rebellion. Until Alain was free to act and claim the crown. I thought it would take longer."

"What changed?" Lucien asked.

"Anglion," Istvan said. "The temple there, they were part of it. They wanted to free the land from the crown, they said. But it went wrong. The king died, and Eloisa took the throne. That was the plan. They thought they could control her. But they hadn't counted on Sophia. Who could have predicted that? A virtual nobody being such a strong witch? And avoiding the temple's control simply by fucking the wrong man at the wrong time? It was a disaster."

Chloe flinched. Istvan was probably lucky Cameron didn't burst through the door and strangle him for that comment.

"Still, the Anglions showed that a change of ruler could be brought about seemingly by accident. Apparently, at that point, Alain decided it was the right moment to try again. It seemed...hasty to me. Possibly he was worried the Anglions would find some of the trails leading to him. They didn't. So it began."

"And you know for sure it was Alain?" Lucien asked.

"Deandra met with him once, when we performed in Lumia. She thought she was cunning about it, but I followed her. I've seen enough portraits of the man to recognize him. And I heard them talking. She called him 'Your Imperial Highness.' It was either him or someone wearing a damned good illusion. And I would have known if that were the case."

He paused, stretching his fingers for a moment. "After that, she was more insistent about the scriptii. She watched me use them, so I can't provide details. But I will give you the names of everyone I know who was involved. And I hope you choke her with them."

* * *

"We need to talk to the prince."

Valentin was the first to speak when Chloe and Lucien finally stepped out of the interrogation room. Nearly two hours had passed since Istvan had started his confession. Lucien hadn't taken any notes as the man had talked, just continuing to draw him out and probe for details. Hopefully the other Truth Seekers had written everything down. Their word was evidence, but the names Istvan had given them suggested a wide network of traitors, and the details would be needed.

She could sense Lucien's fatigue through the bond but knew he wouldn't rest yet.

"Yes," Lucien agreed. "I'd rather hear it from him. Not that we need to, after that. Once Elarus confirms the boundaries of the damage to his memory, I will know what parts of that we can trust. But for Aristides's sake, confirmation from Alain will make it cleaner."

If the prince confessed, his father wouldn't have to condemn him. Alain would have condemned himself.

"Treason against his own damned father," Valentin snarled. "I never liked the little snake, but I didn't think he was twisted enough to try something like this."

His outrage was echoed on everyone's faces. Sophie’s wore a strange mix of grief and resolute anger. She knew better than most of them what the murder of a ruler did to a country.

"Neither did I," Lucien said, voice harsh.

"Power does strange things to some people," Sophie murmured. "It's a sickness, almost." She reached for Cameron's hand, and he took it, drawing her in to stand tucked into his side.

"And sicknesses must be cured," Valentin said. "Or where they can't be cured, cut out." He straightened, looking sterner than Chloe had ever seen him. "The prince has spread his poison too long."

"Yes. But not for much longer," Lucien stated. He turned to Sophie. "Your Majesty, thank you for your assistance. I think I may need Elarus if the prince proves stubborn. I'm sorry to ask it of you, but will you come with us?"

"Of course," Sophie agreed without hesitation.

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