Page 38 of The Rebel and the Rose
Sera kept her expression blank, but unease prickled under her skin. He was a lot better versed than she’d suspected. Thenagain, they had been up and down the length and breadth of Valterre spouting about Lightfire to any smuggler who would hear them. She had been naive to think he wouldn’t hear about it – or indeedcareabout it.
‘The question is, what do you plan to do with your special brand of magic now?’ His voice fell to a deadly low. ‘I hear your first shipment has reached the streets of Fantome. Some of your vials have found their way into the hands of those who seek to harm me. They are using your magic to protect themselves from the consequences of their own traitorous actions.’
There was a heavy, daunting silence.
Sera’s heart thundered furiously, panic scrambling her thoughts.
This was bad. Very bad.
‘So Imustask,’ he went on, with a flat, sinister smile, ‘what else does your Order have in mind for my rioting capital? Do you count yourselves among the rebels who seek to dethrone me?’
‘No.’ The word whooshed out on a staggered breath. ‘No, of course not.’
‘We harbour no ill will towards the Crown,’ added Theo, quickly.
The king’s eyes darkened. Very slowly, he said, ‘Then why are youarmingmy rebels?’
Sera grasped for something to say that was not about to get them killed. ‘Lightfire is not a weapon, Your Majesty. It’s simply a way for the good people of Valterre to protect themselves from Shade. To feel safe in their own city.’
Caruso snorted.
The king’s advisers exchanged a series of bemused glances.
The king canted his head. ‘Would you prefer that your own king feels unsafe in his kingdom?’
A dangerous question.
Sera could see now how deeply the king and the Daggers were intertwined, how he relied on more than just his soldiers to keep his restless subjects in line. Ransom and his Order had their own part to play in the king’s secret undercourt, and Sera’s Order of Flames was plainly disrupting it.
All she could do now was plead ignorance.
‘I’m no rebel, Your Majesty,’ she said, firmly. ‘We only want what’s good for the kingdom.’ She swallowed. ‘And our king.’
Theo nodded emphatically. ‘We made the Lightfire to save Fantome from those monsters.’ This, at least, was true. And by the way his eyes shone with conviction, Sera hoped the king would believe it. ‘We would never knowingly move against the Crown.’
‘Bullshit,’ muttered Nadia.
The king sat back in his chair, momentarily surrendering his ire for a slab of cured ham, shoving the entire thing into his mouth in one bite. Swallowing thickly, he said, ‘Let us put your stirring convictions to the test, then. I’m sure you are wondering why I invited you here.’
Sera exchanged a side-glance with Theo.Invitedwas one way of putting it.
‘I have a task for you.’ He paused meaningfully, his gaze roving across the table. ‘Allof you.’
The Daggers shifted uncomfortably.
‘You are well aware of the dissent festering across my kingdom.’ The king’s expression turned grave, the high colour fading from his cheeks. ‘The fall of the Aurore has marked a change in the fortunes of this kingdom. A change that some believe was foretold by Saint Oriel one thousand years ago.’
Behind him, his quartet dipped their heads in perfect unison, wariness alighting on their withered faces.
‘In their fear and ignorance, the people of Valterre are holding me accountable for this act of divinity. In the wake of those monsters, and the destruction of their great symbol of light, they believe my time as king is at an end. That they need a different leader.’ He barked a mirthless laugh. ‘Simple minds will reach for simple explanations, but I have done nothing these past few months to earn such flagrant, violent ungratefulness.’
Perhaps that’s the problem, thought Sera.
The king hadn’t shown his face once in Fantome since the monsters had ripped through it, or even issued a letter of strength and solidarity to his people. Not before or after the Aurore fell. He had willingly neglected the chaos in the capital, letting the wave of paranoia swell, and only cared about it now that the tide was finally reaching him in his castle.
It was an effort to keep these thoughts from her face, but she did her best, pressing her lips together until her teeth bit into them.
‘There is an agitator, of course. Every uprising needs a leader. Someone to seize upon their terror and whip them into a fury that cannot be contained by force alone.’
