Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords #3)(70)

I stop in front of Jovan. “Is it all just a convenient inconvenience?” I ask softly. There are murmurs from the others. Some may understand what I’m talking about; most won’t.

I resume my walk around the stone table. “I may have thought so, if I didn’t catch someone lying in this very room.”

That shuts them up.

“I know who this person is. The king and I have known for quite some time. As you know, Solati pride themselves on revealing true meaning in conversation. It is a game to us, but also a way of life. Slight movements, repetitions, and changes in voice can tell us many things.” I turn to face them. “I knew there was a traitor amongst you as soon as the lie was spoken, weeks ago, but King Jovan rightfully requested I supply proof before he condemned this person. I have that evidence today.”

I hope Jovan plays along. If I have my way, his advisors will never know how stubborn he was.

I stand in the middle and peer around them all, even though I can’t see the men’s faces. Each of them feels threatened.

“On that day, when one of you lied to your king, I came to realize the question we should have been asking all along.” I look straight at the very still, and possibly very angry Jovan, and ask him my question.

“Who has been planning to usurp the king?”

The uproar from my question is tumultuous.

“You can’t come in here and point fingers!” Drummond blurts. “Who do you think you are?”

I step up to him. “I am the Tatuma of Osolis.” I keep my voice calm. “I was invited to this council, and as such, can offer my opinions. Unless you have a certain reason for wanting me to stop now?”

He splutters in response, but can’t say anything or risk worsening his position.

“What have you got to lose?” I ask them, sweeping around, palms up. “If I’m wrong, I’m wrong. But if I’m right and there’s a traitor in your midst…” I straighten. “That is something the council must know.” I turn to Olandon. “Brother, please escort the witnesses in.”

“This is absolutely ludicrous,” Blaine says. I listen carefully to see who agrees with him—only Gerden. I’m glad Blaine’s reach isn’t further entrenched.

“Please, do try to bear with me, Blaine,” I say sweetly.

The advisors know who the accused is as soon as they see the first two witnesses: Blaine’s wife and his brother-in-law step into the chamber, followed by an otherwise random group.

I call loudly over the fever-pitched noise, feeling like I’ve waited one hundred revolutions for this moment. I’ve detested this man since I first met him. This is long overdue.

“Blaine, I accuse you of the intention to usurp King Jovan.”





Chapter Sixteen


“Silence!” roars Jovan in the immediate aftermath. I make sure Olandon is tensed and ready to intervene if Blaine tries to run. But he doesn’t. He’s too busy sitting in shock, staring at Alzona.

“Charity?” Blaine says hoarsely. I frown and look at the row of witnesses.

“Hello, Father,” Alzona says with disgust. A few choking noises sound behind me. Alzona’s name is Charity? I plan to join Ice and Shard in uproarious laughter when all of this is over. If I’m still alive.

I continue over the shocked murmurs. “We will get to the witnesses of the actual crimes. But first, in digging into Blaine’s history I have found some … interesting, should we say, skeletons?” I ask him. The skeleton of his first wife, for starters.

“You would use my own daughter against me?” Blaine asks. A few of the advisors gasp, yet to make the connection.

“You’ll get a chance to defend yourself,” Jovan says, silencing him.

“Alzona, will you please repeat what you told me?” I step aside as she takes the attention. I try to regain some semblance of calm as she speaks, detailing the regular beatings and the brutal killing of her mother, and then telling how she preferred life in the Outer Rings to an abusive yet privileged life in the assembly. Her retelling is just as shocking the second time around. But I’m more interested to see how Blaine will react.

How much has Charity’s appearance startled him?

“Her mother was killed by criminals. Something I’ve tried very hard to put behind me. You’d condemn me based on the memories of an eleven-year-old?” he scoffs.

“Not at all,” I say mildly. I’d expected him to try and say Alzona wasn’t his child, but his initial reaction foiled that defense.

“Macy?” I say over my shoulder. I lead her to the chair. She’s shaking so much I fear she’ll fall over.

“Macy, how long have you been married to Blaine?” I ask.

“F-fifteen years,” she says.

“And how many years has he been beating you?” I ask. There are hushed whispers from the advisors. Maybe even the other witnesses.

“Fourteen,” she says, eyes screwed shut. Someone gasps loudly.

“How badly?” I ask.

“Never the face. He didn’t want anyone to see. Mainly the stomach and back, and the legs,” she whispers. “I’ve miscarried four times.” Angry noise rises up from around the room. My own eyes widen at her admission.

“Please tell us what you know of Blaine’s recent dealings,” I ask.