State of Sorrow (Untitled #1)(74)

“We still have no proof that Mael is an imposter. All we know for certain is that Vespus commissioned the portraits, and, in the early days, had someone model for them. We don’t know who the model was, Xalys never saw him. He might not even have been Rhannish – it could have been Rasmus, did you think of that? Perhaps the reason Xalys had to stay away was so she didn’t meet her brother.”

“But—”

“But nothing, Sorrow. It’s confirmed our suspicions, and raised a lot more questions. That’s all.”

A lump formed in Sorrow’s throat and she swallowed, forcing it down to say, “So finding the artist was pointless, despite everything she said.”

Luvian wrinkled his nose. “It depends on what the point is. If it was finally proving Mael is an imposter, yes, it was pointless. But what it proves is that Vespus has been behind the portraits from the beginning. He ordered them five years before he became the ambassador. And he clearly wanted it to remain a secret. Why?”

“I don’t know. Because he’s an evil puppet master who likes to toy with people?”

“Exactly,” Luvian said, to her surprise. She was being facetious. “A puppet master, pulling the strings. So we need to know what strings he holds. Understanding that will lead us back to Mael, or whoever he is. We know Vespus is the queen’s half-brother, and that he owns an Alvus tree farm in the north of Rhylla. That he was the ambassador in Rhannon for seven years—”

“Until he was banished for trying to manipulate my father into granting him land in Rhannon,” Sorrow added. “He first went after it during the war, trying to convince his half-sister to not sign the treaty unless the North Marches was granted to him. Charon said it was something to do with the conditions in the north of Rhannon, and the south of Rhylla being the best place for Alvus to grow. He needs the land there for it.”

“But Melisia wouldn’t give it to him. Either in Rhylla, or Rhannon. That sounds like Melisia doesn’t care if her brother’s business fails.”

“I suppose.”

“Which means she doesn’t support it, for whatever reason.” Luvian twisted round and made another note on his papers. “So he tried to prolong the war, and was denied. Next, he asked his sister for the ambassador’s job, and started working on Harun, who eventually sent him away because of it.”

“And in the meantime, he’d already started grooming a boy to be Mael, and Rhannon to accept him through the portraits, as another backup,” Sorrow said.

Luvian nodded, then frowned. “This is a huge amount of effort to go to just to get some land to grow trees on. He’s a lord – half-brother to a queen.”

“Maybe that’s it. It’s pride. Something only he can do, with his ability. Maybe he wants to be seen as special, or worthy in his own right. The only person in the world who can grow Alvus trees?”

Luvian shook his head. “It seems a remarkably unambitious goal for someone like Vespus. Get some land, be a great farmer… And like I said, so much work. Eighteen years of scheming and planning.”

“Charon said it wouldn’t just be land. It would be all of Rhannon. If he put a puppet ruler in charge, he could rule Rhannon through them, as his sister rules Rhylla,” Sorrow finished for him. “Maybe that’s his plan. He wants to play at being king, make himself Melisia’s equal.”

“Maybe,” Luvian said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

Sorrow was suddenly exhausted, too many thoughts in her mind. She lay back on Luvian’s bed, and sighed. She hadn’t expected it to be easy to unravel the mystery of Mael, but all their leads so far – Corius the tailor, long dead; the mysterious painter – had led to nothing but more doubts. There was no sign of the woman who’d supposedly raised Mael. The only solid thing they had was Vespus being in the background, pulling the strings, weaving his web. That was a problem, and one she planned on dealing with.

But still, she wanted, needed, to know whether or not the boy was a fake. She had to know one way or the other. She’d been on the bridge, seen the Archior, and she knew logically he couldn’t be, but as long as there was the tiniest doubt in her mind, she’d never rest.

All those times he’d smiled at her, defended her. He’d tried to make Harun apologize to her. He’d offered to sacrifice himself to the Sons of Rhannon so she could get away.

He believed he was her brother. He wanted to be.

And in the darkest, most secret part of her heart, buried so deeply she could barely acknowledge it, she realized she no longer hated the idea of it.

Even though she knew it was impossible, even though he was trying to take her job, and her home, and Rhannon from her…

Because if he was her brother, then she wasn’t alone.

But she couldn’t let him in until she knew for sure.

She couldn’t do anything until she knew for sure. So she had to find out who he really was.

“What’s the plan, then?” she asked.

“Focus on ‘election stuff’.”

Sorrow heard the smile in his voice and reached for one of his pillows, throwing it at him.

“Concentrate on wooing everyone at the Naming, and then channel that into efforts in Rhannon.” The pillow landed back beside her head, and Sorrow tucked it beneath her.

“And what will you be doing?”