“I don’t believe you.”
He was right. Kyra wasn’t as na?ve as she used to be. She knew more about the city now and its workings. James had wanted to bring down the entire Council. She wasn’t sure what he’d had in mind after that. Anarchy? Establishing himself in power? He hadn’t seen fit to share his plans with her, and Kyra suspected she wouldn’t have agreed with them. But neither was she happy with the way things were.
“Willem’s got to go. It’s not enough simply to stop the Demon Rider offensive. I want him out of power.”
Tristam was silent for a long moment before he finally spoke again. “I’ll help you in any way I can.”
He’d spoken so calmly that it took a while for Kyra to recognize the implications. But when they finally sank in, she looked to him in alarm. “Tristam, this is high treason. You’ve been working so hard to get back to good standing in the Palace, and you’ve got your marriage negotiations to think about.” He’d given up so much for her already.
Tristam stared at the dust swirling in front of them. “You know, before I met you, I never gave much thought to my station in life. I knew I was fortunate, but I didn’t really know what it meant. But I have to think now that my good fortune comes with some measure of responsibility, whether it be taking up arms to protect the lowborn or trying to make changes where we can.” He paused then. “I suppose we all have to make our choices. This is mine.”
It was the type of decision that should have been announced with trumpets and rousing speeches, but instead it was just the two of them hiding in the mouth of a cave, bruised, dirty, and exhausted.
“I won’t stop you,” said Kyra. “But if you have doubts at any point, you need to tell me.”
“What next, then?”
She looked up at him, and their eyes met briefly. It seemed she was always looking at the space between the two of them. Measuring it, wishing she could bridge it. “James told me once that Willem must be disgraced before he’s brought down. I think he’s right. We need to discredit him.”
“Orvin’s mystery messenger, then?” said Tristam.
Kyra nodded. “We’ll need to think how best to do it. Flick might be able to help. He’s good at flipping pockets.” She started going through the possibilities in her head, but her mind wouldn’t cooperate. Too much had happened in too short of a time. She wasn’t ready to get back on the warpath just yet. “We’ll make plans, but can you give me a moment? I can’t think straight.”
He looked her over again, and there was a softness in his gaze when he nodded. She leaned her head against the cave wall and closed her eyes. She’d only meant to rest a little, but a while later, she was groggily aware of him laying her down on the cave floor and tucking his cloak around her. She reached out and took his hand. His grip felt so comfortable, so solid. And yet, there was caution in his manner that hadn’t been there the night before.
“Tristam,” she said. “It’s not just Cecile that stands between us, is it? Even if I were higher-born, it wouldn’t matter. You’re scared of what I am.”
He didn’t answer right away, and his hesitation spoke more than any words he might have said. For a moment she could see it in his eyes, his lingering fear and mistrust of the Demon Riders, something he’d done an admirable job of hiding from her but was nonetheless still there. Kyra looked down, trying to ignore the tightness that had arisen in her chest. “I’m not completely blameless in Santon’s death. I hoped he would attack me, and I pretended to be vulnerable so they’d give me the excuse I needed. Part of me liked tearing Santon apart. I’m not proud of it, but I won’t hide it from you. I owe you that much.”