“How so?”
“The way he clears the fog away.” As Anton leaned closer, I tried to elaborate. “The people subject themselves to harsh rule and unrelenting taxation because they’ve been conditioned to believe the gods sanctioned one man to lord over them, as well as those of noble birth. But Tosya takes the faith of the people and turns it in their favor. He portrays the gods as loving of all of Riaznin’s children equally. Gods who mourn that we cannot see ourselves the way they do.”
“And this you gleaned after reading one book?”
“I’d had some of these thoughts, but Tosya distilled them for me.”
“What do you think the common people would do if they felt as you did?”
I considered the prince. “They would likely demand new rights.”
“What rights would you give them?”
This was beginning to feel like a test. Somehow that didn’t bother me. I was too zealous about the subject. “Equal privileges and punishments among the nobles and peasants. Equal taxation. The freedom to choose how to lead one’s own life, so long as it doesn’t infringe on someone else’s liberty to do the same.”
Anton rested his elbows on his knees. “What about the right to self-govern?”
My lips parted. For a long moment I couldn’t say anything. The breeze rattled the windowpanes. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Shouldn’t equality mean the people have a right to collaborate on who rules them? If they can vote, they have a voice. They could even choose to campaign for leadership.”
An ache flowered in my temple. I rubbed it, hoping to also wipe away my confusion. “But you should lead—as emperor. The people would follow you. They wouldn’t need to cast a vote about it.”
Anton tilted his head. “What if I did lead? What if I even granted the people the rights you spoke of? Could I ensure that my eldest son would uphold the new law when his time came to rule? What about his son?”
“You can’t give the government to the people!” I rose to my feet and stepped away from him. “Commoners and nobles drawing up laws together? Working side by side to enforce them? It’s preposterous! Unheard of!” Is this what he and his friends had been plotting all this time? What part did he expect me to play in it? I’d hoped the prince somehow meant to usurp his brother. But this? This was an impossible scheme of madness.
Anton stood and planted himself in my path. “Why is it such a radical idea? Why should one man decide the fate of so many? How could he understand them all? He would need your abilities, but to feel the auras of hundreds of thousand people would drive a person insane. Ruling them without that insight is enough to do so. Look at Valko.”
I rubbed the pain in my temple and twisted away from the prince. He took my arm and pulled me back. “Talk to me, Sonya.”
I shook my head, panic overwhelming me. “You won’t listen! You and your brother both have your wild visions, and neither one of you will listen to me.”
“I will. I’m listening now. Tell me why this won’t work.”
I swallowed as I remembered the fury of all the auras in Ormina, the mob of starving peasants rallying against the convent gates. “I’ve felt what the wrath of injustice does to a people,” I said. “And when they learn how deeply they’ve been wronged, and then are given the reins of such power—such shared dominion . . . Anton, it will be a massacre! They’ll seek to destroy everyone who has ever oppressed them.” I pressed a hand to my stomach, imagining what that kind of energy would do to me—to those I loved. “I don’t see how this can come about peaceably. Change on that scale will mean war—among ourselves. Can you really condone that when one great man”—I looked at him beseechingly—“could carefully nudge them in a better direction? Perhaps in a century we would be prepared for a ‘people’s government.’”
Anton smiled—actually smiled—after all I’d just told him. “Would it surprise you to know I share your same concerns?” he asked. “Do you realize I’m a pacifist? Sonya, I don’t wish death on anyone in order to bring this revolution about, not even my brother. And you are right that too much change, too fast, would result in chaos. I daresay the noble lords aren’t, at present, willing to let the serfs earn their portion of the land. But if every man and woman, rich or poor, had a voice—a representative—surely we could bridge to equality over time. One thing, however, is certain: We can’t postpone this new government. If we leave the empire in Valko’s hands, there may be no Riaznin left to unite. He will bring war in his fixation to expand. He’ll have us slaughtered by the tens of thousands until no one is exempt from his draft, and his dream of glory is nothing more than a wasteland covered with bones and ash.”