“We can’t stay, Dreus. Not without competing in the Trials.”
“No. There has to be a way,” Andreus said, pacing the room. “This is our home. Father would have wanted one or both of us to lead Eden—the way he did.”
“The way he did?” A bitter laugh ripped out of her. “Father didn’t rule. He did what he wanted and didn’t care if innocent people were caught in the middle. He didn’t bother to learn about the laws because he was the law. But now he’s gone and we’re stuck with laws he never troubled himself to learn about. Now that Lady Imogen has revealed them . . .”
“This isn’t Imogen’s fault,” Andreus snapped. “If it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. The Council of Elders would have made Garret King and who knows where we’d be. She put herself on the line and saved me.”
“Us,” Carys said, looking hard at her brother. “She saved us.” She and Andreus were a team. The fact that he hadn’t automatically thought of both of them shifted the only foundation she had. Especially after he chose Imogen over Carys two nights ago.
“That’s what I meant,” Andreus said.
Carys wished that were true and knew she could not push her doubts about the seer or her brother would stop listening. Carefully, she said, “I’m grateful Imogen intervened, but the truth is we don’t know what her motives are or why she’s given the Council leave to create these trials. There are only so many options in front of us.”
“And most of them aren’t options.” Andreus raked a hand through his dark hair and stalked to the corner as Carys thought through their choices.
“Then there’s only one thing we can do,” Carys said. They couldn’t escape the castle with their mother and there was no way the Council of Elders would allow them to live if Garret were crowned. “We’re going to cheat.”
10
“Cheat?” Andreus threw up his hands and stalked across the room. “How in the world do you intend to cheat the Council?”
“They decide the Trials we have to face, but we decide the winner.”
Andreus turned. “What?”
Carys smiled. “We cheat. According to the law, the Council of Elders has to create the Trials. We have to participate in them. The winner gets the throne. But nowhere in there does it say we actually have to compete for real. If we decide who the winner is before the Trials start, we can take control of everything. That will limit the stress on you and the time the Trials take since we can make sure one of us wins most everything.”
“Most?”
“No one will believe the Trials are real if only one of us wins every contest,” Carys said with a burst of energy. The more she spoke the faster the words tripped over each other. “We’ll make the contest look real so the Council cannot protest the results.”
“But we’ll still have to compete in public,” he said. “You know what will happen if I have an attack.”
Everyone would see that he was cursed and both he and his sister would pay the price.
“Dreus . . .”
“You should win the Trials,” he said, remembering all the times he said he didn’t want to rule. That he was glad not to be the Crown Prince. “Honestly, Carys. It should be you. You’ve studied the guards more than I have.” She’d had to in order to help him. “You’re better at anticipating the intrigue of the Council of Elders and the High Lords.” Even if it meant stepping in front of whatever trouble was coming to keep him safe.
How many beatings had she taken in order to keep his curse hidden? She’d suffered for him. She should be rewarded. And he would spend his life hiding behind his sister.
His sister who he had seen drink from the familiar red bottle and whose hand was trembling on his arm.
His sister laid that shaking hand on his face so he couldn’t look away.
“Andreus, you care about the people in the city. And they love you for it. They see your good works. Look at what you did for Max. He’s alive because of you.” A fierce light shined from Carys’s eyes as she insisted, “None of that sounds like a person who’s been cursed. We both have flaws. We both have strengths.”
Two halves of the same whole. That’s what their nurse used to say.
“Neither of us will be able to rule without help from people we trust.”
For the first time, he allowed himself to think about what it would be like to sit on the throne. To have people notice what he did. To make changes without having to beg anyone to listen to his ideas. He could help more kids like Max—and help everyone understand that being sick didn’t mean being cursed.
“Andreus, what do you want?”
“I don’t know.” He pushed past her and wished they weren’t in such an enclosed space. It felt bigger when they were little. Now the walls were too close together for him to think. His heart was pounding hard and he couldn’t tell if it was excitement, nerves, or the curse. “I’m scared to even consider wanting the crown.”
But he was considering it. Gods. If he was being honest, he’d always wanted it. He’d just pretended that he didn’t. Why wage a war for something that could never be won?
Now it could. The throne could be within his grasp and he wasn’t sure if he should take it.
In the shadows, he asked the question that he’d never had the courage to voice before. “Carys. What if I am . . . cursed?” Always he’d denied the seers’ magical powers. The wind blew with or without them. The orb glowed bright because of the Masters of Light. But Imogen believed. She believed with her whole heart that she could call the winds. He’d wanted the seers to be powerless. If he believed otherwise . . . “What if by taking the throne I destroy the kingdom and everyone in it?”
Fabric rustled and he felt his sister’s hand on his back. “Have you ever considered that your fear of having your secret exposed could be the real curse? People make terrible choices out of fear of losing what they hold dear. Kings wage war and slaughter their subjects to keep their power. The Council of Elders would send us to the North Tower and see our heads displayed at the entrance of the castle steps in order to keep their authority. And you—you might turn away from ruling and making choices that might help the kingdom thrive. That fear could be what shatters the orb.”
“Or it could cause an attack in the Hall of Virtues, the kingdom could be told of the old seer’s prediction, and a war could be waged to remove me from power.”
“It could,” she agreed, and Andreus stalked away.
“So that decides it, then,” he said with the taste of disappointment and frustration bitter on his tongue. Carys was being honest. He couldn’t fault her for that.
But he did.