The controlled way his sister spoke was the essence of temperance. Concerned, Andreus glanced at the Council, who were watching Carys intently as the boy on the white stone floor explained, “A man said there would be food here. He told me I could come. So, I did because I was hungry, Your Highness.”
Andreus could see some in the crowd shift with impatience, but there were others who clearly believed the boy’s simple declaration and felt sorry for him.
Carys frowned and whirled toward Captain Monteros, her voice louder as she demanded, “Captain, how is it this boy was allowed into the castle, let alone the Hall of Virtues?”
Captain Monteros stared at Carys. “He must have snuck past the guards at the gate, Your Highness, and—”
“How many guards did you post at the entrance?”
“Dozens, Your Highness.”
“And they all are aware that my brother, their prince, was attacked by an assassin on the tournament grounds?”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
“And yet this boy, who looks as if he hasn’t bathed in weeks and hasn’t eaten a real meal in at least as long, managed to gain access to the castle, wander dozens of corridors to reach the Hall of Virtues, and venture inside without any of the castle guard seeing him?”
A gasp went through the crowd as the significance of Carys’s words became apparent. Captain Monteros’s eyes shifted behind Carys to the Elders.
She didn’t wait for his answer. The bottom of her dress rippled and tendrils of hair blew around her face as she spun to face the Council. “If the guards Captain Monteros trained cannot be trusted to keep Varn and others who are uninvited out, how can I trust the word of the one who spoke against this boy tonight?”
“Are you saying the boy is innocent?” Elder Cestrum asked.
The room held their breath as Carys said, “Did I say that, my lord, or are you putting words in my mouth? Perhaps my maid can get you a dress to wear so you can just pretend to be me.”
Carys’s angry words made everyone in the room mumble—with surprise or disapproval, which Andreus could not tell. The Chief Elder’s eyes narrowed. If he wasn’t angry with his twin, Andreus would have applauded the insult. As it was, he was glad for the lack of control she was currently displaying. Certainly, a loose tongue was the opposite of temperance. Her words were coming faster and faster, and he could see the way she trembled. Most people would think it was because she was so upset, but he knew better. He recognized the signs of the Tears of Midnight losing effectiveness.
“You wish to know what I think?” His sister turned back to look at the boy, who appeared more terrified than when this began. “I believe there are many in this room and this castle who are to blame. This boy is but one of them. And it would be unjust to punish one without punishing them all. A week in the stockades in the center of Garden City for the guards who failed in their duty will make sure they don’t do so again. As for the boy—since there was no one concerned enough to tell him he could not enter the castle, my verdict is that he is to go free.”
The guard members standing behind Captain Monteros exchanged nervous glances.
The youth started to scramble to his feet, but Captain Monteros grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down. “I don’t believe you are done yet, boy,” Captain Monteros said, standing over him. “Prince Andreus has yet to give his verdict on what your punishment should be.”
Elder Cestrum nodded. “Yes. Prince Andreus. Your sister has given us a fascinating view of what her reign as Queen would look like. Publically punishing the guard is a . . . unique choice. Now the Elders and the court here in the Hall of Virtues would like to hear from you. What ruling would you give this young man for his crimes?”
All eyes turned to Andreus. He pretended not to feel the weight of their expectation as he studied Varn huddled on the floor. Andreus had no doubt as to how the boy got in the castle. After his discussion with Elder Jacobs, Andreus was sure that this “theft” was designed by the Council as part of the Trials. The boy was here because the Council wanted him here. The guards let him through because that had been their orders. Did the boy cut the purse Captain Monteros was holding off a lord’s belt? The boy had no knife that Andreus could see. If he had one, surely the guards would have taken it and shown it as another sign of the boy’s guilt.
His sister was right to say the boy should be set free, at the very least given a minimal punishment for this “crime.” But Andreus knew that was not the ruling the Council wanted—not the ruling he was supposed to give. Not if he wanted to convince them that he was strong enough to set aside his desire for approval and do what the kingdom needed. That he could draw a line in the sand that others knew could never be crossed without serious retribution.
Micah used to say their uncle had been right to want to lead a force decades ago against Adderton for their sheltering and support of the living members of the Bastians. Their uncle claimed King Ulron was weak for not hunting the last of them. He said strong men removed the head of a snake if they truly wished to ensure its death.
Instead of striking down Adderton and the Bastians, their father ordered the guards to seize their uncle for what he claimed was a plot against the crown. Not long after, Father took the advice offered by his brother and removed the snake’s head. No one after that dared to call King Ulron weak.
Now the Council was looking for that same strength—from him. As long as Andreus could convince Elder Jacobs and the rest that he was his father’s son, the crown would be his. His sister’s bid to bring the Council to her side would fail. Imogen would be his Queen and Carys would accept her new place in his life—or he would deal with that, too.
But first he had to cut the head off this snake.
“I understand my sister’s desire for mercy. It is only human to be swayed by a tale of hunger and a sad face. A strong ruler cannot act out of pity, but must instead think of the law.” Andreus glanced down at the boy—Varn—whose defiant pose was gone now. Instead, he seemed to be pleading for help with his eyes.
Andreus’s resolve trembled like the innocent boy in front of him. He thought of Max and for a moment wondered if Varn and Max could have known each other on the streets of Garden City. What would Max think after hearing that Andreus had passed judgment on a boy who was in essence just like him? Would he still believe Andreus was his hero?
Andreus pulled his gaze up and found Imogen standing not far behind the boy in the crowd. To keep her safe, he must be King. To be King, he must prove to the Council he was strong. What was one life when compared to all the others he would help as King? One life against hundreds of thousands.