“He’s not Mael, is he? And you killed everyone who might have been able to prove it, prove that you’ve been raising him for this all his life, not just the last two years.”
“Please… Beliss was an old woman. She was my nanny, you know. That should tell you something of her age. Gralys was an artist. Who knows what she did in her recreational time? And as for Corius … well… Accidents happen. I’m sure anyone can fall down the stairs and break their neck.”
“I know he’s not the real Mael Ventaxis,” Sorrow snapped. “Stop playing games and tell the truth. Who is he?”
Vespus laughed. “And give up one of my great joys? Hearing about your attempts to uncover his true identity has been quite the tonic, Sorrow. So, no, I’m not going to tell you, either way. Think of it as a little insurance for me. I’m the only person on Laethea who knows the truth. Should anything happen to me, it’ll die with me. Could you live, not knowing?”
“I’m willing to find out,” Sorrow snarled.
He laughed, and Sorrow’s fury mounted.
“You’ll slip up,” she warned him. “Sooner or later.”
“Your grandmother didn’t.” Vespus smirked. “And I’m not as bad a liar as Lord Day.”
Sorrow froze.
Vespus leant forward. “Yes, I know. The girl who should have been Sorrow Ventaxis died before she ever took a breath. You really ought to close your windows a little more. It might be hard to prove you’ve been bedding my son, based on the twittering of birds and the word of a lackey, but if we dug up the First Lady’s grave, I would think the bones of the baby buried in there with her would speak loudly enough for everyone. I’ll dig her up myself if it comes to it.”
Chancellor Ventaxis
In that moment Sorrow realized he’d do it all, and more, to win. That he’d been playing this game for so long the idea of losing was unthinkable. No matter the cost, he’d keep rolling the dice until his numbers came up.
“Don’t look so downhearted, my dear,” he said softly. “Say yes, and all of this will go away.”
Sorrow turned to him, mouth slack with despair, hysteria rising inside her. This couldn’t be happening, it couldn’t…
“I will tell no one about you and my son. Or that you are not in any way eligible to run for this election. Or that Lord Day has spent the last thirteen years lying to the entire country and covering for the Dowager First Lady’s crime. In return, when you win tomorrow, you will invite me to stay on as the ambassador. You will, in fact, insist upon it. And then, a few months later, perhaps I will uncover a plot by Bayrum Mizil to overthrow you, and you will reward me by giving me his lands. All of the North Marches.”
“But the people…”
“Sorrow, do you imagine I give a shit about the Rhannish people?” Vespus said. “Have I not made it clear that I don’t care how I get the land, as long as I get it? How it happens, you can decide, if it makes you happier. Make up a disease and quarantine it, offer the people a financial incentive to move. Close down the facilities – schools, hospitals, workplaces – so they have to move. I don’t care.”
Sorrow could only shake her head. She couldn’t do it; she’d promised she’d make things better…
“Perhaps I could sweeten the deal. Throw in my son for you too. Have him return with me, and you could go back to your illicit nights.”
Sorrow gagged.
“He wouldn’t object,” Vespus spat at her. “He’d sooner whore himself for you than do anything else. And you won’t object once he touches you… Like father, like daughter, I expect.”
Sorrow’s blood boiled at his words, both ashamed and furious that he knew how close she’d come to being addicted to the pain relief Rasmus’s touch offered. Now, she decided. Now it was time to play her only card. Now or never. It was all she had.
“I know you brought Lamentia to Rhannon,” she said, fighting to keep her voice steady. “I know it’s what happens when Starwater evaporates. I know it all.”
“You do, do you? Tell me, how did I get Lamentia into the chancellor’s hands, while I was in Rhylla, living a highly visible life at my half-sister’s court, or on my farm?”
“You had an agent,” Sorrow guessed.
Vespus rolled his eyes. “Obviously. Who? Come on, Sorrow… Who arrived in the Winter Palace mere months after I left, at exactly the same time Lamentia appeared… Another clue? Your family killed his, a long time ago, when they made their grab for power. If it wasn’t for you Ventaxises, he might have been a prince, or a duke. One more … he especially hates you, after you locked him away while his wife died.”
Balthasar. Of course it was. He came from nowhere and won her father’s favour almost overnight. With Lamentia. How had she not seen? How had Charon and her grandmother not seen?
“He’s been waiting a long time for his revenge on your family.”
Sorrow locked eyes with Vespus. “I’ll reveal it. I’ll say you made up this lie about me, about my grandmother, because I uncovered the truth about Lamentia. I’ll force Balthasar to testify. Everyone will know it’s your fault the last chancellor died.”
“No one in their right mind is going to begrudge me that, Sorrow,” Vespus sneered. “He was hated. Besides, in order for you to do that, you’d have to admit you knew about Lamentia all along. As did your grandmother. And the Jedenvat. You’d have to confess that you all conspired to cover up the chancellor’s addiction, while the Decorum Ward ran amok and Rhannon crumbled. No one will care where it came from. Or how I managed it, despite being back in Rhylla. They’ll be too busy burning your palaces to the ground and slaughtering the nobility. Again. It’s already begun, hasn’t it? The Sons of Rhannon… Well, they do say we’re all doomed to keep reliving the past.” His smile was slick. Victorious.
She had no choice. The realization was almost freeing, the band around her ribcage loosening. She couldn’t beat him. Even if she fled, he could reveal what he knew and bring Rhannon to its knees. He’d find a way to get the land, one way or the other. He wouldn’t stop. But she might be able to protect her people if she agreed to his terms. She’d be able to shield them a little, at least. And if she stuck close to him, watched him, waited. Bided her time as he had done, she’d find the chink in his armour.
“Well?”
She couldn’t say it. Instead she nodded, a single, damning lowering of the head.
It was good enough for Vespus.
He held out his hand and she shook it.
“Until tomorrow, Chancellor Ventaxis.”
She had no memory of getting back to her rooms. When Irris came to wake her the next morning she found Sorrow sitting on her bed, still wearing the clothes she’d worn the night before.