So what did any of this have to do with a battered and bruised young man chained to a wall in a cell over the border in Avares? Simple: it’s how I figured out why my life was about to become vastly more complicated than I’d ever imagined possible.
Like a brilliant forgery, Filian displayed all the characteristics of the original. He had King Paelis’ slouch – even with his arms being bound high over his head – and you could see some of the King in his eyes, too, if you knew what to look for. Of course, these could easily be dismissed as common enough traits, just as one could ignore the sharp nose and ever-so-slightly jutting jaw. The subtle twitch of his mouth when he spoke, though? That was so much a part of the man I’d known and loved it was impossible for me to ignore.
It’s a trick, I told myself, and I silently repeated the words once, twice, a hundred times until I was almost convinced my eyes were deceiving me. I had to, because if this boy was whom Trin claimed, then everything I had fought for was about to come to ruin.
When I was almost positive it was all a deception, I turned to stare at Trin, chained and roped in her cell, and held her gaze for as long as I could stand to. She’s a masterful liar, perhaps the finest ever to emerge from a class whose very essence is deceit. But discerning truth from falsehood had once been the most important task of my life, and while I’ve been fooled any number of times since I put on the greatcoat, I’m very hard to trick when I know exactly what I’m looking for. I searched Trin’s face for the little things – the subtle tightening around the corners of the mouth, the minuscule tremors in the skin that pass so quickly you’ll miss them if you blink. People make sounds when they’re deceiving you, even when they aren’t speaking: the little grunts and squeaks, the uneven breathing. Kest once read a book that claimed the trained nose could smell a person lying. Whilst I didn’t have that particular ability, I felt sure the author of that book would have taken a long, deep inhale of Trin’s skin and sworn she was telling the truth.
By the time I forced myself to my feet and went to the open door of her cell, I knew I had to stop myself from entering. If I got too close I was afraid I might pull on the rope the Magdan had so kindly left for me and hanged Trin until I felt the last gasp of air leave her body.
‘How did you do it?’ I asked.
She smiled. ‘You should be gratified, Falcio. Wasn’t the grand quest King Paelis set for you to find his . . . what did he call them again? His “Charoites”? Well, now you’ve found one. In fact, you’ve found the brightest gem of the lot.’
‘You’re lying,’ Brasti said, then to me, ‘She’s lying, Falcio. This is just another one of her tricks.’
I ignored him. Whether or not I believed Filian was the son of King Paelis or not was no longer relevant. There were only two questions that mattered now: would the Ducal Council support the boy’s claim over Aline’s, and was I willing to murder him to prevent it?
‘Tell me the rest,’ I said to Trin.
‘The rest?’
‘How did it work? How did you—?’
‘Ah.’ She leaned back against the wall of her cell as far as the rope would allow her. ‘My mother divined the King’s plan, of course. He was, after all, a very clever man, and he knew that any woman he chose to marry would meet with an accident sooner or later, as would any child she bore. So he . . . how shall we say? He spread his lineage across a number of noble households, thanks to a number of especially patriotic ladies.’
‘And their husbands?’ Kest asked.
‘Most of the noblewomen involved were recently widowed, so the child could conceivably be the late husband’s get, as long as no one looked too closely. As to the rest? Well, I never understood it, but Paelis did always inspire rather excessive loyalty in some of his subjects.’
There was a question burning in the back of my mind – it had been there since the day I’d finally figured out who Aline was. To ask it would be to reveal a weakness to my enemy, but I couldn’t hold it back. ‘Why didn’t he tell the Greatcoats?’
Trin laughed. ‘Why didn’t he tell you, you mean? I asked Mother the same question. At first she thought he must have told you – that the lot of you were simply keeping his secret. But after she interrogated you in Rijou, she realised you really didn’t know, and she quickly worked out why Paelis had kept the Greatcoats in ignorance.’
I reached out for the rope that hung around her slender neck. ‘Tell me.’
She didn’t sound at all scared; if anything, her expression was pitying. ‘It was because of you, Falcio. The King couldn’t tell you because he was ashamed of what you would think of him. You always wanted him to be so noble, so perfect – and yet here he was, using his position of power to have his way with women for no better purpose than to preserve his own line. Oh, they were willing, I’ve no doubt, but really, how consensual can it be when it is a King doing the asking?’
This I refused to believe; this part of her story was a lie meant to make me question Paelis, question myself. ‘He – and they – did what was necessary to protect the country from your mother.’
‘Tell yourself that if it helps,’ she said sweetly. ‘All of this must be terribly hard on you – I promise you, it was difficult for my mother as well. She went to no end of trouble trying to figure out who the eldest child must be.’
‘To kill him?’ Kest asked.
She shook her head, making the rope sway. ‘No, to save his life. My mother wasn’t the only noble trying to discover the King’s plan. A number of the Dukes were also working on ferreting out these secret heirs.’
‘Which Dukes?’ I asked.
‘Issault of Aramor certainly suspected,’ Trin replied, ‘although he was too fat and lazy to do anything about it. Duchess Ossia of Baern. My father, of course.’
Trin must have seen something in my expression. ‘Jillard would have killed them all, Falcio: every single one.’
‘Duchess Patriana beat him to it,’ Kest said.
‘Oh no, Mother was far cleverer than that. She wanted to find them and force Paelis to acknowledge them publicly, to reveal his fickle, feckless nature, and in so doing, she intended to extract certain promises from him over Ducal rights.’
‘Such as rolling back the King’s Laws?’ I asked. ‘Eliminating the Greatcoats entirely?’
‘Oh, we’re not against all laws; I’m sure we’ll keep a few around. In fact, magistrates can be useful, as long as their conduct is suited to the practical needs of a nation. You aren’t a bad man, Falcio – even my mother knew that. It’s just that your more extreme ideas about justice represent a luxury that none of us can afford.’
I let that slide, knowing she was only trying to anger me – that had always been the first step in her manipulations. Damn, but it was hard not to kill her then and there.
‘There’s a flaw in this story of yours,’ Kest said. ‘Your mother tried to put you on the throne, not this boy.’
Filian spoke up for the first time. ‘I’m no boy, sir. I’ll thank you to—’
‘Shut up, boy,’ Brasti said.