Endless darkness. Thundering storms. Oppressive laws, leering courtiers, temples worshipping fire and lineage. Instead, she’d grown up with the warmth of golden sunlight on her skin, water splashing through lush green forests, laughter, music, and love.
As Theron rounded a corner, she took a shaky breath and trudged after him. She tried to confess she’d never thought of it like that, but he cut her off.
“I’ve been assessing you as we walked here, and to be honest, Kalista, I’m not sure what to make of it all.”
“Oh? What’s yourassessmentof me?”
Stopping at a pair of rosewood doors, Theron pursed his lips. “I’m wondering why you haven’t asked about our uncle.”
Kalie’s breath caught. “Uncle Jerran? Do you have news?”
“You don’t know, do you?” He rubbed his eyes. “Of course you wouldn’t know. You just got here.”
Her skin prickled as Theron dismissed the guards, opened the doors, and led her inside.
The sight of the dark sitting room added to the unease twisting in her stomach. Kalie yanked open a pair of burgundy curtains, desperate to feel something good. Artificial sunlight flooded into the living area, shining on overstuffed couches and armchairs, and Theron motioned for her to sit.
“Before I say anything, I want you to remember our uncle’s still alive.” Theron’s low voice sent chills up Kalie’s spine. “Lexington charged him with treason, and the Tribunal held a sham trial this morning. He’s been sentenced to life on Titan.”
The world slid out from under Kalie. Gasping, she pressed a hand to her heart. It was a good thing she was sitting, or the thought of her frail, dignified uncle bleeding on the floor of the moon’s filthy prison would’ve made her crumple to the floor. Life in prison was not a mercy. No, Iliana would make sure he suffered, the way she had surely suffered.
“On what grounds?” she whispered.
Theron met her gaze unblinkingly. “She claims he murdered Grandmother Madeleine.”
“That’s absurd. Madeleine killed herself at Ashton. Witnesses saw it.”
She’d been a terrible ruler and a worse mother, but Madeleine was Uncle Jerran’s sister. He wasn’t capable of killing her.
Then again, she hadn’t thought him capable of imprisoning one of his nieces.
“Is it really that hard to believe?”
“You’re actually buying this trash?”
Theron shrugged. “Madeleine refused to support him for Major Governor, and it angered him so much that he declared war on her. Think about it. He’s obviously a good ruler, but he was passed over for the throne when our grandmother was born. The war killed his wife and son. After all that, don’t you think it’s possible he killed her to end it?”
“No. I know Uncle Jerran, and there’s no way that’s true.”
“One of your nobles claims he was there. Count Hewlett.”
“Perseus Hewlett is a lying snake. He was involved in Iliana’s coup, of course he’ll support her lies.”
But maybe they weren’t lies.
Kalie shuddered. Hewlett’s star had risen far higher than it ever should’ve—so high, that a man who was once a lowly baron from a crumbling house was now the second most powerful man on the planet. Uncle Jerran had made that happen. And though he now bemoaned Hewlett’s rise, he’d done nothing to stop it.
Theron arched his eyebrows.
Setting aside her unease, Kalie shook her head. “Someone will appeal the ruling to the Collectivate. The government is loyal to Uncle Jerran. She won’t be able to pin Madeleine’s murder on him.”
“Maybe not.” Theron straightened his cufflinks. “But he’s charged with twocounts of treason. One for Madeleine’s murder, and one for Calida’s.”
Scoffing, Kalie rose to her feet and stepped into the sunlight. “I knew you were a cold-hearted schemer, but I thought you at least had a brain.”
“They published evidence of a bank transfer tying him to a mercenary,” he said coolly, “and the man confessed to sending the drone strike. Jerran wasn’t at Pool’s rally. Don’t you think it’s strange that his engine conveniently died on the way to the most important event of the decade? He probably got sick of answering to Calida?—”
“Don’t be ridiculous?—”
