“Don’t you think you could lead your clan?”
“No!”
“No?” My eyes met hers. “Why not?”
“As I said, there are many reasons.”
“And the most important reason, I suppose, is that you’re a woman.”
Augusta’s face went almost artificially pale. Without realizing it, she placed her pen right on the snow white paper, the drops of ink immediately stained her letter.
“I am not in the position to question?—”
“But youarein a position to question him.”
“Your majesty?—.”
“You could be the new leader.”
“I was not brought up?—”
“Weren’t you?”
“This conversation is treasonous to the clan, and to my father.”
I stepped closer to the desk, locking my eyes on her.
“Do you understand what’s at stake? Another war would open the gates of your city to the disease. If the clans start fighting, no one wins. Free cities will fall.”
“My father?—”
“Your father ceded his powers to his son, then his son challenged my husband. And lost.”
She remained silent. I could easily tell what she was thinking, but was not bold enough to say. She knew that the white clan would never accept Tynan as the new clan leader. There would be never ending fights that would weaken all the land.
“I understand how difficult it is for you, but the lives of your people are on the line.”
“Your majesty?—”
“The question is how far are you willing to go to save your clan.”
“I will die to protect my people.” In her eyes, I saw fire and determination.
“Your choice is to take what is rightfully yours or let this city burn in endless conflicts,” I finished in a whisper.
“I need to think about it.” She lowered her gaze, playing with the pen.
Black ink stained her fingers but she did nothing to wipe her skin, she just stared at it transfixed.
“One last thing...” I said after I turned away. “It is a privilege to serve your people.” With those words, I pushed the door open.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
FRID
Iburst through the shattered window, the remaining fragments of glass that were still attached to the frame pierced right through my skin. The stars shined so brightly in the sky, as if nothing that happened in the building below was even real. The stench, the violence, was just a part of a wild, distorted dream I could not shake off.
I thought I was going to die. I thought it was the end. My limbs were still shaking. The skin around my neck felt inflamed and raw.
