‘The problem, sire,’ Alator continues carefully, ‘is that so far the king’s actions have all been … open to interpretation.’
‘Open to interpretation?’ Hal’s voice is ice. ‘My uncle saw his fellow Council members lying dead around him and showed not a shred of remorse.’
A second adviser says, ‘Everyone in that chamber was in shock, sire, including you. You had just watched your father –’
Hal ignores her. ‘He attacked Blaze Harglade. He –’
A new voice cuts in, cold and rasping. ‘You would take the word of the Storm Weaver over that of your own uncle?’
Hal turns to the man standing on his left. He’s ancient-looking, with a long beard and stiff, twisted fingers.
‘I served as adviser to your grandfather, sire, and your father after that. I’ve known King Balen since he was a boy.’
Hal grits his teeth. ‘You’ve known me since I was a boy too, Kalf. Forgive me for thinking you might trust my judgement.’
‘Not,’ says Kalf, ‘when your judgement is compromised. We are all aware of your …relationshipwith the Harglade girl.’
For a moment I think Hal might hit him. ‘Blaze hasnothingto do with –’
‘Many believe she was involved in your half-brother’s plot to kill the Council,’ says Alator, his gold teeth flashing.
I purse my lips in protest. Of course they’ve selected Blaze as their scapegoat. It’s hardly surprising. To many, she’s been a villain since the day she was born.
Hal shakes his head. ‘Impossible.’
‘Sire.’ Kalf places a gnarled hand on Hal’s shoulder. ‘Rumours about the Storm Weaver have been circulating. She is already feared by the people, fears that have only intensified since it was announced that she has been Chosen for your Council.’
‘Because shewon,’ Hal almost shouts. ‘She won the Aquatori crown fair and square. What was I supposed to do? Not let her compete? The actions of my half-brother, I can’t excuse. Him I am not defending. But Blaze? She’s done nothing wrong. I trust her. Implicitly.’
Kalf sighs. ‘The problem is, sire, the people don’t. And I can’t say I blame them. Who would put their faith in the Storm Weaver, a girl who has brought pain and suffering to so many, rather than King Balen – the late emperor’s brother, a son of the Imperial House of Castellion, and an exemplary monarch beloved by his people?’
Hal shrugs off Kalf’s hand from where it still rests on his shoulder. ‘Then explain to me why myexemplary,beloveduncle tried to kill Blaze at the funeral of her aunt, Queen Yvainne? It was nothing other than an act of war.’
‘Or an act of vengeance,’ counters Kalf. ‘Many view the attack on Fire Mountain as King Balen seeking justice for the deaths of your father and the three queens. That it was his wish to apprehend the Storm Weaver and force her to stand trial for her crimes.’
Hal opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. I bite the inside of my cheek and swallow the objections that gather on my tongue.
Alator leans forward once more. ‘You understand, sire, how delicate this situation is. If you continue to throw your support behind Blaze Harglade, many of your subjects will turn their allegiance to your uncle. Yet if you condemn her now, after publicly vouching for her innocence, you will appear naive and indecisive.’
‘Precisely,’ says Kalf. ‘Which is why it is imperative we call a parley. You must listen to what your uncle has to say. You must hear what he wants.’
‘I know what he wants, Kalf,’ Hal growls. ‘He wants to be emperor.’
‘Ridiculous,’ another adviser mutters impertinently from the back of the group. ‘King Balen is a second son. He is Ventalla. He doesn’t have the gift of light. The emperors of Ostacre are Light Wielders, descended from the Maker himself.’
‘Which is why I know he doesn’t intend to kill me in order to take the throne. He’ll complete the Ceremony,binding himself not only to my Council but to me. To my magic.’
The silence that follows stretches taut.
Kalf breaks it, and the words that leave his mouth are unforgivable. ‘Perhaps that is not such a bad idea.’
Hal’s eyes burn black. ‘What did you say?’
‘I meant, sire, that perhaps you should consider allowing your uncle to become regent until you are ready to take the throne yourself. I am not alone in having observed the toll your new position is taking on you, and all without even being crowned yet.’
My hands shake with anger. To my horror, a single wisp of shadow begins to twine itself round my finger. I stuff my hand behind my back, heart racing.
Eventually Hal finds his voice. ‘Whose side are you on?’
