“What changes would you suggest for Arts Culinaires?”
A suspiciously easy question. “I would increase access to education,” she replied, whipping the cream that surely didn’t belong with canelés, but maybe Hector had a plan. “With it, the Restes Quarter could see better opportunities beyond backbreaking labor.”
“Honorable jobs,” Lafontaine replied.
“Then I would love to see you try them, Souverain.”
The audience gasped, reminding her this was very much a public interview, and she was likely no longer their favorite contestant. Also, this was Lafontaine. Nik said he would strike back. She had to tread carefully.
Except Lafontaine grinned like a predator. “There’s a bit of that fire we’ve come to love. Tell me, did that come from your mother or Gaetan Arnaud?”
Elara frowned. “Both. Why?”
But the stage spun before she could get her answer.
Souverain Cormier regarded her strangely this time, lips pulled tight. “You’ve answered two questions linking your mother with Arnaud.”
“He was her mentor.”
“According to our reports, they spent more than the workday together.”
This was wrong. What were they playing at?
“They were friends.” She looked around at Berina and Hector working quickly, waiting their turn.
Relentlessly, the stage spun, questions coming faster and faster until she was dizzy and the room smelled of smoke and mismatched flavors. At least Berina and Hector were faring no better.
She faced Gabriel again. Where was Faucher? Tremblay? Perrault? And why weren’t they asking Berina and Hector any more questions?
“You say Arnaud taught you to bake as well,” Gabriel pressed. “When did he have time to do that?”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s a simple question. When did he teach you? Surely, he didn’t have time to run a bakery and teach a toddler at the same time?”
“He made time,” she snapped.
This wasn’t right. They were digging, and Elara knew better than to answer. If the Counseil had some kind of lead, they’d interrogate her until she gave them the answer they wanted.
The stage spun, and Lafontaine braced his chin on his gnarled knuckles.
“You’re being heralded as a hero in the Restes.”
“I was made aware of that.”
“Unforgettable,” he said wistfully. “Such an interesting sentiment for people to latch on to. What is it they wish people to remember?”
Elara clenched her teeth. “That they exist.”
“And these words came from you, a rebel’s daughter thrust into the spotlight.”
Stay silent, Fernand had coached her once when the guards came through The Market the month after her mother died.Give them nothing to hang you with.
Lafontaine might be looking at her, but he was speaking to the audience. Given their silence, given the lack of utensils clanking at the other stations—they werealllistening.
“Who would go to any length to ensure one of their own infiltrated our numbers? Turn an innocent girl into a pawn for his schemes?”
Panic swallowed her as she realized, too late, what his game was.
