If his power relied on performance, then power lived not in him, but in the people he believed were beneath notice.
Players on a stage.
But players could be removed.
Players could change the show.
She drew a breath, the first steady one of the morning.
He cannot be changed.
But he can be undone.
And she, the ornament he was so proud to display, was the one piece he would never suspect.
An idea flickered to life, dangerous and impossible.
Halverton pulled on his gloves. “I am going to speak to the captain. The entertainment starts in one hour. Do not be late.”
Halverton sauntered off. Aoife stared after him.
Her mistake had been believing she could change Halverton. Believing that pleasing him, softening him, flattering him, could save her family or her people. Appeasement had not bought safety. It had only brought pain.
Whatever change would come, it would not come through him.
It would not come through survival on his terms.
If the empire would not act, and the system was rotten to its marrow, then the only way to survive winter was to remove him from the equation entirely.
Her heart beat hard.
She had one card left. One advantage he did not know she held. And as the morning light struck the embroidered flowers on her gown, the shape of an idea formed, dangerous and fragile. She had one card left, and an idea of how to play it.
Chapter 27
Aoife paced the narrow passage by the staff entrance, her palms slick against the folds of her dress. She didn’t have long before Lord Halverton expected her on the dais. Her heart thudded with the rhythm of her plan, fragile but the only one she had.
She swallowed, trying to steady herself. Wiren needed to be there. His men needed to be there.
She had gone looking for Wiren as soon as Halverton had left her. He was in the lower courtyard, standing with a group of Morran stable hands as they swept the flagstones. He straightened when he saw her coming, his expression flickering from surprise to wariness.
“Walk with me,” she had said. “Please.”
He hesitated, then nodded. They moved to the shelter of the archway, out of earshot.
“I need a favour,” she said. “A… dangerous one.”
Wiren’s jaw tightened. “If this is about stopping what’s going to happen—”
“It isn’t.” Her voice cracked despite her effort.
His shoulders eased a fraction. “Tell me.”
She glanced toward the path leading to the gallows field. “Halverton wants a crowd. And crowds can turn.” Her voice dropped further.
Wiren tilted his head. “Sounds like you’re expecting trouble.”
Aoife hesitated, a moment’s doubt flickering in her mind. Could she trust Wiren? Resolve settled over her. “I’m counting on it,” she told him.
