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Rocco is on duty, and while my brother’s guards have never stopped me from entering Harristan’s quarters, I wonder if things have changed.
ButRocco gives me a nod. “Your Highness. The king is dining with Master Quint.”
“Marvelous. I’ll join them.” I grab hold of the door handle.
Harristan is talking and Quint is writing when I barrel into the room. They both look up at me in surprise.
Quint stands at once. “Your Highness.”
“Corrick,” says Harristan. “I sent word that we could meet tomorrow.”
“Hmm.” I move to the side table and pour myself a glass of brandy. “I believe I’ve heard that before.”
“Shall I allow you a moment of privacy?” Quint says. He gathers his papers.
“Yes,” I say.
“No,” says Harristan. “Corrick, we can meet tomorrow—”
“I am the King’s Justice,” I snap, “and half the consuls were embroiled in a treasonous plot against you, Harristan. I should be a part of your meetings.” I step close and slam my glass down on the table. “I should be interrogating them. I should be reviewing their holdings and their dosages and their—”
“Enough.” Harristan puts up a hand. “You’re right. The King’s Justice should be doing those things.” He pauses, and there’s no censure in his voice. “But from what I’ve learned, you were unhappy in that role.”
My brother’s voice is quiet, but full of weight. The room seems to tilt, just for a second.
I don’t know what to say.
I don’t know what I want to say.
To my horror, my chest tightens, and I have to look away.
Quint finishes gathering his papers. “I will have another meal sent.” But as he approaches the door, he stops beside me. “Before you went to the Circle with Tessa, I said you can only be the King’s Justice.” He pauses. “I was wrong. You should be Corrick.” He glances at Harristan and then back at me. “Especially here. Especially now. You’ve come too far.”
I have to swallow. “Thank you, Quint.”
“Always.”
Then he’s gone, and I’m alone with my brother.
I take a long breath, then down the glass of brandy. I move back to the side table to pour another.
Harristan appears at my side, and he takes the bottle out of my hands. “Cory.”
“Who will you choose in my place?” I say, and my voice is harsher than I expect. “You know, Rocco is more savvy than I gave him credit for, and he wouldn’t flinch from violence—”
“I’m not replacing you.”
“Ah, so you’re going to leave me to rot in my chambers?”
“No.” He sighs. “I was trying to see if I could understand what it is that you do.”
I freeze. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve been interrogating the consuls. I’ve been to the Hold. I’ve been—”
“You’ve been to the Hold?”
“Yes. You were correct about prisoners using chairs as weapons.”
