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“I’m here for the meeting,” she said in an imperious voice. She wouldn’t be on the invitation list, but any temple guard in Corcannon would recognize her face. “I believe my father is inside.”
The two men exchanged swift glances, and the one who appeared to be the ranking officer briefly nodded. “He is, dona,” said the younger one, pulling open the door. “They are upstairs in the patri’s private rooms.”
She nodded regally and swept inside, Jayla at her heels. “Thank you. I know the way.”
Harlo’s suite was on the third story, up a grand staircase broad enough to accommodate a marching troop. To the left were his personal quarters, which Madeleine had never been inside; to the right were his office, a library, and a dining hall that could hold about twenty people. Madeleine could hear the low hum of voices as she approached the room, could smell the rich scents of expensive food. She glanced back just to makesureJayla was with her, then she stepped through the open door.
In the moments it took for anyone to realize she was in the room, she took a swift look around, noting where all the Council members sat. They tended to be grouped by the lands they represented. Heloise and Tivol sat near Cherse Bandelo and his daughter, all of them owning property in Marata. Lara Dargenten and her son, who were from Chibain, had taken seats by Reese. She focused briefly on Reese, because just the sight of him made her steadier, even though he hadn’t seen her yet.
Then she surveyed the rest of the table. Harlo and her father, representing the interests of the city, had been joined by Madeleine’s uncle Archer. She had always considered Archer a cold and dispassionate man, though her cousins were extremely fond of him; now she supposed his knowledge of her eventual fate had made it hard for him to show her any affection. She noted that Harlo had come alone. Did he not have a successor who knew the whole story? Surely the secretary of the sanctuary must know the truth. She even wondered if he had shared the details with Benito.
She also noticed something she should have realized a long time ago. No one on the Council represented the islands or Oraki, which apparently didn’t deserve votes in government. She wondered how the goddess Zessaya felt about that.
As she was trying to decide how to announce herself, there was the sound of a glass falling over and Lara Dargenten muffling a curse. Everyone looked Lara’s way—and then turned to see what she was staring at with such dismay. The room grew absolutely still.
“Good evening,” Madeleine said, pleased to find her voice did not tremble. “Have you all been discussing me?”
Her father came to his feet. “Madeleine,” he said sharply. “You shouldn’t be here.”
She stepped deeper in the room. “I think I should.”
Now Harlo was standing, reaching his hand out and offering his usual benevolent smile. To think that she had always gone to Harlo when she needed solace! To remember that he was the one who had comforted her after Logan died! “Madeleine,” he said in his sweet way. “Has something happened? We are always happy to see you, but we are in the middle of Council business. It’s not the best time for you to be here.”
“It is the perfect time for me to be here, asIam the Council’s business.”
Her father came striding around the table, his face red with fury. She thought he might try to grab her arm and fling her out of the room, so she moved quickly to put a serving table between them. He would look ridiculous trying to chase her around a piece of furniture, and he knew it, because he came to an abrupt stop. “This is not the time,” he said in a low, frustrated voice.
“I’m no longer interested in your opinion,” she said.
Tivol had also jumped to his feet. He called out her name, but it was lost in the general swell of questions from everyone else at the table. Most of the others had also risen, but they stood uneasily by their chairs, not sure what to do next. Harlo was the only one brave enough to approach her, his arm still outstretched.
“What’s happened, my dear?” Harlo asked. She twitched away when he tried to take her hand, but he maintained his expression of concern. “Tell me.”
She focused on his face when she answered. “What’s happened is that I’ve learned I—and my children—have been chosen as sacrifices to Cordelan. I thought we should talk about that.”
Harlo’s face showed such shocked alarm that Madeleine felt a rush of savage triumph. He staggered back, but her father stepped closer and Tivol came hurrying around the dining room table. She flung out a hand and ordered, “Stay away from me.”
Tivol halted beside her father and stared at her, his face stricken. “Madeleine—is this why you—oh, Madeleine, if you only knew how many times I wanted to tell you—”
She spoke directly to him. “If you had wanted me to know, you would have told me.” She glanced from her father to Harlo. “And you. And you. All pretending to love me, and all scheming behind my back.”
Harlo had a hand to his heart, as if it was breaking and he thought he might hold the shattered pieces together with his fingers. “Never pretending,” he said, his beautiful voice broken. “Child, I have loved you so much and grieved every day at what lay in store for you—”
“Even if that were true,” she said, “I hate you.”
Lara Dargenten spoke up over the resulting hubbub. “Fine, you know the truth, you’re furious,” she said in her strident voice. “Nothing changes, except that maybe we move ahead with less secrecy. Which is what I’ve always favored anyway.” When Madeleine looked her way, Lara gave her a brief, brisk nod. “It’s a tragedy, but we might as well enlist your willing cooperation. Easier on all of us.”
“Oh, you are too optimistic if you think I am endorsing your plans,” Madeleine said. “Willing does even remotely describe my state of mind.”
“You have no choice,” Lara said shortly.
“Madeleine,” Tivol begged. “Don’t you see? They willcompelyou. Your only hope for any kind of life is to agree to their terms—”
She glanced at her father, her eyebrows raised. He said shortly, “She has shared the information with confederates who will publish it widely if she is mistreated in any fashion.”
There was a collective gasp at that news, then a few moments of furious arguing. Harlo touched her arm again, and again she shook him off. “Madeleine,” he said, his face creased with distress. “That is terrible, dangerous information to set loose in the world.”
“So don’t mistreat me,” she said. “It seems simple enough.”
