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“You shall not insult the Immovables, sir,” said Immortal Hughes.
“I shall,” snapped my father, looking back at the nobles. “I’ve been able to pull the wool over your eyes for far too long. If you do not yet believe me to be a criminal mastermind, then consider this: I, Orrin Yarrow, an impostor from Tramore, have impersonated an Immovable for the past twenty years and notoneof you has ever suspected me.” He bowed mockingly to the nobles. “So much for intelligence.”
Tears streamed down my face as the murmur of the room grew into a crescendo, all the nobles stunned and furious over the revelation of not one Immovable family secret, buttwo.
Graham still looked at me, his eyes afraid.
The nobles and Immortals crowded in on my father as if they intended violence.
I felt helpless and sick, unable to help or to even speak.
“Enough!” Cael got to his feet, red-faced. “I demand we adjourn this meeting until calm has been restored. Enforcers, escort the Strouds to my council chamber at once.” He pointed viciously at Graham. “And in light of new data, let’s start an investigation intothisman’s crimes, shall we? Bring him in handcuffs.”
“No!” Maeve grabbed Graham’s hand. “This is an injustice! You have no proof of these claims!”
“The claims came straight from the heir’s mouth,” said Cael. “My sincerest apologies, Lady Brennin, but your son is not worthy of the throne.”
Chapter
Thirty-Six
The guards escorted Graham,my father, and me from the Assembly Hall. They took us through a maze of halls and down multiple sets of stairs, deeper and deeper into the Academy. With each step descended, my fears and uncertainty rose.
We ended up in a windowless circular office with tall bookshelves against the walls and a broad desk in the center littered with quills and stacks of parchment. The room seemed to be below the Assembly Hall.
I was still cuffed and gagged, but I glared at my father, unable to do anything else to show the intensity of my disapproval.
I couldn’t stop wondering: what had he and Cael orchestrated?
As if in response to my internal question, Cael came through the door.
“Leave us,” he said to the guards who’d brought us here.
They exited the room, shutting the door with an echoing thud.
Cael turned to my father. “Not bad. I don’t think there’s a noble in that room who didn’t believe you. I’d say you delivered on your end of the deal.”
I tried to yell at them both, but the gag muffled my words.
My father reached into his pocket and removed a radio, setting it on the desk. “The radio was brilliant. Hearing exactly what Mara said allowed me to tailor my confession.”
So he had been the one listening on the other end of the radio, helping Cael with whatever deal they’d made. Cael had never seemed scared in the Hall and I knew now that it was because he’d had this final trump card waiting—the protective confession of Evander Stroud. But what I couldn’t understand was why he’d told Graham’s secret.
The one comfort I had was that in destroying Graham’s shot at the throne, Cael in turn disrupted his chance of remaining First Immortal.
Cael motioned to the gag in my mouth. “I’d take this off, but I think I know what you would say. Shock, disapproval, anger, more anger. ‘How could you, Father?’ I’ve heard it all before.”
My father looked at me, his smile fading as he met my glare. “What I said about you was nothing personal, I hope you know. I had to discredit you to defend you.”
I could only stare, trying to make sense of the man I thought I knew.
He reached over and untied my gag. “Fine. Let’s hear it. Your glares are almost worse than your words.”
I spat out the fabric. “I’ve had enough of your lies and manipulation and the way you talk about me like I’m a naive and disobedient child. I never want to speak to you again.”
He frowned. “Don’t you want to know why I did it?”
I did, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of my curiosity. “I know why. Cael is the son you never had and you wanted to make sure he remained blameless and powerful.”
