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“Is dead. And even he did not call me ‘son.’ I am your king, and you are here to listen. Be glad if that is all you have to do.”
I stared them down, one after the other, allowing the howling wind inside me to be seen. Even Sophina did not meet my eyes with a fluttering of lashes like usual.
Novikov turned to von Uster again. “Is there war? Or are the peasants attacking?”
Ignoring his disrespect, I continued. Revenge was supposed to be sweet, but I found no reason to drag this out. I wanted it to end, so I could start on something new.
“Three years ago, four of you voted to murder my child. As it was tied, my father cast the final one. You gave legitimacy to his actions. Had you not,Ekatarina Kuznetsova’s family would have spoken out. Had you not, someone might have stepped up to help.”Thank the Goddess and Wishmaker both, the healers had anyway. After this, I would find a way to reward them.
Even Novikov had the decency to look uncomfortable. Tal was a city of death, but we did not kill children, especially not for their parents’ crimes.
“The king asked us to enforce the law,” Heridan said, face reddening. “It threatened to disrupt the succession and our relations with Oberwalden.”
“At least you don’t deny it. And do you always follow the law, Mar Heridan? How about wedding contacts? They are holy.”
The pulse on the side of his neck sped. “My private business—”
I slammed my hand onto the table, letting the anger out. “What could have been more private than my child and marriage?”
Finally, Heridan remained silent.
“Who else wishes to confess your vote?”
Uncomfortable glances were exchanged. Only Kazimir smiled. It seemed he enjoyed seeing the most powerful men and women in Tal squirm.
Sophina rose as if to approach me.
Before she was fully out of the chair, Koshka’s iron grip pressed her back down. Sophina tried to twist around before stiffening, presumably feeling the tip of a hidden blade. Sophina might pretend at powerless innocence, but she was a stronger wind whisperer than I. I had considered ordering Koshka to scar her face, knowing her beauty was what she treasured most, but the inevitable curse would not be worth the satisfaction. What von Uster had found would have to do.
“You murdered your husband,” I said as the spymaster placed five papers before her. “Those are the witness statements—all have volunteered to be verified by a water seer.”
“Seers are often wrong, finding unrelated issues,” she said, finally dropping the facade. “These are servants and relatives who hate me.”
Von Uster grinned, bushy eyebrows twitching, as if revealing the knowledge he kept for the Crown was the finest entertainment. “It’s not an absolute test of veracity, but with five supporting stories our past king had all he needed to persecute you. He only chose to keep it until needed. Our current king, decided that is now.”
He placed two more pages before her. Reading the top, she crumbled.
“Path will testify against me?”
Von Uster nodded. “Seems your current lover doesn’t trust he will not end the same way as the last one.”
“You’ll hang me?” Her voice held a pleading Vanya’s and Eki’s never had despite what had been done to them.
“You’ll put your affairs in order,” I said, bringing her attention back to me. “Before the Day of the Dead, name the heir we select and leave Tal forever. You’ll make up some excuse—you wish to travel, the death of your husband is too hard to bear, I don’t care what as long as it is unconnected to my rule.”
Tired of the theatrics, I turned back to Heridan. “I have the courtesan Esfir. After purchasing her freedom, she was more than happy to name others you have frequented. Name your nephew Head of House and retire to the country or your wife will receivea visit.”
Meekly—a description I had never expected to associate with the councilman—he nodded. If anything, Heridan seemed more afraid than Sophina when faced with execution.
Savva Novikov’s turn. “You have embezzled from the Merchant’s Guild for years.” Von Uster, grin growing, placed more documents on the table. “They’ll do more than hang you, they’ll ruin your whole House.”
The tea and spirits vibrated in their cups with Novikov’s anger as he pushed himself to his feet despite the disguised Roja’s hand on his shoulder. The flippant attitude and dandy clothes hid an exceptional water seer who once served with the griffon riders, for his strength lay in battle instead of foretelling.
A sneer twisted his face. “You think you have power because someone placed a crown on your head. That head can be removed.”
Von Uster and I had agreed Novikov would not fold, but my previous solution—ordering the Roja to sink the knife all the way in—had been cleaner than what came next.
“My spymaster has assured me you’ll not be an issue. It seems I’m not the only one that had a bastard.”
