Page 98 of Reign

“It’s so impossible for you to fathom I’d prefer being an adopted Loughrey over a Stone,” Emma chimes in, then looks at me. “We would never let it get so far, Callie. We just had to play the game to get in here. But we’re on your side. Thanks for the signal, Tempest. And for getting her here like you promised.”

Tempest nods, crossing his arms on a grin. I narrow my eyes at him, wondering just what my Scooby crew had gotten up to while I was unconscious.

“Violet is not like any of you liars,” Sabine sputters, her eyes glancing over Tempest, Eden, Emma, me. She’s counting the growing number against her. “She is the loveliest of my Virtues. She would never, ever—”

“I’m here,” a small voice says.

The scuffling, the accusations, the robe-tearing, halts at those two, whispered words.

Violet pushes past Falyn and ignores Willow’s imploring hand as she moves to stand by my side.

She lowers her arm, catches my hand in hers, and squeezes. “Callie speaks the truth.”

I jolt at the volume, unused to Violet emitting such echoing certainty. “Piper admitted her involvement in Emma’s beating, in the fire, before she died. I was too afraid to say anything. I … I couldn’t believe it. She spoke of her mother like our queen was a monster. She told me what Emma was forced to do … with you, Senator Bachman.”

The entire temple gasps. Mine might’ve joined them.

“And you, Mr. Torrence, Mr. Andrews, Dr. Hoffman. Piper named you all.” Violet bows her head, her fingers digging into my hand, but she pivots to Emma. “I’m so sorry. You endured the worst the society had to offer. You went to Piper for help, and she tried and failed. It should’ve landed on me next. But I was too scared. Too much of a cowardly mouse to ever be considered commanding.” She looks at her friends, Willow, and Falyn. “Not anymore. I mentioned my worries to you guys, but you brushed me off. You acted like I was mistaken. And you put me up as the next princess after Ivy.” Violet tilts her head. “You knew what that meant for me.”

Willow looks to the side, her gaze skating across mine but never landing. I study her expression, searching for our similarities, but I find none. Not inside, or out.

Falyn glares at Violet, insolence twisting her lips.

Shifting my balance, I squeeze Violet’s shoulder. She’s not alone when it comes to being a recipient of Willow and Falyn’s ire.

“This is all your fault.”

I jerk my gaze to Falyn’s.

“No. It’s yours,” Violet says, either not realizing Falyn’s speaking to me or deciding she doesn’t care. “You stand by Sabine and do her bidding like what she demands isn’t despicable and belittling.”

“Shut up, Vi. I’m talking to your pet possum—or should I say, everybody’s pest. You refuse to be put down, Callie, instead involving our entire school, thinking you’re doing them a favor, when all you’ve accomplished is ruin. For them. For us.”

I part my lips. “That’s big talk for a girl who’s never been forced to fuck one of those men up there to fill Sabine’s pockets.”

“Enough!” Sabine screeches. She prowls over to me, wraps her cold, boney hand around my wrist, and holds it high. “Is this your new princess? Your future queen? She is as my Marquess says. A rodent. A pest. A delusional imbicile.”

The crowd above murmurs among each other, so low in tone, it’s difficult to tell which way they’re leaning.

I struggle against Sabine, but she holds fast. “Allow me to put it to a vote,” she says. “I’ll admit to concealing Rose Briar’s surviving lineage, but it was for the best interests of the Society. Rose was not well before she disappeared. Manic, untrustworthy, and mourning her multiple miscarriages and stillbirths.” Sabine slants her gaze to me. “Hereditary, I’m sure. My great-great grandmother understood this and deduced that the Virtues could not endure if they were to wait for Rose’s secret child to come of age. The Harringtons took over, if only to keep our women strong. To maintain their educations and discover the top girls, grooming them for successful futures—”

“Did you start back then?” I sneer. “Selling your girls to maintain your authority over the Nobles?”

“Shut up,” she hisses, her nails biting into my skin. “Your credibility has long since soured, you useless, vile cunt.”

My eyes widen at her open vindictiveness, my hand going slack in her hold.

But nobody saw or heard it.

“Yes, put it to a vote.” Tempests saunters to center stage.

Sabine’s lower lip trembles with the intense need to shut him up, but a part of her must know she can’t, not if she wants to continue her charade.

“Vote with the full knowledge that I’m with Callie, as is Emma Loughrey, a legacy of the Nobles and a former Virtue Princess, adopted or not. And Eden Yurman, a recipient of the Virtue’s torture.” Tempest notches up his chin. “And the current Noble Prince, Chase Stone, who’s authorized me as his emissary and wishes for Sabine Harrington to step down.”

A rush of voices meets his statement, but one person manages to talk over him. “And the king?”

“The king stands with his queen.” Tempest shrugs.

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