Page 343 of Heat of the Everflame

“You still need six votes for a pardon.”

I carefully guarded my reaction. I controlled three Crowns—three votes. If my mother was right about the Arboros Queen, I was hopeful I could count on hers. That meant I needed Doriel’s vote and one other. Umbros and Ignios would never agree to spare me—that left only Faunos and Meros.

“I saw you and Meros talking at my coronation. You two are allies, are you not?”

“Our relationship is cordial,” Doriel hedged, looking wary of my interest. “Why do you ask?”

“If you can convince the Meros King to agree, I can take care of the rest.”

“And how do you expect to do that?”

“Let me worry about that. This is all I’m asking from you. Are you willing to give it?”

“There’s still the matter of Coeurîle.” Doriel let out a soft exhale, a touch of exhaustion on their features. “The rebels’ occupation has proven harder to overcome than anticipated. The army’s soldiers are already spread too thin around the continentin case of another attack. If we call them to the island for a battle, it would leave us all vulnerable.”

“There won’t be a battle. The Guardians will give us access to the Kindred’s Temple.”

Doriel sneered. “Because they answer to you?”

“Because they answer to my mother.” I smiled tightly. “And she’ll allow it because the Crowns are going to pardon her, too.”

“Absolutely not. Your mother is a killer.” They leapt to their feet and wagged a finger at me. “And if you think the Meros King will agree to this, you’re out of your mind. His realm has been under siege by the Guardians for months.”

“My mother has been trapped on the island since Forging Day. She couldn’t have ordered those attacks.”

“As their leader, she is responsible—”

“And what aboutyourresponsibility?” I snapped. “Mortals are dying on this continent every day. They’re starving, freezing, being tortured and imprisoned—”

“Not in my realm,” Doriel said haughtily.

“Because you exiledthem all! You think that absolves you of what happens outside your borders? If you know people are dying, and you have the power to stop it but you look away, that blood is on your hands, too. And don’t think I don’t know what happens to the mortals you invite here to ‘study.’” I prowled forward, hissing in their face. “If my mother has to answer for her people’s crimes, I’ll make sure you answer for yours.”

Doriel paled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do. And so do the Guardians.”

“I—we—our research...” They cleared their throat and stood taller. “The mortals in my realm are given every luxury and paid for their work. They have equal rights as any Descended. They fare better here than anywhere else in Emarion.”

“Until they end up dead in some experiment.”

To my surprise, Doriel looked genuinely pained. “Wisdom requires sacrifice. We are all grateful to those who volunteer—”

I waved them off with a grunt of disgust. “Defend your murders to someone else.” I flopped back in my chair and crossed my arms. “You have my terms, Doriel. Take them or leave them.”

“And if I leave them?”

I shrugged. “Ophiucae is coming for all the Descended eventually. I can protect mypeople. Can you say the same?”

Their eyes dimmed with a somber defeat. “How do I know you’ll keep your word? Maybe we’ll coronate you and never see you again.”

Again, I hesitated. “If it will get all the Crowns to agree...” I cringed, then clenched my jaw. “I’ll enter into a bonded bargain to seal the terms.”

My stomach roiled, my heart regretting the words the second they left my lips. With so much at stake, putting my magic on the line could be catastrophic—especially when I still wasn’t convinced I could follow through.

Doriel gazed at the floor, their brows furrowed in deep thought. “I’ll consider your offer. There are matters I need to look into first. Some... research I require.”

“We don’t have time. If he moves his camp, we might not find him again. And if he attacks—”

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