Page 133 of The Endless War

And they were angry.

“You’re a traitor, Lestara.” And Petra had wanted Keris to know how she’d gotten to him. Had wanted him to know that it was his choices and missteps that had allowed her to strike this blow. “All those dead beneath your feet are your victims, but so are the living.” He gestured at the crowd, which was full of furious faces, marriage knives that had never known an edge until now drawn from their sheaths, the steel glittering. “Perhaps I should allow them revenge.”

All the color drained from Lestara’s face, but she shouted, “I have done nothing. I am loyal to Maridrina!”

“Enough, Lestara. Confess the truth, and I’ll consider mercy. Continue this farce, and I’ll listen to your confession as your victims pull you to pieces.”

Picking up a shovel, he scooped up dirt from the pile and tossed it at her face. As he did, Keris was suddenly struck with a memory of Raina. Of how she’d told him that there was honor in shoveling cow shit in the bridge because it demonstrated loyalty and a willingness to do what it took. It felt like a lifetime ago that he’d laughed at the idea, yet now he wondered, if he filled enough graves, if he might earn back the trust of his people. He tossed another shovel full of dirt at her, clumps sticking in her long hair. “Confess, Lestara.”

The crowd was seething, screaming for blood, demanding their vengeance. “Keris,” Sarhina muttered, “we won’t be able to stop them.”

His heart was hammering in his chest, pulse roaring, because he didn’t want to stop them. Didn’t want to deny them a chance atrevenge. “Confess!” he shouted, throwing another shovel full of dirt in her face.

Lestara’s amber eyes met his, and the manipulative, power-hungry viper who’d been told at age seven that she was destined to be queen finally revealed itself. “Fine,” she hissed. “I’ll confess what I know, Keris. I’ll tell them exactly how their king has betrayed them.”

He could silence her. Could allow the tide of violence to flow over Lestara before she had the chance to speak the damning truth and allow her death to absolve him of wrongdoing in the eyes of his people.

It was the smart move. The strategic choice.

It was also what his father would have done.

Rounding on the mob, he lifted his hand and shouted, “Listen!”

And his heart skipped in his chest as they fell still, heeding him as their king for the first, and probably the last, time ever.

“The only thing I confess to is trying to rid Maridrina of a traitor,” Lestara shouted, voice rising out of the pit as she moved to stand at the center. “Of trying to rid Maridrina ofits king.”

The mob didn’t attack, though Keris didn’t know if it was on the weight of his command or their desire to hear what Lestara had to say.

“The reason your king has cast aside his good Maridrinian harem is that he’s in love with a Valcottan. And not just any Valcottan. The Empress’s niece, Zarrah Anaphora.”

And there it was.

Out in the open in a way that could never be undone, and though Keris knew the revelation might be the death of him, it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Before your king threw him to his death, the spymaster Serin sent me a message, which I came to understand was his attempt to protect Maridrina from the traitor who’d taken the throne,” she shouted. “Serin’s message told me that your king, Keris Veliant, took up with a Valcottan woman during his time in Nerastis. Not just once, but night after night, because he was in love with her.”

I knew she’d be your damnation,Coralyn’s voice echoed through his thoughts.What you two are doing is forbidden by both your peoples.

Lestara gave a slow shake of her head. “I didn’t want to believe Keris would stoop so low. Refused to believe it, even though Serin offered me proof.” She turned to address him. “But when you, who treats his precious tomes like children, could not bring yourself to recall where you’d left my book, I knew Serin spoke true. You abandoned my book, which I’d given to you with love in my heart, in a tawdry inn where you coupled with the enemy.”

She lifted her chin, expression full of defiance as she panned the crowd like a queen delivering justice from her throne. Keris held his breath and waited for the judgement that had been held over him for so long. Waited for them to turn their weapons on him. Waited for them to hurl stones for violating an unwritten law that ruled every Maridrinian.

Silence.

“Do you hear me?” Lestara shouted. “Your king is in love with a Valcottan! He hasn’t been in Ithicana; he’s been in the south, rescuing Zarrah from Devil’s Island. He plans to make a Valcottan your queen! The sacking of Vencia was Petra’s retaliation for his audacity!”

Her accusation carried over the heads of the crowd, but no one spoke, though tension hummed through the air as everyone waited to see how he would respond. It occurred to Keris, as he listened to the moan of the wind and the shuffle of feet, how exhausting they must all find it to be endlessly at the mercy of those in power. To have their lives torn apart as the result of a petty feud between members of a single family, and to now listen as it was all dragged before them like dirty laundry. He could not change what had been done.

But he could tell them why.

Keris cleared his throat, knowing that his life was very much on the line at this moment, and he’d be lying to say that fear didn’t thrum through his veins. But it had always needed to come to this. The truth had always needed to be revealed, else the dream of peace that he and Zarrah had nurtured between them would never come to pass. “It’s true. Zarrah Anaphora holds my heart, as I hold hers, and together, we hoped to end the war between our nations. Hoped to bring peace and prosperity to our people. Petra knew our intent, and sacked Venciabecause she knew that a union between Zarrah and me was the death knell for the Endless War.”

Every muscle in his body tensed as Keris braced for the outburst, but instead, the only sound was his words being repeated back to those in the rear.

“What’s wrong with you?” Lestara screamed. “Seize him! Kill him! All of this is his fault!”

One of the women watching picked up a handful of mud and chucked it at Lestara. “Shut your gob. He might have shit in Petra’s porridge, but it’s clear enough that you were the one who opened our back door for her to fling her own mud.” Then the woman looked directly at him. “Ain’t never thought I’d see the day when a Veliant claimed to want to end the war. War’s all your family ever wants, strutting about like peacocks while our men bleed and die. We’ve been wanting an end to it since it began, but Veliants care only for their pride.”

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