Page 113 of Until the End of Ever
He wore long black robes, with red embroidered threads, and a thick chain of gold around his shoulders, a shining ruby at its center. Completing the imposing look was a wide-brimmed woolen hat, flat on top.
“You.” My voice was ice.
I hadn’t spoken to him in months. In fact, I wasn’t certain we’d come across each other since last year, other than the occasional glimpse from afar in ballrooms. Sometimes, he waved. Oftentimes, he was too busy.
“Kley-bear.” My father removed his hat, running his hand over his hair, which had more white threads through the blond curls than I remembered. “I’m so sorry. I heard—I couldn’t believe?—”
He shook his head.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
I’d been used, betrayed, almost destroyed by one parent today. I wasn’t going to let the other get their claws into me.
“I found him at the Hall of Truce, trying to make his way to the underside. The poor bloke didn’t know how to open the lift,” Ronan said, slapping my father’s back none too gently. “Said he wanted to see you.”
Leander Valesco looked around the kitchen, visibly uncomfortable in a crowd he couldn’t control or dominate. The only people he knew, Gideon and Silver, weren’t on his side today. His blue eyes returned to mine.
“I’m the one who found your mother. I felt a disturbance in the temples close to my office. The altar in Zeus’s temple—I knew the spells. That’s when I understood what she’d done, whatshe’d tried to do. I deduced that she must have meant to do it toyou.”
The simple fact that my father guessed that his wife would have wanted to enslave me made me want to throttle him. “And if you knew as much, why, exactly, did you let that woman raise me? Why did you let me believe she was mymother?” I demanded, resentment almost clouding everything.
But at the end of the day, it didn’t matter that I’d believed my mother hated me my whole life. The only thing that mattered was Lucian.
“I take it you had Lucian arrested.”
“No!” He shook his head. “Absolutely not. The entire setup suggested a ritual gone wrong. But the Valmont boy, Castor. He accused Lucian. As Zenya’d been drained of all power, the Guard took over. I had no idea you were even involved. I tried to find you. That’s when I heard the runners who brought the Regis boy in say you were here.”
For all his flaws, my father had always had a distinctive quality other politicians lacked: he never lied. Frankly, he was terrible at it, so he didn’t try, sticking to using truth to get his way.
I made myself nod. “I don’t have time to rehash history, or bring you up to speed on the last months of my life. If you can help Lucian, I’ll thank you for it. If you can’t, get out of here. I don’t have time.”
I’d never been so cold or cruel. I wasn’t even trying to hurt him, but I truly didn’t care if my words ended up wounding the man who’d failed to protect the little girl I used to be from the woman he chose to bring into my life.
The woman who wasforcedto wed him. Did he even know that? I’d like to think he didn’t. But I also didn’t care enough to ask. Not now.
Leander Valesco straightened up. “I am the high magister of Highvale. The council might be above many laws, but I can play their game.”
Cassius stood, and my father didn’t even flinch. The two men stared at each other, until Cassius summoned another two teacups and poured for Ronan and my father. “What can you do?”
Leander took the cup. “They’re convening as we speak, trying to speed through a verdict. The elders’ vote won’t count: the Saltzins and Regises cannot weigh in on the boy’s fate, as his direct family. So it’s the will of the ruling council that will prevail. They’ll find him guilty,” he stated without modifiers. “But I’ll oppose the verdict.”
I only noticed how much I’d trembled when my hands stopped shaking.
“You can do that?” I whispered.
My father nodded. “In truth, the ruling council doesn’t have a quorum either: with Zenya gone, they don’t have seven seats. They’re likely hoping no one notices or argues about it. And no one else might. But I will,” he asserted. “I’ll call for a judgement in front of the magistrates. This buys you time to find proof in order to protect the boy. Only three days.” He winced. “I can’t push for longer. I wish I could do more. No, Iwilldo more, as and when I can at the trials. But my power is limited.Youmust convince the magistrates. Most of them detest all unders, all founders, and especially Lucian. He’s made a mockery of the council and the magistrates by taking justice into his hands in the past. I fear that will mean many will find him guilty out of spite. Justice may not prevail, but it’s a much better chance?—”
I didn’t listen to the rest. My father was prone to overlong, grandiloquent speeches, and he’d said everything relevant already.
The last words I heard brought a crystal-clear image to my mind, and all of a sudden, I knew what to do.
Justice may not prevail.
Justice—
I saw it clear as day. A woman in white, holding the scales in her hand, tall and proud.
We were the children of Highvale, city of the blood of the gods.
