Chapter 25 #2
“Yes, this looks precisely the same as the one used to kill the king and queen,” he says simply, as if we’d asked him to count some change.
“This is your proof?” Oclanna tries to force what looks like a smirk, but it fails. She’s too nervous to pull it off. “The assassin who paid him was clearly an associate of that fae demon and yours,” she says, her eyes darting from Leon to me.
“If the princess was in league with the Filusians as you’ve claimed, Your Majesty, why wouldn’t they use their own knife to kill the king and queen? Why have a fake one made?” General Becane asks.
Oclanna rises from her throne, her hands fisting as she addresses her court.
“Whether she’s responsible for their deaths or not, she can’t deny she’s guilty of a far worse crime.
This woman is a heretic!” A rustle goes through the crowd, and I see more than one noble frowning.
Not at me—at her. My guess is they’re not thrilled that Oclanna’s words seem dismissive of her “beloved” sister’s death.
But Oclanna doesn’t notice, still ranting about heresy.
“She’s an abomination, a thief who stole from gods! And you, Bearer Sophos,” she jabs a finger toward him, “you have sullied the glory of Ethira by coming here today with this blasphemer.”
Sophos levels a piercing glare at Oclanna, one so calmly imperious that she abruptly sits back down.
“I came here today because Ethira’s glory has already been sullied in the halls of the high temple,” Sophos says. “By a leader who has lied to you all.”
Oclanna gapes. Even with Sophos arriving as part of my escort, she hadn’t fully believed he was betraying Caledon outright.
“You dare to speak so disrespectfully of the Grand Bearer?” she gasps.
“I do,” Sophos says, turning to address the rest of the court.
“You all know me as someone who has devoted his life to the Temple, who has the ear of the Grand Bearer. I know his secrets.” Sophos inhales, preparing to deliver the news no one here will believe unless it comes from his mouth.
“Marek Caledon’s power is celestial. He is a solari, not an incendi as he has always claimed. ”
By now, the nobles would likely be making gasps of astonishment, even trying to argue, but Sophos keeps the room silent as he presses on with his revelations.
“Some of you will know that the Temple did not always condemn this kind of magic. When he came to power, the Grand Bearer made sure that solari were outlawed. This is because his magic doesn’t ‘cleanse’ people as you have been told.
Instead, it allows him to absorb other solaris’ magic to empower himself.
He has used Temple doctrine to hoard magic for his own selfish reasons, killing innocent solari children, convincing you all he was saving them as he did it. ”
“Lies!” Oclanna hisses. “He would never!”
“Get the fae to test me if you wish,” Sophos says, gesturing to Alastor, then addressing Oclanna directly.
“I believe you have faith, Your Majesty. You and your husband have been loyal adherents to the Ethiran ways. But I tell you now, the Grand Bearer is the very thing you profess to hate, and he has made you hate it, all so he can seize as much power as possible for himself.”
I see the flicker of doubt in Oclanna’s eyes. She may have been Caledon’s puppet queen, but at least she thought she was in on the trick. Now she’s realizing how much she might have been used, how thoroughly the wool has been pulled over her eyes.
I’m distracted from her face when Sophos releases his bubble of silence and sound floods back through the court. I study the nobles for their reactions. I’m sure there will be plenty who doubt Sophos’s words, but I suspect few of them are as devoted to the Grand Bearer as Oclanna and Jocor.
Most nobles have more freedom from the Temple than the peasants and merchants of this land. They’re forced to publicly show respect and reverence, of course, but when given the option, Sophos told me that few of them choose to attend the Temple’s sanctuaries regularly.
“We’ve done what we can now,” Leon murmurs in my mind. “Let their consciences do the rest.”
He’s right. We can’t force these people to believe anything. But now we’ve given them the truth, I can do what I came here to do at last.
“My lords and ladies,” I say, addressing the court. “I had no say in what magic I was born with. I had no part in my parents’ deaths,” I slide my gaze to Oclanna. We haven’t come out and said who did engineer their murders yet, but the suggestion of it hangs in the air, unspoken.
“But my birthright is much more than my magic,” I continue.
“And I know my mother and father would want me to claim it. Not simply because I am their rightful heir, or because they believed in my innocence, sending me away to protect me from the Temple, but because I will do what is best for Trova. I will not let this kingdom be destroyed by people like the Grand Bearer, who lies to you, who steals your land, and who commandeers the royal armies for his own gain. Who tries to tell you who you must hate, even if they’re your own family. ”
Harman and Alastor learned, through their outreach, how many of the nobles dislike the way the Temple meddles in their world, seeing it as overreach and entitlement.
“And that’s why I challenge you, Oclanna Rosier,” I say, meeting my aunt’s eyes. “I make a claim to your throne, and demand you defend it, or die. How do you answer?”
Oclanna opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Her husband jumps to his feet.
“No,” Jocor cries, and for the first time I see real fear in his eyes. His wife is about to get dragged into a deadly contest, and he’s genuinely terrified she’ll lose. “You can’t do this. A challenge needs a second from the council,” he says, with the air of someone clutching at straws.
“And she has one.” Countess Irisma raises a wrinkled hand.
“She has two,” comes a voice from the crowd, a man who looks to be about Irisma’s age.
“And a third,” calls a younger woman near the front.
General Becane steps into the aisle, a hand on the pommel of his sword, a reminder of his oath to uphold the nation’s laws.
“You know the rules, Your Majesty. Either you step down when challenged or defend the throne to the death,” he says.
Oclanna is still lost for words. She looks toward her husband again in a clear cry for help.
“But the princess will be using forbidden magic. Stolen power!” Jocor desperately adds.
“How is that a fair challenge?” His eyes frantically search the room, as if expecting someone to step forward in support, but no one does.
While there are some disturbed faces in the crowd, it seems only her husband is willing to stick his neck out for Oclanna.
I’d feel sorry for her, if I didn’t hate her so much.
Still, Jocor has a point. I don’t want anyone claiming that this challenge is unjust. Not after the lengths we’ve gone to win over the court.
Leon catches the idea as it rises in me. “Ana…” he says warningly. “Don’t do anything—”
“You wouldn’t do?” I counter. “But my love, this is absolutely something you would do.”
I clear my throat. “Very well. If there are concerns about my power, then I shall forfeit the use of it. My aunt may use her aquari skills, but I will fight her without any magic.”