Chapter 54
Vivian’s Point of View
Rule fifty-four: If you’re going to claim a chair, do it with style.
Ragna has been conveniently surrounded by rebel army leaders since she dropped the bomb about my father.
Part of me is convinced she was lying. I always figured I was fathered by a one-night stand that my mother was too embarrassed to bring up.
Sin is seething, and I’m not doing much better, but we’ve both agreed to wait until after the conclave to get answers.
Tonight is too important. We need to present a solid front, or we might lose the few people who are willing to stand with us.
Given how painfully outnumbered we are in this war, every person is crucial.
Need’s throne room has been converted into something between a dinner party and a meeting hall to host the event. Small tables are interspersed around the lower floor, and the atmosphere feels forcibly casual.
It’s as if everyone is on edge, but we’re all trying to ignore it.
The castle’s usual dress code is back in full force. I think ball gowns are a bit over the top, but people get comfort from the familiar. Or at least, that’s what Rosie said when I visited her in the infirmary. Her face was even paler today, the circles under her eyes almost indigo.
When I expressed my concern, Sarah assured me that they were taking care of her. I offered to stay and help, but Rosie’s voice was like steel when she handed me a garment bag and ordered me to go get ready.
Conner blew me a kiss before I left, and Isaac gave me a thumbs-up, wishing me luck. Then, for some reason, Sarah threw a bandage at his head, only to dissolve into a fit of giggles when Rosie whispered something to her.
Their banter warmed my heart. I knew Rosie and Sarah would be thick as thieves. With their bubbly personalities, it’s like getting an instant dose of joy when you talk to them.
Thankfully, the gown Rosie picked for me isn’t a poofy monstrosity. Instead, I’m draped in a deep red silk gown. It has a high halter neck, an open back, and hangs softly down my legs. There are two parallel slits on each side that reach my upper thighs.
Is it a professional look?
No.
But I’m just here to cast a vote. So, I’m not too concerned about looking like a politician.
Sin and I have claimed a small table in the far back corner of the room. It was my idea, and I explained that it would help us keep a closer eye on Ragna.
Am I also hiding, just in case someone gets a stupid idea about trying to nominate me?
Yes.
But only because I’m a terrible choice, and we really need a strong leader.
“I’m still waiting to collect my prize, kitten,” Sin notes, his eyes dragging over the exposed skin of my back, yet again.
I don’t think he’s stopped since I put it on.
My body heats under his gaze, but the topic is enough to keep me lust-free. “Later,” I grumble, not looking forward to the conversation.
Rough fingers trail down my spine, and I curl back into them. Sin looks roguishly handsome tonight. The sleeves of his black shirt are rolled up, and there’s something about the veins in his forearms that are doing things to me.
He smirks, pressing closer. “I want everything, every last truth behind your emotions,” he whispers. “Will you let me in?”
My heart skips a beat, and I freeze as I realize exactly what he’s asking.
Sin wants permission to go inside my mind.
I wait for the automatic fear I usually get at the thought. Only, it never comes. I’m already going to tell him the truth, since I can’t stomach lying to him. So, what difference does it make if he gets the information at the source?
Even though Sin thinks he’s capable of doing unthinkable things to save me, I know he would never hurt me. I trust him.
My eyes drift up to his, and the intensity I find there has my pulse picking up another notch.
“Okay,” I whisper back.
He takes a sharp inhale, his eyes searching mine, as if he’s making sure that I’m not messing with him.
“My thoughts are yours, Sin.” I smile softly, even though I know the fallout from the conversation will leave us both upset.
“Thank you all for joining us this evening,” Morgana starts. She and Ragna are standing in front of Need’s throne, on the raised platform at the front of the room.
Morgana’s voice echoes across the space with ease, and all eyes turn to them. “We all know why we are here, and time is not on our side. So, without any further ado, it’s time to hear your nominations.”
“My thoughts are yours after the vote, when everyone is busy talking to the new leader,” I clarify in a rushed whisper.
A few people are muttering, and I’m trying to hear what they’re saying, but Sin gently tips my chin, so my focus stays with him. He’s looking at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world.
“You won’t change your mind?” He asks, sounding worried.
“Of course not,” I answer, frowning.
A slight smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Promise?”
“Yes, I promise,” I whisper back quickly, and easily pull away to turn back to the crowd.
I want to hear the nominations. I’m taking the vote seriously.
Sin must catch on, since he moves back a step and turns to face Morgana and Ragna. Something in my stomach sinks when I realize they’re staring right at us.
They want to nominate Sin, I reassure myself. That makes sense. Sin would make an amazing leader. My anxiety flares at the thought that they’re waiting for me to do it.
Someone would have told me if that was my job, right?
“I’m holding you to the promise, kitten,” Sin whispers, and the look he gives me is tortured.
I don’t have a chance to worry about how ominous that sounds when he looks back at the crowd.
“I nominate Vivian Ryans,” he exclaims in a loud voice.
Ice floods my veins.
“You did not just do that,” I hiss under my breath.
It’s okay, there’s still time to fix this. All I have to do is nominate Sin, and everyone will vote him in instead.
“All in favor of electing Vivian, please raise your hand,” Ragna orders before I can get a word out.
Hands raise around the room, both from familiar faces and strangers. My hope fades as I realize there’s only one person who doesn’t have their hand up.
It’s me.
I look over at Conner, Sarah, and Isaac, who are sitting at a table with Rosie, Magnus, Damien, and Arianna. They aren’t official voting members, but they have their hands raised, whooping and cheering.
It would probably reflect poorly on everyone’s judgment if their newly elected leader crawled under this table and hid.
“It’s unanimous, we all agree the new head of the Council will be Vivian,” Morgana calls, looking thrilled, but unsurprised.
Two things hit me at once. First, she orchestrated my fight with Sin this afternoon. She wanted me to use my powers in order to make an impression on the rebel army leaders. Second, she just called me the head of the Council.
A wave of nausea rolls over me.
“Sin, we were just voting in the interim leader for the war. Right?” I ask mildly, even though my palms are starting to sweat.
He gives me an apologetic smile. “The head of the Council leads the war, kitten.”
My voice gets stuck in my throat. I’m pretty sure my breath does too.
Sin pulls me against him in a gentle hug. From this position, no one can see my expression. “You’re a natural leader. You’ve been doing great,” he soothes.
I pull back so he can see my disgruntled look. “You’re all insane. I don’t want the job! I have no experience.” I hiss, and small currents of purple energy escape, snapping over my arms.
He rubs them, and for everyone else, it probably looks like he’s reassuring me. But there’s a tingle where our skin meets as he dissipates my power.
“You’re perfect for the job because you care about others, and because you don’t want the job. The best leaders tend to be the ones to rise out of necessity, rather than a thirst for power,” he whispers.
“Then you should take the job!” I whisper-shout.
He grins. “You’re the people-person. Not me.
You see this crowd?” He nods over my head.
“The only reason they aren’t swarming around you is because they think I might kill them if they try.
But they’re drawn to you. Even though you made it clear today that you’re more powerful than I am, you make them feel hope. Not fear.”
“I’m still mad at you,” I huff at his fervent words, and stick my tongue out at him like the mature adult I am.
Desire flashes across his eyes. “Was that an invitation, kitten?”
A shiver of anticipation trickles down my spine, but I ignore it. I know Sin believes what he’s saying, but I’m feeling petty. After all, he did just blindside me.
“It could have been. But you just made me a queen, Sin. I’m pretty sure that means you have to share me with everyone now,” I answer, giving him a heated look as I pull away and walk into the crowd.
My internal spiraling is far from over, but sassing him makes the anxiety at least somewhat bearable.
The conclave has officially become a party. Music plays from a speaker, and some rebel army leaders have moved tables to start dancing. Everyone wants to blow off some steam before we get to business tomorrow.
I’ve finally made my way around the room, thanking people for their vote, and listening to their ideas for the war. Morgana tagged along while I did it and assured me that she wouldn’t forget a single suggestion. She’s going to transcribe them into a list for us to review in the morning.
Sin has been watching me from the corner of the room with a lazy smile. He’s been remarkably calmer since we fought this afternoon. I think he’s less worried now that he knows I can take on a Destroyer’s power.
I’m relieved that at least one good thing came from the training. Still, I didn’t appreciate the way Morgana orchestrated it behind my back.
We reach an empty corner of the room, and when no one immediately comes to talk to us, I confront her. “You tricked me into using my powers in front of the leaders.”
She gives me a look that screams ‘no shit, Sherlock.’