Chapter Nineteen The Covenant
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Covenant
Anya entered the Fifth Trial furious enough to be excellent. This was becoming a pattern. Thirty-four candidates remained.
The Covenant paired them in groups of three with Lucen for thirty-minute governance crises. Each group had to advise him on a decision. Judges scored collaboration, political judgment, and compatibility.
Anya's group included Mirel and Tarin. Of course.
The scenario: a border province had refused a new grain levy after crop failure. The Crown could enforce collection, reduce the levy and cut military supply, or borrow from private merchants at punishing interest.
Lucen sat across the table in a plain black uniform.
He did not look at Anya.
Good.
She did not want him to.
"Candidate Dane?" he asked.
Mirel answered first.
"Reduce the levy by forty percent, issue Crown bonds to cover military shortfall, and cap private grain prices temporarily."
"Bond market is already strained," Lucen said.
"Then restructure existing freight subsidies."
He nodded.
"Candidate Vol?"
Tarin leaned back.
"Send the army to protect storehouses, not collect them. If people are hungry enough to refuse tax grain, soldiers taking food will create rebels faster than hunger does."
Lucen's gaze sharpened.
"And the military supply?"
"Feed soldiers less."
Mirel almost smiled.
"Candidate Serrin?"
Anya looked directly at him.
"The scenario is false."
A judge shifted. Lucen's expression did not change.
"Explain."
"It assumes the levy, military supply, and private borrowing are the only variables. Where are the royal reserve stores?"
"Committed."
"To what?"
"Not provided."
"Then I won't advise."
One judge frowned.
"Candidate, you must choose among available options."
Anya turned toward the judge.
"That is how governments manufacture consent. Present three bad choices and call selecting one responsibility."
Public reaction bars climbed. She ignored them. Lucen watched her now.
"Suppose," he said, "you cannot obtain the reserve data in time. People need an answer today."
"Then I choose temporary levy suspension and emergency local procurement with repayment guarantees."
"Not an option."
"It is now."
"By whose authority?"
"Yours, apparently. That's the point of having a prince in the room."
A few audience members laughed. Lucen did not.
He looked at her with something like pride. Anya hated that it mattered. The scenario shifted.
Riots began in the provincial capital. Mirel proposed opening granaries. Tarin proposed withdrawing tax officers.
Anya asked who owned the warehouses. The judges grew visibly annoyed. Lucen kept asking harder questions. Not rescuing her. Not attacking.
Treating her as if her answers deserved pressure.
By the end, they had constructed a plan none of the provided choices contained: suspend levy, audit reserves, open emergency grain stores, redeploy troops to distribution security, and convene local councils for ration oversight.
The judges scored it low for procedural compliance.
The public scored it highest of the day. Anya's overall lead widened. She wanted to scream.
Afterward, candidates gathered in the waiting hall.
Tarin was called back to the stage. Anya frowned.
"Why?"
Mirel checked the schedule.
"Special review."
Ten minutes later, a screen lit. Director Kelm appeared beside Tarin.
"Candidate Tarin Vol has been found in violation of Trial disclosure requirements. Her pre-draft criminal sentence was incompletely reported. Under Article Twenty-One, she is disqualified from protected Crown-service eligibility and removed from competition."
Anya stood.
"No."
Sela grabbed her arm. Onscreen, Tarin's face went blank.
"My sentence was in my state file," she said.
Kelm continued as if she had not spoken.
"Because removal occurs after the Third Measure and involves a compliance violation, Candidate Vol is assigned to External Civic Service pending review."
Forfeiture. The Wastes.
Tarin looked directly into the camera.
"You knew about the sentence when you drafted me."
The feed cut. The waiting hall erupted.
Anya tore free from Sela and headed for the stage doors. Guards blocked her.
"Move."
"Candidate Serrin—"
"She was drafted from a work barracks. The Crown knew."
Kelm emerged from the side corridor.
"Return to candidate holding."
"You changed her eligibility after she shared regulation information."
"Her file contained a discrepancy."
"That discrepancy existed before the Trials."
"Candidate Serrin."
"You kept her until now because she had retention value, then you used the same sentence you already knew about to Forfeit her."
Kelm's face hardened.
"Return. Now."
Anya saw Lucen beyond him.
He had come off the stage. Their eyes met. Do something, she thought. Maybe her face said it. Lucen approached.
"Director, delay transport until legal review."
Kelm stiffened.
"The ruling is final."
"Nothing involving External Service is final without appeal."
Senn appeared behind Lucen.
"Appeal does not stay transfer."
Lucen turned.
"It can by royal order."
"Not during active Trial jurisdiction."
"Then I suspend her Trial jurisdiction."
Senn's eyes cooled.
"On what authority?"
Lucen did not answer quickly enough. Everyone saw it.
The Crown prince had less power than the Trial regulation. Senn stepped closer.
"Candidate Vol will be transferred according to law."
Anya moved before she thought.
She stepped between Tarin and the guards escorting her from the side door.
"No."
Tarin looked at her.
"Anya."
"No."
The cameras swung toward them. Senn's voice went low.
"Move aside, Candidate Serrin."
Anya thought of her mother. Nemi. The housing threat. Deliberate noncompliance. Forfeiture. Then Tarin touched her arm.
"Don't give them two."
Tarin's face was calm.
"You stay," she said quietly. "Make it expensive."
Anya's throat closed. The guards took Tarin. She did not resist. The doors shut behind her.
For the first time since the Trials began, Anya did not care whether she won or lost.
She cared whether the machine survived her.