The council chamber felt like it was closing in on us, with every pillar and flickering brazier made of carved stone pressing closer. I could hear the faint tick of the great clock in the hall beyond the doors, each second a hammerfall.
Gideon’s silence had become unbearable. My breathing became ragged as the masked figure leaned forward, its mask shining like polished bone and challenging him to speak.
Finally, Gideon pushed back from the table. The chair groaned, wood scraping against stone. Every eye locked on him. He didn’t look at the letter, nor at the lords bristling for blood, only at me.
“This council is right about one thing,” he said, voice rough but steady. “There is a conspiracy at work.”
The chamber stirred. Arabella’s lips curved in the faintest smile of victory.
“But y
