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to be queen.”
    â€œThere must have been another way!” he repeated.
    â€œIt was the best way for all our people.”
    â€œHow do you even know there were traitors—”
    She cut him off again. “I have ways, Ven. Ears in places you can’t imagine. Voices that whisper to me on the wind. There are no secrets that are safe from me.”
    He quit pacing and stared at her again. “You’re using the spirits to spy on your people?” This was getting worse and worse. If people knew . . . “Why are you telling me this? You know I won’t approve. Can’t approve. What you did . . . it was outside of your promises to the Crown. You know I can’t allow you to do this ever again. The council must be told, and they will rule—”
    â€œYou will not tell them,” Queen Fara said.
    â€œFara, I’m sorry, but I must.”
    â€œYou don’t have the right to call me that anymore.”
    More softly, he said, “Your Majesty. Can’t you see what you are doing is wrong? Using the spirits to spy on your own people? Using them as weapons against your own people?” Rot beneath the veneer, he thought.
    She laughed, a brittle sound that was devoid of even a shred of humor. “You ask why I told you: I hoped you’d understand. Oh, Ven, I hoped you’d stand beside me, that we’d be as we once were. I hoped you’d see the need for silence.”
    No . Ven didn’t believe her. It didn’t make sense, and he believed strongly in things making sense. If that was her goal, she’d never have confessed to something she knew he’d find abhorrent. She’d never have told him she was responsible for all those deaths. . . . He thought of that family again, of the look in the littlest girl’s eyes, and he couldn’t imagine what Fara’s game was or why she was trying to manipulate him. What he did know was that whenhe came bearing tales of death and horror, he expected a different response, especially since he did not believe either that the villagers were traitors or that she’d intentionally caused their deaths. “If you value what we were at all, don’t lie to me.”
    Her false smile faded. “The truth then? I cannot allow you to speak to the council. What happened in Greytree was a tragedy—a random, isolated accident—and it must stay exactly that. It cannot be linked to me, and you must never suggest to anyone, much less the council, that my power is failing. It is not, and to bring a formal accusation . . . Raising such doubts about me would have catastrophic repercussions.”
    â€œI have a duty to Aratay, to the council, to the throne—”
    â€œTo me!”
    â€œTo our people!”
    â€œThen you give me no choice. I must discredit you. Champion Ven, you are hereby stripped of your seat on the Council of Champions. You are exiled from the palace, in full disgrace, with all rights to a private audience with the queen suspended.”
    He’d thought he’d seen enough of the world that he couldn’t be shocked—he, Ven, one of the Queen’s Champions, was supposed to be hard and experienced, or at least bitter and jaded—but he felt like a just-born chick caught in the talons of a hawk, too stunned to even squawk. He hadn’t committed any crime. He’d never betrayed his queen, even when he disagreed with her, even now. She couldn’t—
    â€œI will tell the council that you became distraught and attacked me,” she continued, “after I rejected your attempts to rekindle our romance. Any attempt you make to speak against me will be dismissed as the bitter rantings of an ex-lover. You will have no credibility with the other champions or anyone. Between what’s known of our past history and the testimony of the guards who witnessed your violent attack on my royal person, everyone will believe me, and peace