“I was.” I nod. “I was raised Unanedig, which means I know what you all look like from the outside. This isn’t about the war. This isn’t even about your refusal to hand the crown over to someone you don’t know, because you didn’t know Nick, either. Not really. If Nick were the Crown Scion, even with his father’s betrayal,” I ask, “would he have already been crowned?”

“Yes!” Serren asserts, as if it’s obvious. “Because Nicholas would be able to control his abilities! Forge the weapons needed!”

“He’d have needed time to adapt to Arthur’s inheritances,” I retort, “just like any other Awakened Scion. And you would have given him that time. If control was the issue for Nick, you would have sent aid right away—a Master Merlin to teach him, or a Liege—but for me you didn’t. You didn’t even try to help me! This isn’t because you fear my root either; Cestra just said that it only appears when I am in mortal danger—which should be a good thing for a Scion of Arthur.” I shake my head. “This isn’t about me being a danger to others. It’s about you all preventing power from going to someone you don’t think should have it.”

“What does—”

“The Line is Law!” I sneer, teeth bared. “Y llinach yw’r ddeddf.”

Gabriel seethes. “It is not that simple—”

“It is that simple. It has been that simple for centuries,” I say, fist tight on the table. “I wasn’t raised in your world, but I know that following the bloodlines is the most sacred rule you have. There are fifteen hundred years of one non-negotiable, unbreakable truth: the one who pulls the sword becomes king. That is the law.” I glare at them all, one at a time. “Unless she looks like me.”

“This is outrageous,” Aldrich says, face paling. “As you said yourself, you were not raised in our world. You were raised without our—our customs,” Aldrich insists, placing his hands on the table. “This is not about—about race.”

I laugh icily. “When white people say something’s ‘not about race,’ it’s usually because it is and they don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Excuse me?” Cestra sneers.

“Excuse yourself,” I sneer back. “It was about race to Lord Davis, but at least he had the decency to admit it to my face instead of”—I jerk my chin at the room, the screen, the camera—“all of this!”

Aldrich’s face has gone slack. “You do not know what you’re talking about, child.”

Anger and shame burn me up inside. I should have known. I should have known better. I did know better… I just… they wanted me to forget what else was at stake here. What’s always at stake. I inhale a shaky breath. Try to keep my voice from breaking.