“The truth doesn’t matter. Everyone believes what the church tells them. They said you’re a witch, so that makes it so. Look at Modina. The Patriarch proclaims that she’s the Heir of Novron, so everyone believes. I should have never made an enemy of the church. But between Saldur’s betrayal and their sentinel killing Fanen, I just couldn’t bring myself to bend my knee.

“When I evicted the priests and forbade Deacon Tomas from preaching about what happened in Dahlgren, the people revolted. They set shops in Gentry Square on fire. I could see the flames from my window, for Maribor’s sake. The whole city could have burned. They were calling for my head—people right in front of the castle burning stuffed images of me and shouting, ‘Death to the godless king!’ Can you imagine that? Just a few years ago they were calling me a hero. People toasted to my health in every tavern, but now … well, it’s amazing how fast they can turn on you. I had to use the army to restore order.” Alric reached up and pulled his crown off, turning the golden circlet over in his hands.

“I was in Alburn at the court of King Armand when I heard about that,” Arista said, shaking her head.

Alric laid the crown on the arm of the throne, closed his eyes, and softly banged his head against the back of the chair. “What are we going to do, Arista? The Imperialists will return. As soon as they deal with Gaunt’s rabble, the army will come back.” His eyes opened and his hand drifted absently toward his throat. “I suppose they’ll hang me, won’t they? Or do they use the axe on kings?” His tone was one of quiet acceptance, which surprised her.

The carefree boy she had once known was vanishing before her eyes. Even if the New Empire failed and Melengar stood strong, Alric would never be the same. In many ways, their uncle had managed to kill him after all.

Alric looked at the crown sitting on the chair’s arm. “I wonder what Father would do.”

“He never had anything like this to deal with. Not since Tolin defeated Lothomad at Drondil Fields has any monarch of Melengar faced invasion.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky us.”

Alric nodded. “At least we’ve got some time now. That’s something. What do you think of Pickering’s idea to send the Ellis Far down the coast to Tur Del Fur and contact the Nationalist leader—this Gaunt fellow?”

“Honestly, I think establishing an alliance with Gaunt is our only hope. Isolated, we don’t stand a chance against the empire,” Arista agreed.

“But the Nationalists? Are they any better than the Imps? They’re as opposed to monarchies as much as the empire. They don’t want to be ruled at all.”