Unsatisfied, he straightened his back and continued circling the room like a vulture.

“Since the beginning of his reign, something has been . . . off about Quinten, though the outright attacks on Isoltens who dare to oppose him only started happening in the last decade or so. He oughtn’t be king, and our family is searching for the right way to go about removing him.”

I squinted as I pulled the thread taut. “If a king is truly awful, isn’t there usually a revolt? Don’t people just get angry and take the castle?”

She sighed. “One would think. But, as a Coroan, I know you understand when I say that Isolte is a land of laws. Quinten’s disposition leads us to believe he’s pulling the strings behind every awful thing that’s ever happened in Isolte, and he’s certainly never done anything to contradict the notion. But . . . what if we’re wrong? What if it’s some lone vigilante? What if it’s Hadrian, who has no means of physically protecting himself, using others to knock opponents down? What if it’s some group of rogues acting on their volition? Attempting to overthrow a king without just cause is against the law, but the act of doing so with just cause is lawful. If we could only catch him in action, we would have the proof we need. We would have the support of thousands of years of edicts and commandments behind us and, once we spread the truth widely, the support of the people at large. Without that, we’d be seen as lawless usurpers. . . . Anything we attempted would be unmade as quickly as we built it.”

“So, that’s the problem? No one’s ever seen him with their own eyes making an order or drawing a sword?” I asked.

Etan’s footsteps clearly fell behind me, then became quieter as he walked down the length of the room. I took a breath, feeling much calmer without him over my shoulder.

She nodded. “And if anyone could figure out a way to do it, it’s those two. Sharpest minds of us all when it comes to plans.”

“Well then, at least we’re in good hands. I’m just happy nothing like that is up to me! I don’t have that kind of talent.”

She smiled. “You have talents all your own, Hollis. I’ve seen them in action. And that’s what matters. We all must use everything we have to make a difference.”

“Indeed.” I looked across the room at Etan. Silas had sworn Etan was talented himself. I knew him to be a soldier, and he seemed calm under pressure. He lacked many other admirable qualities—kindness being at the top of the list—but I couldn’t deny he had a quick mind. That didn’t make me admire him, though.

He downed the last of his drink and set his cup down so loud it rang throughout the room, drawing my attention whether I wanted to give it to him or not. His eyes studied me. There was something about his glare that chilled me through and through. In a single look Etan Northcott made it shockingly clear that he hated me—and was desperate to see me gone.