The crowd cheered, ready to be done with the years of absolute terror. When they had all but quieted down, one brave soul shouted out above the crowd, “Justice for the Eastoffes!” and the cry went up again.

At this, Quinten, whose head had been low under the blows of losing his wife, his son, and his throne in one fell swoop, stood up straight, raising a hand. “I will admit that I have done plenty of things over the years some might call criminal. I’m sure that, very soon, I will be forced to tell a committee all about them. But the Eastoffes’ blood is not on my hands.”

I felt the tension in Scarlet’s body change completely through the touch of her hand, and Mother staggered a breath before calling out, “Liar!”

“No, no,” Quinten insisted. “Did I have Valentina’s family killed? Yes. It had to happen. Lord Erstwhell, Lord Swithins . . . a whole family on the coast . . . I’ve had so many people killed in the name of my own peace, I can’t count them. But Sir Eastoffe? That upstart Silas?” He shook his head. “I can’t take credit for that.”

We stood silently. I clutched the rings at my throat. He admitted to his crimes so easily. Why would he deny this one . . . unless he was telling the truth?

“If you didn’t, then who did?” Scarlet demanded.

“Took me a while to figure it out myself,” Quinten said. For the multitudes standing before us, we might have been able to hear a pin fall to the ground for how quietly and intently we were all listening to find the truth behind their deaths. “But it all makes sense now. If you want to know, you should ask her.”

And I froze in horror as Quinten tipped his chin at me.

Thirty

“HOW DARE YOU?” I SHOUTED, nearly dizzy with anger. “I loved Silas! I have nothing to do with his death!”

“Oh, but you do, dear girl. You have everything to do with it.” Quinten spoke so calmly. “Don’t mistake me. I was relieved to find out the Eastoffe line was all but dead, but I didn’t know it had happened until you walked into my palace and told me about it.”

“I still don’t understand,” I rasped, hysterical tears threatening to take over in the midst of such a wild accusation. “I didn’t kill Silas.”

He smiled at me cruelly. “Can you not think of anyone in this world who would want that boy dead more than I would?”

The edges of my vision went blurry as my body started shaking. Yes. Yes, I could think of someone who would want Silas Eastoffe dead.

“Jameson,” I whispered.

After I uttered the word aloud, the people in the crowd picked it up, whispering to one another, carrying it until everyone knew.

Of course it was Jameson. It explained so much. Why no one in Isolte had heard about the Eastoffes’ dying in the first place. Why he knew to send my widow’s fund so quickly.