I stop when I reach the podium. The microphone—probably one of the few still in existence on this side of the world—is angled for someone much taller than me—my father. That’s why the king’s men shot him in the head—because he was that much taller than everyone else.

I try to blink away the memory of my father cradled in my arms, but when I look down, I see his blood—now dried—still discoloring the skin of my forearms.

The crowd is staring; everyone’s waiting for me. Time to get this over with.

I take the microphone from where it rests. “Over a dozen men and women of the WUN left for Geneva—only four of us have returned.” I pause to collect myself. “This blood,” I hold out my arm, “is the blood of my father, who was shot before my eyes because he would not agree to the king’s peace treaty. We know this is how the king deals with dissension.

“This is also the blood of our fallen soldiers, who died trying to help me escape.” I pace the stage. “And it is the blood of my enemies, whom I killed when they tried to capture me.”

The crowd roars. Without meaning to, I’ve worked them up into some kind of frenzy.

Fatigue sets in. I haven’t eaten or slept since we fled. “I want peace, and I was willing to pay the highest price—my own freedom.” The crowd quiets. “If you watched the negotiations, then you saw me with the king. You saw me kiss the king. You saw a traitorous woman doing what traitorous women always do, right?” There are uncomfortable murmurs in the crowd.

“Wrong,” I say. “The king has killed every one of my family members. He’s taken my friends and family from me. I hate him with every fiber of my being.

“The king wanted me—so much so that he changed his peace treaty on my behalf. He thought he’d keep me in Geneva with him. And when my father refused to let that happen …” I close my eyes and breathe slowly, “the king had him killed.”

There’s angry murmuring. People are confused, and I don’t have it in me to clarify the situation more. In fact, I don’t have much of anything left in me, period.

I place the mike back where I found it and walk off the stage. There. I’ve done it. Said what I needed to say. And now I can quietly fall apart.