“Thank you,” I said after a moment. I knew this part: the waiting, the working myself up to speaking, and the weight of expectation that clung to my words. “Although the Mira Treaty was named after me, I think it’s fair to say that the treaty shaped the course of my life. For seventeen years, I believed in the treaty—the intentions behind those compassionate words, the hope for the future, and the promise that my generation would inherit a better world. That faith was never shaken until the day I was imprisoned for trying to uphold the ideals set forth in the treaty.” Everyone in the room went quiet, some with confusion, some with knowing. “Allow me to explain.

“In addition to uniting the Fallen Isles and ensuring equality among our people, the treaty was meant to protect dragons, the children of our gods. But when I found evidence of corruption—someone sending dragons where they didn’t belong—I was imprisoned in the Pit. Tortured. Made to see others tortured.” I glanced up at Aaru, heart twisting inside my chest. “It was there, in the Pit, I first began to untangle the truths of the Mira Treaty.

“First, I was told the treaty sold the Fallen Isles to the Algotti Empire; my father, the architect of the treaty, confirmed this. But that was merely another layer of an even more complex lie. The truth is that the Mira Treaty bent all the Fallen Isles to one island: Anahera.

“Years before High Magistrate Paorah was elected to his office, he worked to bring the Mira Treaty to life, even as he claimed to oppose it. He did this to lend him credit for the day he declared the treaty useless—and then slaughtered the girl who was pretending to be me.”

In the gallery where the islanders stood, a few people shifted with discomfort. Many of them had witnessed that murder.

“High Magistrate Paorah manipulated everyone, without caring that it would damn hundreds of thousands of people once he got what he wanted: dragons, noorestones, ships, and desperation. That is how you all”—I gestured to the Fallen Isles gallery—“and those aboard our ships ended up here, attacking the very people who wanted to help us.

“Everyone who signed the Mira Treaty in the belief that it was the only way to avoid a long, bloody war—they were all betrayed. And in turn, they betrayed the rest of us. By accepting a lie. By creating a new lie. By not standing up for what was right when they had the chance.”

Eka and Dara glanced at each other.

“We are all given a voice,” I said. “Some naturally louder and stronger than others, some artificially given more weight. Like mine. You gave me this voice. You tried to deny it when I used it as I saw fit. But here I am. Alive. Speaking. I hope you’re listening at last.”

Uncertain quiet followed, and then Empress Apolla looked at me thoughtfully. “Is that all you want to say?”