escorted me from my rooms.
I hadn’t seen Taelon, either, since he’d saved my life. He was supposed to present the Crown of Nine yesterday, but they hadn’t called him to witness. Despite my uncle’s claims that yesterday would be the last day of trial, we had resumed this morning.
Today, Tyrn had announced Conandra would conclude no matter what—that the sovereigns would make their final decisions. I would have my answer, one way or the other, by supper.
So maybe Tyrn was right. The more information they collected, the better chance I had. I cleared my throat and held my head high. “During my journey, I accidentally ran into the rebel army. We established a truce of sorts. They aided my journey and protected me from the Ring of Shadows.”
Cries of, “The rebel army!” echoed around the room. The royals and their courtiers assumed the rebels were as bad as the Shadows.
Part of me wanted to denounce the rebels at once. If I took the council’s opinion, then the conversation about the rebel army could be short. I could exaggerate the parts of the story where they’d imprisoned me and paint the Tenovian and Soravalian armies as though they’d saved me from great harm. Except integrity would never let me get away with that.
I had to be honest with them while maintaining Taelon’s secret identity. “They saved my life,” I swore to the council. “And I watched them save a village from fires that would have killed a hundred Tenovians. Fires set by the Ring of Shadows. I witnessed as they rescued a merchant family. Despite what you think about the Rebel Army, they are doing good things in the realm. Often, they step in when the royal army has been commanded to do nothing. They fight for the kingdom when no one else will.”
Vorestra’s king, Akio Bayani, laughed. “Are you standing up for the Rebel Army?”
“I’m merely suggesting that they are not as bad as the Ring of Shadows and that my time with them was not compromised by any misdeeds. In fact, they took me as far west as they could before the Soravalian army intervened.”
Tyrn’s head snapped toward Hugo. “The Soravalian army knew you were on the road? With the Crown?”
“No,” I countered. “They came upon me quite accidentally.”
“Then who were they looking for?” Tyrn demanded.
“Me.” The voice broke through the chatter in the room and hit me straight in my back. Directly in my spine.
Taelon Treskinat, Crown Prince of Soravale.
Arrick Westnovian, the Rebel King.
My eyes were only on Taelon as he pushed past guards and members of court. Dressed in all black, with his familiar cape clasped around his neck, he looked more like the rebel commander than royalty.
He ran a hand through his wild hair, but it did nothing to tame the locks. My gaze fell to his mud-covered boots.
Where had he been? Had he only just arrived?
“Well, Hugo, your witness has finally arrived after holding up court for nearly three days.” Tyrn’s accusations only stoked my curiosity. I tore my eyes away from Taelon to witness the council’s reaction.
“Forgive us, Your Majesty,” Taelon interjected. He swept into a low bow. “We would have been here a day earlier had we not been detained at the wall by your guards. For some reason they were under the impression that I was not to be allowed back through.”
Tyrn’s face turned a mottled red. “And yet here you are. They must have come to their senses eventually.”
Taelon’s smile flashed with promise. “I’m afraid they are too easily swayed by gold. For the right amount I dare say they would let anyone pass through the gates.”
Tyrn slammed his hand down on the armrest of his throne. “My guards are not the ones on trial, Taelon Treskinat. Does your presence have a point?”
Taelon’s gaze flickered to mine. “It most certainly does.”
A lone butterfly glided through my chest.
“Then out with it, prince,” my uncle demanded. “Conandra has dragged on long enough.”
“Agreed,” Taelon said. He stepped to the side and two other men joined him. Two men that I recognized instantly—Gunter Creshnika and Eret, one of the commanders from the Rebel Army.
What was he doing? If Taelon exposed himself as the rebel commander, Tyrn would have him hanged for anarchy and crimes against the crown.
“My associates,” Taelon went on. “This is Eret Grimsayer, commander of the Rebel Army.” The assembled crowd exploded with outrage. Taelon spoke louder, “And Gunter Creshnika, leader of the Cavolia.”
The voices grew louder. People shouted at Taelon’s guests, calling