Chapter 27

“This Declaration is trash.” Judica throws it into the box and glares at me. “I’ll fight it to the end.”

“What about Mom’s birthday promise?” I ask. “Mom would never have wanted—”

“Then she shouldn’t have replaced the Heirship documents,” Judica says. “This is on her head.”

“It’s on her head?” I ask, practically spitting. “It’s her fault that she happened to get the documents drawn up, but not fully executed before you murdered her?” I choke up, torn between horror, despair, and a murderous rage.

“She lied to us both,” Judica says. “She named me Heir. She trained me, she promised me I would rule after her, and now that she’s gone, she’s left me with nothing.”

My laugh sounds a little crazy, even to me. “You kill Mom as some kind of a power play, and you’re upset she broke her promise to you from almost nine years ago?”

Judica lunges for me and her hands wrap around my throat. I’m so surprised that I put up no opposition and she knocks me back and pins me against the heavy wooden box with her body. Her hands squeeze my esophagus, cutting off my air.

“I won’t say it again,” she snarls in my face. “I didn’t kill her. I loved her.”

Edam pulls Judica off me and twists her arms behind her back. “Do not attack the Empress, Judica. It’s not befitting of the Heir.”

I rub my neck and speed the healing from where her hands nearly choked me to death. “Thank you, Edam.” I stand up and watch Judica struggle against him. He won’t release her hands because he knows she’ll pull a dagger and stab him.

A single tear rolls down Judica’s cheek, as surprising as water springing from a stone. “Just because you screamed and sobbed, that doesn’t mean you love her more. It means you didn’t learn a thing from her example while she was alive.”

“Wrong again,” I say. “Killing her proves you didn’t love her, and no amount of decorum, or savagery, or statesmanship will ever erase that sin.”

Edam lets Judica go and pulls the two of us close. He has one hand on my wrist and one on Judica’s. He whispers so softly that I can barely make out his words. “This is not the time or the place. You two need to talk about this, but not here, not in front of everyone. It’s past enough.”

Judica shakes his hand off of her wrist, but she whispers softly, too. “Get your hands off me, you lying—”

Edam frowns. “I never lied to you, not once.”

“It’s not that simple,” she says, choking up. I don’t know why it surprises me, but she seems more upset about Edam dumping her than she does about our mother’s death.

“Oh, boohoo for you and your little romance gone awry. Our mom’s lying right there.” My broken pieces shake at the thought, and I suck in a big breath. “Is this really the right time to play the sulky girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Edam says.

“No, I’m not,” Judica spits. “No Consort of mine would ever take her side against me.”

“Oh, please. You never gave me a choice in any of it.” His words have the ring of an old frustration.

“You didn’t have a choice?” Judica tries to whisper, but shrill sounds carry.

“No one can refuse the Heir.”

Judica’s eyelids flutter rapidly and her breath comes in shallow, rapid pulls. I almost feel sorry for her, before I remember she’s pure evil.

She raises her voice. “For crimes against the Heir, I order Edam ne’Senah ex’Alamecha’s death. The sentence will be carried out as soon as I’ve... as soon as all this,” she gestures toward me and the Charter, “is worked out.”

The guards seize Edam and he doesn’t resist, but his eyes are wounded.

“This is beyond absurd,” I say. “Your boyfriend dumps you, so you order him to be executed? Even for you, that’s a new low. And unfortunately for you, I’m Empress, not you.” I cross my arms. “I countermand your order.”

Judica addresses the guards with a voice that brooks no refusal. “Take him to the holding cells pending resolution of the line of succession. Whether I’m Heir or Empress, I certainly have the right to order a trial of someone whom I accuse.” She spins around to take in the whole room, daring them to challenge her.

The guards don’t know what to do, so they keep him restrained, but don’t take him anywhere. They glance at Balthasar, who grunts and looks from me to Judica and back. “Take him down. We can deal with it later.”

“No,” I say. “You all heard Larena. I’m the new Empress, and all Edam did was take steps to ensure my safety. He will not be punished for those actions.”

Before anyone else can speak, Melisania Lenora, Empress of the Third Family steps forward, a sparkling crown atop her curly mass of hair. “Things are obviously a little confusing right now. You’re lucky we’re all here to help. You two are grief stricken. We’ll convene a court of the Five, evaluate the evidence available on the circumstances surrounding your mother’s death, and vote on which of you will ascend the throne.” Melisania turns to Adika and begins issuing more orders.

“Wouldn’t you love that?” Judica barks. “To see the First Family thrown into turmoil and choose which of us rises?”

She’s right. Five sets of eyes bore into me when I glance around the room, none of them friendly. Every other family sees this situation as an opportunity, and they’ve wanted nothing more than to tear us apart and gobble up the pieces for thousands of years. If we allow it, they’ll be dividing our lands among themselves like a brokered deal in a game of Risk by the end of the day.

Judica wrenches the ring from her hand and holds it out to me. I don’t reach for it, much less grab it.

“Take it.”

“I don’t even want it.” But my sister needs to pay, so I snatch it from her hand.

I’m shocked Judica’s willing to hand the throne over to protect it. I didn’t expect that kind of selflessness. I wait for the trick, the double cross, the sting in the tail.

She raises her voice and spreads her hands in front of her so everyone will hear. “While we appreciate the kind and considerate concern of the Five Families in this time of deepest grief for Alamecha, we respectfully decline your invitation to convene a court on our behalf. The First Family will handle this on its own. Chancery Divinity Alamecha is our new Empress, named by our mother in the seconds before she died, and attested to by several others. I will voluntarily rescind any claim I had to the throne.”

“Now do your part to show them we can work this out,” Judica mutters. “Tell them to take Edam below.”

If Judica can accept me as Empress peacefully, Edam can spend a night in a cell.

“Take Edam below,” I say. I can always free him after everyone leaves tomorrow.

Judica smiles. “Please respect our grief and return to your rooms.”

The guests slowly filter out, hesitant to leave in the middle of the show. Eventually only our guards, Job, Balthasar, Inara, Larena, and a few other Alamecha people are left.

Judica turns to me with the smile that portends the reveal of her plan.

“But of course, if I deem you unfit to rule. . .”

I finally understand.

She’s okay with me being Empress, since that leaves her as my Heir, one of the two categories of people who can challenge an empress at any time. Oh Mom, what were you thinking?

Judica says, “Mother may have temporarily lost her mind, but it’s reparable.” She meets my eye, searching for something in my face.

I wish I knew for sure whether she killed Mom.

Judica’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “Chancery Divinity Alamecha, I formally challenge you to a Duel of Ascendance to determine who rules family Alamecha.”

How did I not see that knife coming?

“I’ll allow us both the night to recover and to honor Mother’s wish, but in the morning, we settle this.” Judica glances one last time at Mom’s body and strides out of the massive doors.

I glance around the room at the faces of the people I’ve known my entire life. None of them will meet my eye, which means they expected this. I really am a bumbler, too weak and too stupid to rule. If I can’t even predict the actions of my twin sister, the most predictable person in my life, how can I possibly lead our entire family?

I doubt I could have screwed this up any worse if I’d tried. Edam’s imprisoned for sparing me, the Five will be plotting their attack on our family on their flights home, Lark’s hiding in New York without a mother, and Cookie and Mom are both dead.

And my options tomorrow morning are to murder my sister or die by her hand.

I cross the room and kneel in front of Mom’s body. I lean toward her and whisper into her hair, “I tried Mom, I really did. I’m so sorry I let you down, but that stupid stadium obviously chose wrong.”