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She did watch her parents murdered in front of her. She’s got the weight of the entire country’s hopes and security on her shoulders.
How could anyone not start to buckle under the pressure?
But who could take her place if she totally crumbles?
I swallow thickly, searching for the right thing to say. My own doubts swell in my chest.
Scourge sorcerers ravaged this continent once before. Taking them down turned into even more of a calamity. So many people died.
The divinities abandoned those like me, one of whom must be a distant ancestor of mine—cast us aside to be feared and hated by the rest of society.
Who is Petra to set the current catastrophe right? Who am I to decide that she should?
For a second, my awareness of all the history looming behind us and the uncertain future spread out ahead suffocates me. My lungs constrict.
I look down at the sword, the gleam of the newly polished blade. My reflection wavers on the metal surface.
Who are any of us to make any of these decisions? We’re all just people… but we have to do something. If no one steps up, then the whole world falls to pieces.
Or into the hands of psychopaths like Lothar.
“Some people might have their doubts about your family’s past reign,” I say carefully. “But I don’t think they’d see the real Lothar as a better option. They were horrified when they found out how the scourge sorcerers had used Poltus.”
Petra lifts her gaze and offers me a tight smile. “I know. And I know I can at least be better than him. I just want to be more for the country than the only not-awful alternative they have.”
She still looks uncertain, but my own doubts ease. That statement right there is exactly why I’d want this woman to be our queen.
My mind wanders back to the shouts of the crowd in Tupno yesterday. All the talk about worthy rulers… The Order of the Wild has had a lot to say on that subject too, haven’t they?
I tap the tabletop thoughtfully. “You know… Lothar and his followers have been going on about the old kingship trials. Talking about rulers proving their worth—and obviously the common people are starting to buy into their rhetoric now too. What if we could use that idea for ourselves?”
Petra knits her brow, but a glimmer of interest lights in her eyes. “How do you mean?”
“I don’t think most people really want us to go back to some distant past, but they like the general idea of their rulers meeting a challenge. There could be some way we can give them what they think they want but designed to fit the world we’re in now. Make a new legacy. A version of trials that’s our own—not so vicious or deadly, but still showing your strength. Give them a demonstration of your capability as a ruler. Show that you’re willing to take risks to earn their favor, that you’re more than the name you were born with.”
For both them and herself.
Petra cocks her head as she takes that in. “That might actually be?—”
She’s interrupted by a crash of breaking pottery from the hall outside. With a lurch of my heart, I spring to the doorway.
Filip is standing just a few paces away, holding up his hands and staring down at the fragments of a vase that’s shattered on the floor.
The Order defector glances up at me, his face sallow. “I didn’t mean—I bumped into it and tried to catch it, but the glaze was so slippery?—”
He just happened to bump into one of the temple’s decorations while right outside a room where the future queen was having a strategic conversation? All my past suspicions come rushing back to the front of my mind.
What are the chances he was merely taking a stroll rather than purposefully eavesdropping?
Petra has appeared at my side. She takes in the scene and responds much more gracefully than I’d have managed. “That’s a shame. It was a lovely piece.”
Filip wrings his hands. “Gods, how old was it? The devouts are probably going to be furious with me.” His frantic gaze darts to me. “Unless… you could fix it, couldn’t you? With your magic? Good as new?”
He looks so genuinely desperate that some of my hostility fades. My magic quivers in my chest, but I clamp down on it firmly.
“I don’t think putting a vase back together is worth trading a little sanity for,” I say evenly. “But it shouldn’t be a big problem. We’ll go tell Delfis so he knows what happened. Petra and I can confirm that it was an accident. I don’t think he’ll be angry.”
Petra nods. “Absolutely not. Accidents do happen. It’s only a vase.”
