“But not by you.” I glanced around. “Unless you suspect one of my regents.”
“No, of course not.” Gregor cleared his throat. “We’ll find the people who did this.”
“It was done by the pirates. And King Vargan helped sneak them inside.”
Gasps followed the accusation, then Lady Orlaine asked, “Can you prove this?”
“Proving things is his job,” I said, pointing at Gregor. “He may not have told you, but earlier tonight I spoke with Vargan. He warned me that we were going to be attacked.”
“Why would he do that?” Gregor asked.
“You know why. To intimidate me into handing over our land first.”
A fact that didn’t seem to bother Gregor nearly as much as it should have. “Are you sure he said ‘attack’?” he asked. “Perhaps he meant it in another context.”
“Ah, one of the cheery definitions of the word, then?” I asked. “Such as an attack of affection, or an attack of goodwill toward Carthya? I know what I heard, Gregor.”
“What you think you heard,” Master Westlebrook, a younger regent at the far side of the table, corrected. “We cannot make any accusation based on such thin reasoning.”
Gregor leaned forward, his hands clasped on the table. “Jaron, our greatest concern, of course, is your safety. I’ve explained to your regents the threat that was made against you, and we believe we have a plan.”
“Which is?” This should be good.
Lord Termouthe picked up there. “First, we’ve agreed to give them Bevin Conner. We must make some concessions if we hope to have peace between us.”
From across the table, Gregor continued, “And of course, sire, your life must be preserved. We decided that you cannot be turned over to the pirates.”
I grinned. “A decision that probably came only after a long debate.”
I had expected some smiles at that joke, but there wasn’t even one. I cocked my head at that, wondering if there had been a debate.
“The regents believe that until the immediate threat passes, you must go into hiding,” Gregor said. “However long it takes, we will keep you safe.”
“Until when?” I was nearly at the end of my patience now. “Another four years? Or shall it be forty this time?”
Without answering, he continued, “Finally, we have to remove the motive for the pirates wanting you.” Gregor took a deep breath before this part. “I’ve proposed to the regents that they install a steward until you’re of age. If you’re not on the throne, then the pirates gain nothing by killing you.” He looked at me to respond, then with my silence added, “You may not like that idea, but it will save your life, Your Majesty.”
At the mention of a steward, my heart had stopped cold in my chest. I didn’t know where to aim the anger that had so suddenly filled me. At Kerwyn, for failing to warn me this was coming? Or Gregor, for pretending to be the most loyal of servants even as he plotted to pull me off the throne? Or myself, for giving the regents reasons to trust Gregor more than me? I settled on Gregor, because I was already annoyed with him anyway.
Then Lord Termouthe said, “Jaron, will you support this plan?”
I rapped my fingers on the armrest. “No.”
“Which part do you object to?” Gregor asked.
“The part where you began speaking.” I stood and began walking the room. “To start, we must protect Conner until I understand everything about my family’s murder. He’s our only link to the truth. The dervanis oil —”
“Conner told you that was irrelevant,” Gregor said in a raised voice. “Why this obsession with chasing shadows when the real question is how to keep the pirates out of Carthya?”
“It’s the same question!” I shouted back. “Can’t you see that it’s all connected? Something is wrong with his story!” Already, my talk with Conner had begun nagging at me. Something had happened there that I should have noticed, perhaps a message coded in his words, or in the tone of his voice. And yet the clues remained hidden.
“Nothing is wrong with his story. You’ve become so unstable, obviously the only thing wrong is with you!” Gregor paused and checked himself, then lowered his voice. “Forgive my outburst, Your Majesty. I didn’t mean that.”
But he had meant it. And from one glance at my regents, I could tell he wasn’t alone in thinking it. Only Kerwyn, standing silently in the corner, seemed to be on my side.
I swallowed my emotions, then calmly said, “You misunderstand the reasons why the pirates want my life. Whether I’m hiding or not, whether I’m king or not, they intend to finish the job Conner hired them to do four years ago. They don’t want a treaty or a trade agreement. Nothing will satisfy them but my death. This is a threat that cannot be negotiated away.”
“Negotiations always worked for your father,” Mistress Orlaine said.