Thalia Thornbreak's Arc

Chapter 9 of 9

Thalia sat at the base of the dais, the clay pot warm in her palm. The court still murmured her name. Then her father raised a hand, and the hall fell quiet. A scribe stepped forward with a fresh scroll. "The objection halts the crowning," her father said. "But the priestess who wrote it may withdraw it. I have asked her to. She has agreed." He smiled. "Without the objection, my daughter takes the crown today—on my terms." Thalia's stomach dropped. If Sylvara pulled her written word, the arranged crown fell back into place. Her whole gamble would break. She turned her head and found the priestess beside her, barefoot, white hair braided with leaves, the woman whose sealed objection had held this ceremony frozen. Sylvara had warned her that her father would find a new door. Now he had found it. He meant to buy the priestess and shut the door himself. "Is it true?" Thalia whispered. "You agreed?" Sylvara did not look at her. She stood and faced the high seats. "You misheard me, my king," she said, calm as still water. "I agreed to speak. Not to withdraw." A gasp moved through the nobles. "My written word is sealed law. It cannot be pulled back. You know this. You hoped the girl did not." Thalia's father leaned forward. "Then speak, priestess. Tell the court why you object." Sylvara raised her voice so the far seats heard. "I object because a crown handed down is not earned. I have watched this one cross blocked roads and kill a beast that should have killed her. The wound on her side is real. The witness at your door is real." She pointed at Marcus, still standing dirty and bound by the far wall. "My objection stands until this court, not the king, votes her worthy. That is the only door I will open." The hall broke into noise. A vote. Not the king's word, but the court's. Thalia's father sat back, his smile gone. He had tried to force the objection shut with a bribe, and Sylvara had turned it into a demand for judgment by his own nobles. He could not overrule the priestess. He could not overrule the law he had built to bind others. Thalia pushed herself up on her blade, standing though her ribs screamed. "Then call the vote," she said. "Ask them." Her father's jaw tightened. He could not refuse before the whole court without looking the coward. "The court will convene at dawn," he said at last. "They will decide." Thalia sank back down, breathing hard. Sylvara pressed the clay pot into her hand again. "You wanted a fight no bribe could shut," she murmured. "Now you have one. But a vote can be lost as well as won. He will spend the night buying them." Thalia looked out at the whispering nobles. Her father had lost his easy trick. Now she had one night to win their voices before he bought them.