“Yes. A criminal,” one of the Council members said.
Jin laughed softly. “Aren’t we all? I’m sure you’re aware that the Tribute to the Written Word is tonight.”
Seven eerie masks stared back at him, and Jin didn’t trust a single one, suddenly grateful he wasn’t here alone, acutely conscious of how alone Arthie was in the Ram’s underground bunker.
“The Ram wishes to honor the fallen members of the press in thepalace, but I was there that night. It was the Ram’s very own men who killed them.”
Three of the Council members protested his claim.
“If you’re alarmed by that,” Jin continued over them, “then I’d like to let you know that the Ram is also responsible for the humans disappearing off the streets. She has them caged.”
“Caged? That is preposterous,” one of them exclaimed.
“Are you blaming the monarch for the actions of rogue vampires?” another countered, parroting the response as if he’d read it off the newspaper folded on his desk.
Jin didn’t know how much longer he could tolerate this pretentiousness. “Oh, the Ram’s done worse, but you knew that, didn’t you? You know what our monarch is capable of, and yet you allow it.”
“Do you know who you speak to?” one of the members snapped.
“Doyouknow who you speak to?” Jin asked. “I am the son of Shaw and Sora Siwang. A pair of scientists you once applauded before the Ram stole them away for purposes you blatantly disregarded.”
Jin didn’t know if his words were true. The Council may well be unaware of the Ram’s affairs, but how ignorant could someone so close to the monarch truly be? At some point, onehadto look the other way to allow such atrocities to continue.
“Words are easy,” one of them said. “How are we to believe you are their son?”
Jin was relieved they didn’t call his parents traitors. That meant the Ram hadn’t fed them that particular lie. Just paces away, Flick wrung her hands, holding herself back from reaching for him.
“I came with a calling card you had given them.”
“And are we to believe the word of a boy over the monarch themself?” one asked.
“You don’t have to believe me,” Jin said. “You can question theRam yourself if you’d like. As an Ettenian, my duty lies in telling you, and warning you that worse might happen tonight.”
“Tame yourself, Jin,” Matteo hissed behind him. The Council members murmured among themselves.
“That sounds quite like a threat,” one of them said.
“Precisely,” Matteo whispered.
“Or a warning,” said another, glancing at his brethren. His mask had beautiful eyes.
“You take the word of a child?” asked another.
“I take the word of a troubled citizen when it concerns his empire.”
“And is that why you came?” another asked. There were indents along the bridge of the mask’s nose, making it appear as though it was studded in jewelry. “To warn us?”
Jin’s head was beginning to hurt.
“To implore you that the Ram is not the person Ettenia needs. We need a new leader. The people are divided, some scared, some brimming with hatred,” Jin said. “I want you to demand that the Ram unmasks in front of the audience tonight. If our monarch has no wrongs to keep hidden, it won’t be a difficult request to heed.”
To say this was faring poorly would be an understatement. Arthie was trusting him. After a decade, she wasn’t only trusting him to see this through, she was trusting him with herlife.
Jin could not fail.
“You’ve come to ask us to discharge the Ram of their seat of power?” the Council member in the center asked.
Jin could hear the derision in his tone, and he decided then and there that he did not need the Council. He didn’t need their snobby words and ridicule. He didn’t need Flick hurting herself any further either by trying to forge a mask.
