“I don’t need to be,” she answered. Han stiffened beside her, but if he could exaggerate, so could she.
Brine sighed. “I’m fast losing my patience.”
“You must depose Chen,” Lilette said, “and put Han in his place.”
“And how are we to do that?” Brine asked brusquely. “We do not have a standing army.”
“You don’t need one. Cut off Harshen’s rains until they release our witches and dispose of Chen.”
Brine studied her. “What is your name, Empress, and how do you know so much of us?”
“She’s a witch.” Merlay’s face was drawn. The other three Heads stared at Lilette.
“My name is Lilette. I was shipwrecked in Harshen as a child.”
Tawny and Garen exchanged hushed whispers, while Merlay looked as if she might be sick.
Good. They’d heard of her. Hopefully that would help.
“So it’s true,” Garen breathed. “Harshen really did sink our ship and . . . kill your parents.”
Lilette fought the memory, but it welled up from deep within her, drowning her with images she wished she could banish forever. “Elite boarded our ship. My mother and I barricaded ourselves in the captain’s cabin. I was very young—only eight. We set the ship afire to hide our escape.” Her mother was crying. Her father was dead. The ship was burning too fast, flames licking her mother’s feet. The smoke was so thick Lilette couldn’t breathe.
“My mother shoved me in a pickle barrel.” Then she’d kissed Lilette, her lips damp with tears or sweat or both. Stuffed so tight into a pickle barrel she could barely move, her eyes stinging with a mixture of smoke and vinegar vapors. “There was an explosion.” Careening through the air before slamming into the water.
“My mother didn’t make it.” The imperial soldiers had found her body, had pulled her into their boat. But they hadn’t found Lilette. The next day, she’d managed to escape the barrel, though she’d nearly drowned in the process. She’d sung herself a current and spent two days at sea before Fa had found her and taken her in. Years later, that kindness had been repaid with death and destruction.
The silence in the room finally pulled Lilette out of her memories. Witches and guardians had gathered around her as she’d spoken.
Brine waved them away. “The meeting is cancelled. We’ll resume again tomorrow.” But no one made a move to leave.
“So it was you our listeners heard.” Garen had a different accent from the rest—it sounded warm and rolling. She turned to the other Heads. “But why didn’t they find her earlier?”
“Back to the matter at hand,” Brine said. “Deposing Chen and letting his brother take his place does little to satisfy justice.”
“What about mercy?” Lilette asked.
Brine’s steel-gray eyes flashed. “And what mercy did Chen and his murderer of a father show the seventeen witches and thirty-eight guardians who are now dead or imprisoned by Harshen hands—let alone your parents and the guardians killed years ago?”
Lilette stared at her. “How did you expect Harshen to react when you brought Vorlay’s ships to their door? They were only protecting themselves!” Why was she standing up for Harshen?
Brine shot to her feet. “We did no such thing!”
Lilette eyed her. “You did. I know it, and every one of the witches with me knows it.” She looked pointedly at Jolin.
Her friend cleared her throat. “It’s true.”
Brine turned to the others. “Did any of you do this?”
The other three Heads vehemently denied it.
“Tawny, have your listeners felt someone singing illicitly?” Brine asked.
“Of course not!”
Brine’s gaze slowly swung back to Lilette, but the Head of Water gestured to one of the wastrels. “Interview the returning witches—all of them. Now. I want reports delivered in batches of ten.”
The woman hastily wrote something before darting away. Brine steepled her fingers and stared at Lilette.
“Brine—” Merlay began.
“Silence,” she said, her tone brokering no argument. “In times of war, I lead. If Lilette and Jolin are telling the truth, some other force is at play, perhaps skewing our perceptions. I will hold private council with the guardians.” Brine rose to her feet.
Han took a step toward her. “If your witches are still alive—if we can get them back—will you negotiate peace?”
Brine’s cool gaze settled on him. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple, Prince. Your father’s actions have made us look vulnerable. In order to prevent things like this from happening in the future, we must have a decisive show of strength now.”