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Reforming the capitalistic, patriarchal nonsense had been grueling. It’d taken centuries. Only in the last few hundred years did it begin to feel like the type of land I was proud to rule.

And now it was gone. We’d worked so hard, and it was all gone.

I was wrong. Looking at the images of Matriaza and Morduaine in the pictures hurt equally.

“Looks like we’re all here,” Véa murmured, looking up and down the table.

I did the same. Each seat was taken by whomever usually sat in it. The only empty one was Lux’s in the far-right corner.

“Very well,” Araton—my cousin—said, eyes drifting down the table. “Has anyone spoken with him?”

“Not since he showed to tell me,” Véa said. “Anyone else?”

Everyone shook their heads.

“Probably too ashamed to show his face,” Hana said.

“It’s ironic to assume the prick’s capable of feeling shame,” I said under my breath.

She frowned. “I doubt he’s proud of what he’s done, Nix.”

“He wasn’t ashamed enough to learn his lesson when he did it to Matriaza.” Venark’s green eyes glowed. “Sorry, mi lim. You can’t convince me he feels guilty for this.”

“I agree.” Brynn, my mother-in-law, stood. “If he were ashamed, he would’ve been where we were, searching for survivors. We had three people capable of seeing souls. His hands were needed, and he was nowhere to be found.”

“I’m not defending him,” Hana said. “I only mean that if I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t be bold enough to show my face to all of us either. Like Lux, I would’ve gone to Véa.”

“Aye, because I’m justsosympathetic.” Véa’s eyes were glowing at Hana now too. “Because… why? I’m supposed to feel bad for him? I’m supposed to—”

“Because you were alone. He knew I was with Nix, and if he showed, Nix would’ve killed him.”

Accurate.

“Does this even matter?” Lapsus leaned over the table, brown eyes flicking between those of us who were arguing. He tended to be the calm voice when things exploded, and that was no different now. “Wherever he is, hisfeelings,aren’t relevant. Let’s deal with Lux another time.”

“And what would you like to focus on at the moment?” Emja shot him a look, brown eyes the most vicious I’d ever seen them. “Because I would like to go find the bastard and bring his insides out.”

“I’m not opposed to that,” Elira spoke. “But Lapsus is right. Let’s deal with Lux and his punishment later. As it is now, we have two colossal problems on our hands that need solving.”

“Which are?” Neia asked.

“The maalaichte cnihme know,” Pa said, tone more level than the rest of us. “They know we’re playing them.”

I began with, “We can’t be sure of—”

“It’s all that makes sense, and you know it,” he said. “If the rulers of both Matriaza and Morduaine betrayed us, if they made an accord with them to only let us bring a few thousand people back when the war comes, that agreement was madeafterthe treaty you all accepted with them. And what was it that you agreed to?”

“A billion souls,” Véa said.

“And the population is roughly five billion,” Osonia said. “Which they’re aware of. If they made this dirty deal behind our backs, where we have nowhere to take these people when the war begins—”

“They’re planning on total decimation,” Larson murmured.

“Aye.” Osonia tightened her teeth to a line, empty stare stuck to the tabletop. “And we have nowhere to bring these souls to ensure their safety until the war’s over now that Lux has poisoned the land.”

“How do we know this wasn’t intentional?” Rion propped his elbows on the table, leaning in. “What if he purposely made the world uninhabitable becausehecut a deal with those bastards?”

“No.” Véa shook her head. “I’d love to say yes and paint Lux as the villain, but he’s not. He was earnest when he said it was an accident. His fury over the queens and the Conclave was genuine.”