Page 145 of Brutal Crown

“I have every authority,” I say, interrupting him. “As a direct descendant of the founding line, having completed a sacred rite, I have every right.”

The silence that follows isn’t calm. It’s a coil of tension drawn taut.

“This isn’t the way,” Giulio says, his voice calm but firm. “If you’re seeking revenge—or answers—we’ll speak in confidence, behind closed doors. Away from blood and theatrics.”

“No.” My voice cuts through his words. “There have been enough quiet conversations. Enough back rooms. Enough silence. Tonight, everyone hears what I have to say. The Society listens.”

The whispers across the room get louder. If they’re not careful, they’ll expose themselves in front of everyone.

They seem to understand that, which is why they immediately fall silent.

The silver-haired Elder leans forward. “Explain yourself.”

I step into the center of the stone floor.

“Our Elders have failed us,” I begin, my voice slicing through the silence like a blade. “What was meant to bind us together, to preserve legacy and loyalty, has been corrupted.”

I let the silence breathe—long enough for the weight of my words to settle.

“Some of you have twisted the very foundation of this Society. You’ve used your power not to protect it—but to feed your greed. To silence threats. To cover your tracks.”

My gaze sweeps the room, daring any of them to look away.

“You’ve hidden behind robes and titles while turning the Society into a weapon. Not for justice. Not for order. But for yourselves. You think tradition makes you untouchable. That the Society’s seal is a shield for your sins.”

I reach into my coat and pull out the leather pouch.

“That is treason.”

The word drops like a blade.

I toss the pouch to the floor. It lands with a slap, sharp and final.

“Hidden offspring from outside bloodlines. Unauthorized killings with the Society seal. Innocents killed and offered up like lambs.”

The faces of the guilty ones twist. Ermanno, Alfonsi, and Giulio are all tense in their seats. The other three glance at each other, subtle alarm in their faces. They remain silent, but the flicker in their eyes tells me more than their words ever could.

They don’t even know who among them is guilty.

“None of you trust each other anymore, do you?” I ask quietly. “You’ve poisoned the order from within.”

I’m sure everyone is asking the same question in their minds.

Who are the Elders?

“I’m not here to burn us down—contrary to what some of you might think,” I say, voice steady. “I’m here to save us. From ourselves.”

I pace forward a step.

“We have become weak,” I spit. “Cowards. Obsessed with bloodlines, blind to the strength standing right in front of us.”

The air crackles. The order in the room begins to fracture.

“An outsider walked through fire for us. She bled on our soil—desperate to prove herself in a system built to break her. A system you built.”

I scan their faces. Some frown. Some sneer. Most just watch.

“According to you, her blood is unsanctioned. Unworthy. But she did something most of you wouldn’t dare: She knelt on burning stone. Tore open her palms. Blistered her feet. And still stood taller than any man I’ve seen bleed on this altar.”