Kiva understood. He was trusting her. With his life — and with his kingdom.
In a wobbling voice, she said, “Maybe you shouldn’t tell me.”
Part of her prayed that he wouldn’t.
Because that same part feared that whatever he was about to share could spell his doom.
It’s him or us. Them or us. You can’t have it both ways.
Kiva shoved her sister’s voice away.
“It’s important to me that you feel safe here,” Jaren said quietly, “that you’re not worried about a future that will never happen. It goes without saying that this is my greatest secret — Evalon’s greatest secret — but if it’s going to help you sleep better at night, then I want you to know it. I trust you, Kiva. You have to know that by now.”
Please stop, Kiva wanted to say. Please don’t.
But she held her tongue as Jaren flipped more pages, before pausing and pointing at the aged ink.
The scrolling calligraphy was written in ancient Evalonian, a language only the most educated of scholars still understood. At the very bottom was an addendum in minuscule print, the lettering so small that Kiva had to squint to make out the individual words.
It was to this addendum that Jaren was pointing as he said, “I told you that there’s a way the rebels could, theoretically, take over leadership of the kingdom in a legitimate manner, and the means to do so is written right here.”
Kiva’s heart sped up to unhealthy levels.
“It’s a clause buried in the fine print of our very own laws, one that reveals the only instance in which the citizens of Evalon must yield — peacefully — to a new monarch. Similarly, any current rulers must also surrender to the new leadership without contention.”
Kiva wondered if she was about to pass out.
“The clause states that the person or persons who possess the Royal Ternary in its entirety have an automatic right to the throne, above and beyond all blood ties, political powers, and royal lineages,” Jaren recited. His brow crinkled in thought. “So really, I suppose it doesn’t matter if the rebels have a Corentine heir or not. But since their entire movement is founded on the misguided premise of avenging Torvin for something he deserved in the first place, then I assume they’d flail without one of his descendants to lead them.”
Kiva’s head was spinning. The Royal Ternary — the words she’d heard the Royal Council speak during their meeting, the same words she’d asked her siblings about, none of them knowing just how secretive the answer might be.
Despite her internal struggle, Kiva ignored what Jaren had said about Torvin in favor of asking the only acceptable question, her voice hardly more than a croak: “What’s the Royal Ternary?”
“It’s three objects,” Jaren answered, flipping through the pages again. “The first is this —” He tapped a finger against the Book of the Law. “The second is the Royal Signet — a golden ring worn by the current ruler of Evalon. My family’s crest was fashioned to imitate it, so it’s basically a much smaller version of the amulet you’re wearing, just without the power to channel magic.”
Thinking of the ring she’d seen on Ariana’s finger last night — and countless times before — Kiva asked, “Your mother wears it?”
Jaren nodded. “When I inherit the throne, it’ll pass to me.”
Kiva couldn’t meet his eyes. “And the third object?”
Jaren pointed to the new page he’d opened. On it was a drawing of two outstretched hands holding a simple jewel, spherical and without color, like a shining diamond or the purest of crystals.
“The Eye of the Gods,” Jaren said. “It’s the reason why you don’t have to worry about anyone taking the kingdom from us.”
Peering at the jewel, Kiva asked, “The Eye of the what?”
“Let’s sit,” he said, guiding her to the nearest reading lounge. Once comfortable, he answered, “You already know the tale of Torvin and Sarana — or, one of the tales. The story you shared in Zalindov is one I’ve heard before, but it’s not the only one. And it’s not the one I believe.” He shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. All the tales start out the same, with them falling in love. Can we agree on that?”
Kiva nodded, curious about the other stories he’d heard, but not enough to interrupt him.
“Legend claims that when they ruled together, some of the ancient gods still lingered in this world, not yet having left to watch over the everworld,” Jaren said. “Upon the union of Sarana and Torvin, those gods decided they were no longer needed, believing our people safe and our lands protected by the powerful magic the two rulers possessed. As a parting gift, they bestowed a precious jewel — the Eye of the Gods — upon the newlyweds, a blessing to mark their worthiness as leaders. To this day, it’s said that whoever holds the Eye has the gods’ approval to rule in their stead.”