"Planning would suggest something more nefarious. More like working together to expose the ugly lie you've kept hidden all this while."
It was Caspian who spoke, his tone so cold he sounded nothing like the person he had been moments ago.
Elijah turned to stare at him.
"You too?"
Disbelief flashed across his face, raw and unguarded for the briefest second. Then a harsh laugh tore from his throat. It echoed around the hall, dry and jagged, bouncing off the walls until it finally died. And when it did, every trace of humor vanished from his face.
"And what exactly did you intend to achieve with this?" he asked, his voice turning so thin and brittle in the way something fragile could snap at any moment. It was almost unsettling.
"To dethrone me? Fine. Go ahead. Try it."
He looked around the room wildly.
"Who would rule after me? You?" he pointed at Irene. Then Leon. "Or perhaps one of the rest of you, waiting like vultures for a throne that does not belong to you?"
