My dad seemed to deflate briefly with relief. Madame Veronique’s posture got stiffer. Voices slammed into one another. Kala walked out of the circle to sit on a pile of pelts, dogs curled at her feet. Isabeau stood next to her, at attention. Constantine crawled away. I couldn’t even look at him.

Everyone else started to talk at once. My family surrounded me but they were all shouting between themselves as well. The delegates from visiting tribes were demanding council.

“I have something to say.” I tried to be heard over the cacophony but it was next to impossible. I went on my tiptoes and tried to catch the eye of one of the Raktapa representatives but they were too busy talking among themselves.

“I have something to say!” I tried again but with no greater success. Mom would have been confident and terrifying; it was just her way. Dad’s way would be to find some sort of common ground to negotiate with. I only had my own way, whatever that might be. I’d have to rely on logic and common sense, and appeal to our united goal, which was, essentially, the desire to be left alone. That was something I understood on a level my parents didn’t truly appreciate.

But if they were going to listen to me, I’d have to make them hear me first.

My voice was just one of many, no matter how loudly I shouted.

So I’d stop shouting.

I was the quiet one anyway, as Lucy had teased me on the phone. So I’d use it to my advantage. I surreptitiously reached over and took the crown. Between Viola and the prophecy, it was a symbol everyone seemed to be obsessed with. And again, this time I’d make it work for me instead of against me.

I slipped through the jostling crowd, easing between arguments and apologies, bloodslaves and brothers. I stopped at the foot of the chopped down tree post. There were still chains curled at its base, still bloodstains in the dirt. I scaled the post, splinters breaking off under my boots. When I reached the top, I pulled myself up so I was standing. I didn’t do anything else, I just stood there, waiting silently and patiently, with bats circling over me.

It was several minutes before anyone noticed me. Sebastian was first, then the vampires around the post, then Nicholas, then Duncan. Slowly the conversations around me faltered, the silence spreading. The bats dipped down between the few still arguing, startling them apart.

Faces looked up at me and I had to swallow on a dry throat. “I have a proposition to make.” My voice trembled slightly. I straightened my shoulders to compensate.

“I’m not wise enough to be your queen,” I said. “But I’m wise enough to know it. I’m also wise enough to know that this system is hopelessly outdated and only sets us against one another. We can’t keep killing one another as if it’s the only way to sort out our differences. My cousin died for me, for this stupid prophecy, and the war over the crown. And I won’t let her death be in vain. Humans have trials and laws and jails, so why can’t we?” Dad looked so proud I thought he was going to start weeping right then and there. “If we’re going to gather from all over the world and sit at a council table, then we need to make changes. We all need to make treaties with the Helios-Ra, not just the local Violet Hill families.” Someone spat in the snow. I eyed her calmly. “The League is changing, just like we are. This isn’t the twelfth century.” I looked coldly at Madame Veronique. “And we need to stop acting as if it is.”

I held up the crown. “This is just an object,” I insisted. “It’s not worth dying for. But if you all really want it so desperately, then take it.” I snapped off one of the rubies. Someone gasped. I jumped off the post and walked toward Kala. “The Hounds answer to themselves.” I handed her the ruby. The whispers swelled angrily. I snapped off another one and turned to Saga. “The Na-Foir answer to themselves.” She grinned cockily, snatching the ruby out of the air. The last ruby I placed on the table in front of the Raktapa Council. “The ancient families answer to themselves.” I tossed the seed pearls that dangled on what was left of the crown, scattering them like tiny white mistletoe berries.

“And we all answer to one another.” My father had said those words enough times that they came naturally. “I want to abdicate the throne.” The hissing and shouting was so loud I flinched. Dad caught my eye and leaned his head ever so subtly in Mom’s direction. “But for the time being, I name Helena Drake as my Regent.” I smiled at Dad. “And Liam Drake as co-Regent.” Mom would be able to keep order in the chaos but Dad was the one who’d be able to make this plan work. He could settle disputes and soothe tempers. If he could handle Mom, he could handle vengeful vampires.

“And the rest of us?” a man in a plaid jacket asked. “Who represents us?”

I hadn’t considered that. I nibbled on my lower lip, fangs stinging as they poked through my skin. I wasn’t strictly Raktapa, because I wasn’t like the other Drakes. I wasn’t Hound or Na-Foir. I thought of Marigold and the others of the Bower. I was outside the circle, just like the solitary vampires who chose not to ally themselves. “I will,” I offered. “Until you choose your own representative, I’ll stand for the tribeless. If you’ll have me.” Dad really did cry then, just one tear, which he brushed hastily away before anyone could see him.

“Nicely done,” Nicholas said hours later to me as I stepped out of the main pavilion. Apparently when you took down the monarchy, you then had to sit and listen to speeches for hours, until your butt went numb.