Inkling_2026_Digital - Flipbook - Page 12
see the crowd’s limited tolerance for me
wane further. Several churchmen make
signs warding o昀昀 evil.
It’s that moment when my eyes
unexpectedly 昀椀nd Gisela’s brilliant blue
ones. Her dark curls are pulled back into
an intricate braid, and her face doesn’t
match the uncomfortable and angered
expressions of the men around her. She
doesn’t even match her father, Berengar’s,
disapproving glare. Instead, she watches
me with such anxiety buried in her eyes,
it takes all my willpower to continue my
speech and not run down to convince her
all will go well.
I tear my eyes from Gisela, praying the
pause in my speech hadn’t been as long
as I fear. One look at Stephen’s agitated
expression tells me it had been more than
noticeable.
I clear my throat. “Upon the death of my
father, Guy of Spoleto, this man—” Again,
I raise my arm to the dead pope. “—took
it upon himself to elect his own king,
rather than respect my father’s wishes by
naming me king.”
The room comes alive with the murmurs
of my accusers, and my gut twists as
I realize my speech has shifted from
o昀昀ensive toward Formosus, into a
defence of my own innocence. I suck in a
sharp breath, mapping out a whole new
argument in my mind.
“I know what all of you think of me, but for
the sake of justice, of peace, and of your
own honour, listen to me. There was a
man with a young son; both of them were
starving.” The room gradually falls silent
again as the men watch me quizzically;
even Gisela raises a brow.
“The man promised his son that if
anything should happen to him, the boy
could move into the monastery he had
built with his own hands, where the boy
would be fed and cared for. While food to
the starved is an immeasurable treasure,
12 | INKLING 2026
