Hours passed. Mother asked if I wanted help, but I dismissed her, and Baridya as well. I was too nervous to keep up conversation. The meeting should have started by now, my guards closing in on the tavern as the Truthbringers spread their usual lies and hatred.
Two more hours dragged by, until I was tapping my pen rapidly on the desk, my eyes glazed over as I tried to read. Where was Deance? Where were my guards? The Truthbringers should have long since been rounded up, unless something had gone wrong.
Now my windowless study felt suffocating. I abandoned my work and stalked to my suite, where I gave the lone guard posted at my door orders to notify me as soon as Quendon or Deance returned.
From my balcony, the city betrayed no sign of what was unfolding in its streets. The riots had quieted, the fires long since burned out, and from here I could not see the crowd that undoubtedly still filled the main square.
When a muffled knock sounded from the door to my suite, I gathered my skirts and raced to answer it. I expected to see Deance and Quendon, perhaps with one of the Truthbringers for questioning.
Instead I came face-to-face with Ellarie. Tears streaked her face, and her hair was falling from its net.
“Have you heard?” she asked, grabbing my arm.
“What?”
“They’ve taken my son. They’ve taken Calden hostage, and they’ve threatened to kill him if you don’t stand on trial.”
25
Hostage
I emerged from my rooms to find a crowd already gathered in the common area. Ellarie must have spread the news widely, hoping for any help she could get in rescuing her son. I could not blame her, nor could I deny that Cal had only been targeted because of his involvement with me.
I felt cornered. This was almost worse than killing a man with my own hand. Again and again, I had pushed to keep Cal by my side; now he was about to pay the price for my stupidity. I should have listened to Ellarie. I was a dangerous person to associate with, and I had known all along my supporters would come under fire. The thought of Cal suffering at the Truthbringers’ hands twisted my heart.
“Is it true?” Baridya asked in a loud whisper, hurrying to my side. “Has Cal been captured by the Truthbringers?”
“I only know what Ellarie has told me.” I turned to Ellarie, who had sniffed loudly at this. “Who told you this?”
“A Truthbringer who calls himself the Master. I spoke to him myself. I thought at first he might be lying, but it seems no one has seen Calden all day.”
Baridya shook her head. “I did wonder where he had gone.”
Mother edged through the press of curious Cheltish wing residents to my side. “Ellarie? What is this I hear about the Truthbringers threatening your son’s life if Kalleah does not stand on trial?”
“They have him hostage.” Ellarie’s voice trembled, and new tears spilled from her eyes. When Mother embraced her, Ellarie pressed her face into her shoulder.
“This is a mere distraction,” Olleack’s snide, oily voice said from behind.
I whirled.
“The life of one worthless Flamespinner will change nothing either way. There are riots breaking out in the streets. Buildings have been set on fire. If this gets out of hand, the whole city could burn. Our guards are unable to keep the peace.”
He was right.
“If the situation deteriorates much further, our lives will be in serious danger. Your people are ready to rally behind Leoth, if you only give the word. Just think of the lives you will save, Your Majesty, if you set aside your arrogance and step aside before this turns into a civil war.”
“I don’t rule out of arrogance,” I said tightly. “Only out of duty. Out of the knowledge your son would destroy everything our kingdom has built. It is the Truthbringers and their followers who drive us toward civil war, not I. If Leoth took the throne, would he throw his support behind their cause? Because if he does, he will march us to war swifter than I would.”
“You are blinded by your own prejudices. The Truthbringers speak what others are afraid to admit. The magic races have grown too powerful over the years. Their influence and wealth have led to oppression of our non-magical citizens. Your ascendance has simply brought this corruption to light.”
“You’re just like them!” I cried. “Twisting the truth to serve you. They have created a crisis where there was none. And now you’re trying to distract me from the fact that one of my advisors—one of my closest friends—is in terrible danger.”
“Stand on trial, then,” Olleack said smoothly. “You know what must be done.”
“Away with you,” Mother snapped. She looped an arm behind my back and turned me away from Olleack. “Don’t listen to him. You know he seeks only to serve himself. You must not agree to stand on trial. Prince Calden’s capture might very well be a bluff, but if you subject yourself to public questioning, it will spell the end of your rule. Maybe even your life.”
“Are you accusing me of lying?” Ellarie said furiously. “I care only for the safety of my son! Do you really think I would invent something like this?”
“Of course not,” Mother said gently. “But the Truthbringers may have lied. They could be trying to manipulate Kalleah.”
“We know they’re trying to manipulate her,” Ellarie said. “They’ve said it blatantly. And my son is missing! Do you really think he’s hiding in the palace to play some cruel trick on us? He’s long past that age.”
“Can you send someone to search for him?” Baridya asked timidly.
“By someone, you mean the multitude of guards we have around?” I said sarcastically, gesturing to the room, which was devoid of guards. Where the plagues had Deance and Quendon gone?
Baridya flushed, and I immediately felt guilty for turning my fear and anger on her.
“I’ve already ordered servants to search the palace,” Ellarie said. “As for the city—how do you expect to find a single boy amidst hundreds of thousands of residents?”
“I don’t think—”
I let them argue, unable to pay attention.
They had known. Someone close to me had realized Cal was as dear as a brother to me—that I would strive to protect him above almost anyone else. I was supposed to make decisions based on cold calculations, acting for the best of my country and my people at all times, yet I could not do it this time. I could not abandon Cal.
This was the end. I would lose my throne; Baylore would fall into the hands of the Truthbringers. I had tried, yet it had not been enough. No one was prepared to listen to someone they thought of as a demon.
Around me, the room seemed to float in a dreamlike haze. Voices rose louder and louder, their passionate arguments blurring together into a hum of noise. They spoke as though I still had a choice to make. As though Cal’s life were irrelevant. But Olleack was right, as much as I hated to admit it. This was merely a distraction. Even if I chose to sacrifice Cal to keep my throne, my time was running out. The throne was no longer mine.
I turned and started toward the passageway to the historic wing; Mother went silent, and I wondered if she had been speaking to me. Though I did not turn, I could hear the swish of her skirts as she fell into step behind me. As if in a daze, I let my feet carry me down the familiar halls. The ceilings stretched high above me, their grey stone walls covered in enchanted tapestries that radiated heat, muffling the sound of my determined stride.
At the palace gates, Mother put a hand on my shoulder. “What are you doing?” she asked urgently.
“I am queen,” I said without emotion, my words coming as if from a stranger’s mouth. “I do not need to run my decisions past you.”
“There was a time when you valued my judgment.” Mother’s voice was strained. “When you and I were a team. Why do you push me away?”
Because you would be horrified at what I have done. At what I have become.
I did not answer. Instead I pushed open the palace doors and emerged onto the top step.
In the square below, chaos
reigned. Men brawled on the cobblestones and threw stones at any window within range, while others hurled broken glass and eggs and fruit in a steady rain onto the palace steps. The city guards had given up on trying to restrain the mob altogether, and instead stood in a line behind the palace wall, swords drawn. Several had bits of egg or pulp streaked through their hair and down their uniforms.
“Kalleah—” Mother said from behind. She did not follow me onto the steps.
I started down the steps. No one seemed to have realized their queen stood before them; the grinding sound of the great palace doors had been lost in the roar of noise.
Halfway down the steps, I caught sight of a disturbance near Market Street. A group of men and women jogged onto the main square, purposeful, the mob parting before them. And in their midst—Deance.
My heart leapt into my throat. She was safe, and the people around her had to be my guards, disguised in civilian clothing. I could not see Quendon’s white hair among them, but nor did I see any Truthbringers. Maybe he was taking them to the cells even now.
“Let them through,” I commanded.
The city guards whirled, and several saluted, backs straighter than before.
As the knot of undercover guards approached, the city guards pulled open the palace gates and forced their way into the crowd, kicking and elbowing those who did not move out of their path. They were evidently hesitant to use swords against civilians. By the time the new arrivals reached the gates, the palace guards had cleared a path for them to jog straight through and onto the steps. Closer now, I recognized several of the guards, and Deance nodded when she met my eye.
Once they were safely inside the palace gates, the city guards withdrew and slammed the gates closed with a clang, resuming their protective line out of reach of the crowd.
Deance pushed her way through the guards and stopped right in front of me.
“What happened?” I asked in a low voice.
“Your guards managed to arrest four Truthbringers, but then a group of armed men arrived with Cal in chains, and they threatened to kill him if we didn’t release their men and leave immediately. I…might have shouted at them, and they realized I’ve been spying on them all along. Your guards had to fight off men who tried to grab me as I fled. I’m sorry. I’ve messed this up for you, haven’t I?”
“You’ve done brilliantly,” I said. “There’s no reason to continue spying in any case. This is the end.”
“What do you mean?”
I shook my head. “Where is Quendon?”
“He was captured as well.”
I took one more step toward the gates. “My people!” I shouted. To my surprise, the roar of the crowd dropped to a murmur, and those brawling broke apart to approach. “I agree to stand on trial before the city court—on one condition. Prince Calden must be returned safely to me—along with a guard by the name of Quendon.” I was certain there would be listeners in the crowd who would report my words to the Master.
A renewed roar greeted my words.
Then, as I watched, the Master himself strode across the square, the crowd parting around him like a river around a rock. As always, he wore white robes and a friendly smile, his grandfatherly air incongruous with the hateful lies he spread.
“We accept your terms, Your Majesty,” he said, and the square fell silent. “Tomorrow at ten, we await your presence in the courtroom. This will be a reckoning greater than any your nation has seen.”
26
The Trial of the Queen
T he morning of my trial, I woke to a layer of smoke that lay like gauze over the city.
The fires appeared to have burned themselves out overnight, but the streets were not quiet. Rather than the usual roosters crowing in fenced yards of the Garden District and the clatter of wheels over cobblestones as goods were delivered to shops, I heard shouts and the clanging of hammers.
I had barely slept last night. Mother had been furious at my decision to stand on trial; even now, she denied the overwhelming evidence of my failure. But I would not change my mind. I knew what had to be done.
It was early, the Cheltish wing still and empty. I dressed simply, in a gown of pale green, my hair hanging unbound down my back. Then I crept down the hall to Leoth’s bedchamber.
He answered my knock after several minutes. His hair was tousled, his eyes still bleary with sleep.
“Kalleah? Cloudy gods, what are you doing here?”
I couldn’t resist glancing behind him to see if Lady Eshaline shared his bed. No—he was alone. “I need you to promise me something?”
“Huh? What are you on about? What time is it, anyway?”
“I’m about to stand on trial, Leoth,” I hissed. “Have you forgotten?”
His eyes widened, some of the lingering fogginess vanishing. “Oh.”
“After this, I won’t be able to keep my throne. I can’t see any way through this. You will need to take the throne in my place, and you must promise to continue work on the Great Southern Road. Push for work to go ahead as fast as possible. War is not far off—I’m certain of it—and Baylore will need a strong economy and plenty of supplies to survive. We’ve already lost Larkhaven, and if we can’t do anything about it soon, our economy will be crippled by the time summer arrives.”
“This is what you want from me?” Leoth sounded baffled. “I thought you might beg me for mercy, for political sanctuary after the crown passes on.”
“That’s irrelevant. I don’t want Itrea to collapse under your rule. You might be endangering thousands of innocents, but that doesn’t mean I want the entire country to fall apart.”
Leoth ran a hand through his hair, which only made it messier than ever. Even now, his nearness tugged at me. I realized with a flush of heat that this was dangerously intimate—I stood in the doorway of his bedroom, his sheets still rumpled, no one around to supervise us.
But after today, that would no longer matter. I was not sure what my sentence would be if I could not disprove the allegations against me, but I could not remain here. Either I would end up locked away or I would be forced to leave Baylore altogether.
“Good luck,” Leoth said at last.
When I let out a bark of humorless laughter, he shut the door in my face.
* * *
A virtual army of guards surrounded me and my supporters as we emerged from the palace and descended the main steps. The air seemed heavy in my lungs, smoke still lacing the breeze, and I could feel the oppressive weight of stares following us.
Mother walked beside me, resplendent in a deep blue gown, and around us were the guards who had stood watch outside my room, there to testify I had not left my quarters on the nights of the recent murders.
The trial would be held at the regular courthouse, and under the terms of our law, civilians would be allowed to attend—provided they agreed to be searched for weapons beforehand. I had brought witnesses to speak for some of the charges brought against me, but most were too ephemeral to either prove or disprove. I wished Father were here, not in Larkhaven; he would have been best poised to argue for my legitimacy.
Though the walk to the courthouse was not long, it seemed to take a lifetime. Word must have spread widely since my announcement, for every street was packed with onlookers. None shouted or threw anything; they merely stared.
We walked past the cathedral, where a clump of scholars stood just inside the open gates, regarding me with solemnity; past the council building, where every council member, scribe, and bookkeeper had spilled onto the steps to watch, some scribbling notes as I went by; and past houses and shops with the owners hanging from the windows. I walked slowly, eyes trained straight ahead, afraid I would stumble on the uneven cobblestones.
With each step, the enormity of Baylore impressed itself upon me. This was a vast, confusing, multi-faceted city, home to thousands of people so different they could not be categorized together. I had always thought of my people as a single entity, yet the only thing they shared was a homeland.
And the nearer I drew to the courthouse, the more obvious it became that I had never truly ruled these people. My power had been illusory. The citizens of Baylore had allowed me into their city—grudgingly, warily—but they had never allowed me to lead.
All along, the Truthbringers had held power.
At last we reached the courthouse doors, where a cluster of judges waited outside, their gazes respectful. They had not asked for this. They were merely doing their job.
“Where is Prince Calden?” I called out. “And my guard, Quendon?” I turned at the threshold to face the river of onlookers.
Whispers rippled through the crowd, followed by shoving as a knot of men in black robes and masks forced their way forward. In the center, hands bound behind their backs, Cal and Quendon stumbled toward me.
Cal’s eyes sought mine; though he was sweating, he attempted to smile.
“Bring them into the courtroom,” I demanded. “I have honored your request. Now honor your promise.”
When Cal and Quendon were relinquished into the care of the palace guards surrounding my supporters, Ellarie pushed her way forward and flung her arms around her son. “Calden! I thought I’d lost you!” she cried, her voice muffled in Cal’s shoulder.
Cal stood stiffly until his mother released him. He was several fingers taller than her now, his eyes dark with worry.
As the doors ground open, I turned to the empty, high-ceilinged courtroom. If I tried to retreat now, the mob would trample me.
The only way was forward.
Inside the courtroom, the air was cool and still, musty-smelling despite the way every surface gleamed with polish. Rows of stone benches lined the room up to the front, where a single seat faced an elevated platform where the judges would sit behind a long desk. Every footstep and rustle of fabric rang out in the cavernous space, and when someone behind me coughed, the sound bounced all around the courtroom.
Innocent Queen: A Court Intrigue Fantasy (The Forbidden Queen Series Book 2) Page 21
