Sworn To Secrecy: Courtlight #4

by Edun, Terah

  He paced to the edge of the throne room dais and began walking down the gold and marble steps to where she stood. She finally realized that she should be kneeling not standing and quickly dropped to the floor in a move that she hoped never reached her mother’s ears. She would never let Ciardis live after finding out. As she knelt on the floor with her head down, she could feel her head wrap slowly unraveling in a mild panic. But she knew enough not to touch it. If not executing a proper curtsy were a formal sign of misconduct in her mother’s eyes, fiddling with her hair under the emperor’s eyes would be a crime.

  Despite her abject humiliation, the turban continued to unwrap itself and was rapidly falling into her eyes. With her hands in her lap and her head down, she couldn’t see a thing. Which was why she fairly jumped out of her skin when the emperor, who had the very unfair ability to walk like a cat when he so chose, spoke abruptly in her ear.

  “Your turban seems to be falling apart, Mistress Weathervane,” the emperor said dryly.

  She blushed to the roots of her hair and shyly looked up, taking his speech as permission to raise her head.

  “Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,” she said, “As you can see, I’m not very good at it.”

  “You may stand.”

  She quickly rose from her knees. The turban fell all the way off and she caught it in her hands. As she did her dirty hair fell in lumps around her face. To her mortification a large clump of dried mud fell out of those lumps onto the polished marble floor near her feet.

  She couldn’t think of a word to say.

  To her amazement the emperor laughed. It was dry but it was not mocking, which was the only thing that kept her from sinking into the floor.

  “I assume this also is the fault of the duke of Carne,” he said, “My guard told me about the attack last night. And that you and your people had taken refuge in the underground city with my son.”

  Face burning but voice firm, she looked into his eyes. “Yes, my lord.”

  “You have courage, Weathervane,” he said quietly. “I’ll give you that.”

  She felt some pride restored at that comment.

  “What have you found?”

  She straightened her shoulders and ploughed into what she knew, holding the tale of the ship in the Weaver’s District for last.

  The emperor looked colder and colder as she gave him the report on her adventures as well as what she had found out about the princess heir’s plans to attack the city of Kifar and detailed the convoluted partnership which had led to his brother’s murder of his first wife.

  “Do you know what manner of beast it is that will attack Kifar?”

  “No, Your Imperial Majesty.”

  “What about where it resides?”

  “Not as of yet, Your Imperial Majesty.”

  “Do you have proof that it was my brother who killed Teresa?”

  “My mother’s testimony should be sufficient.”

  He didn’t bother commenting on that.

  Finally, with an odd catch in his voice he said, “Do you know why Maradian killed Teresa or what happened to him later?”

  “No, sire. He disappeared and my mother never heard of him again.”

  He nodded sharply. “Of course he did.”

  She didn’t like his tone. “I’m telling the truth.”

  He gave her a surprised glance. “And I believe you, young Weathervane. But I can’t say it’s enough to have your mother freed of the crime in her peers’ eyes.”

  “But surely, Your Imperial Majesty, your judgment is law. If you say it is so, so will it be.”

  “Of course, of course,” he said, pacing and waving an impatient hand. “I just wonder if more proof could be gathered. Do you know if your mother would be able to recognize Maradian if she saw him again?”

  Ciardis paused in confusion. Maradian was dead, but she would humor the emperor. “No, my lord.”

  “Why not?” he asked sharply.

  “Because only those of imperial blood and their chosen consorts can see through the mask of a projection done by another of imperial blood.”

  “Yes, that is true,” he said, stopping and peering closely down at her. “Then what about evidence? Something to show the people that my dead brother was a part of this appalling scheme?”

  Her eyes lit up. The ship would be just the thing. It had been hidden by the princess heir but bore the nickname of the dead prince. Surely it would be convincing enough. She didn’t yet know how the ship tied into the princess heir’s plans, but there was only a matter of time before they found out.

  Just as she went to tell the looming emperor, Sebastian’s voice cut into her thoughts. Ciardis, they’re moving us. Are you and my father agreed upon your mother’s freedom?

  Not yet, she said silently. But he’s acting rather strangely.

  For a tense moment she didn’t hear anything from Sebastian. She thought he had said what he wished and left. But then a mental surge of his abilities connected to hers and she felt his mind and emotions once more, as clearly as she felt her own. Their minds were in full mind-sync for the first time in a day. He could now see out of her eyes, hear through her ears, and read her thoughts fully. She grimaced in irritation. Having a second mind in her head wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences; having one that despised you at the moment was practically torture.

  “Lady Weathervane?” asked the emperor sharply.

  She snapped back to the present.

  “I asked you a question,” he said. “Do you have any further evidence of this plot between Maradian and Marissa?”

  “Apologies, sire,” she said. “I—”

  Ciardis—don’t! shouted Sebastian in a voice so loud in her head that she winced. The command was so forceful that instead of saying, “I do,” as she meant to, the words came out as, “I don’t.”

  The emperor peered at her. “You...don’t?”

  Tell him no! Sebastian said frantically.

  What in the world, Sebastian?

  Just do it! He cannot know that mechanical contraption was a map to a hidden location, and he particularly cannot know we have found something.

  No explanation was forthcoming. But the fervent worry that laced Sebastian’s tone was something she had never before seen in him. If he feared the revelation, then so would she.

  “No,” she said, trembling from the strain of holding on to their mental connection while Sebastian drifted farther and farther away. “I mean...I received the second object from the princess heir’s possessions but it led nowhere.” She was fumbling to come up with an excuse.

  Desperately she called out to Sebastian, Was that enough? Tell me what’s going on, damn it, and what to say to your father now. You know I’ve never been good at lying.

  Empty silence met her thoughts. They were still connected, but it was a strain for him to speak to her. He was either distracted by something or unable to send her his thoughts. Snapping back to awareness of the man who stood in front of her, she watched warily as she waited for the emperor to respond.

  “Did it now?” the emperor murmured while watching her as carefully as a predator would its prey.

  “Yes, sire,” she said while gaining some confidence back. “Perhaps she prized it for its uniqueness. A mechanical contraption such as that would be difficult to come by. But it seemed to have no functional use other than to make noise and drink oil.”

  “Very pretty, though,” she added belatedly as she realized he might take kindly to her dismissal of his sister’s prized possession.

  He straightened up from his looming position over her and turned to leave. “Very well. The trial will proceed.”

  “But sire!” she called out, frantic. Surely he believed her. Surely it was enough and he could dismiss the egregious allegations against her mother. Otherwise he could proceed to his courtroom and would pronounce Lillian’s death sentence then and there before a jury of her peers.

  Her stomach dropped and her mind whirled. She didn’t want to disappoint S
ebastian, but she would say anything to stop the emperor from pronouncing her mother’s death. Even telling him about the ship that Sebastian didn’t want revealed.

  “Yes?” He turned back with the features of his face hidden by the blinding glare of the sun.

  You can’t, Ciardis! snapped Sebastian.

  Why not? she yelled in frustration.

  Because he’s not my father, was his horrified answer.

  What? she said, shocked.

  Reluctantly, Sebastian took over her vision and pushed his own mage sight onto hers. As she stared straight ahead at the sun-crowned emperor, the magic of his cloaked veil fell away, and before her stood a man that Prince Heir Sebastian recognized as his blood. But not as his father.

  That isn’t my father, that’s Maradian Athanos Algardis. My supposedly dead uncle.

  You have got to be joking, she said.

  I wish I was. But Ciardis, he must not know that you know!

  She gulped and said quickly, “I implore you, Your Imperial Majesty, give me more time. I will find what you seek. I will know why your brother and sister killed your wife. As well as what the princess heir planned in Kifar.”

  He frowned and said, “We will see, Mistress Weathervane.”

  Then he left, and she collapsed on her knees in relief in the middle of the audience chamber floor. It took her a few minutes to gather her courage. If was sometime more before she was able to stand and walk out of the audience chamber. Still numb to the world around her she gripped the golden handle and jerked the door to the main hall open. As she exited, a servant beckoned to her. After she approached, he led her down a side hall to where the trial would soon take place. She quickly snapped out of her stupor when she stepped into a room that was empty except for a steaming basin of hot water, and the door closed behind her. What was this? She didn’t let panic set in, and in the very next second a bevy of maids entered to the room and proceeded to make short work of her disheveled hair.

  “Compliments of the emperor,” the supervising lady-in-waiting said with a disapproving eye.

  Ciardis didn’t bother responding to her disapproving look and sniff of disdain. She was still in shock.

  Ciardis? demanded Sebastian in her head.

  I’m fine. The emperor has maids doing my hair. She almost began laughing hysterically at that. She collapsed in a fit of giggles while the surrounding maids ducked down around her to keep the combs they were running through her locks from snagging in her hair.

  For a moment there was silence. Around her and in her mind.

  Then Sebastian asked, Are they almost done?

  At the same time the lead maid asked, “Miss, are you all right?”

  She answered yes to both without pausing. She wasn’t really sure if that was the correct answer for either.

  But to their credit the maids finished combing, washing, and drying in less than half an hour. She was sent out of the room with freshly cleaned hair and admonishments from the women to not go falling in mud baths again.

  She didn’t really think they would understood how she’d gotten so much mud in her hair in the first place. But then again, it didn’t really matter, either. Not to them. And to her it was just another day battling evil minions. Gathering her courage and her solitude she walked out and followed her escort to the judgment room. She was surprised to find it packed from the floor to the rafters with nobles from across Sandrin. As she looked up in wonder at the tiered decks of seats, she noticed faintly that none of the occupants would meet her eyes. They probably wouldn’t want to seem sympathetic to a family potentially on the outs with their emperor. And then Sebastian was there. He didn’t walk up to her, but instead ran and gripped her in a tight hug.

  As she leaned into him, grateful that he seemed to welcome her presence again, laughter echoed around them. Still holding tightly to Sebastian, she looked to its epicenter and there, brazen and bold, stood the duke of Carne dressed resplendently as he leaned on a walking stick of solid amber. As she licked her suddenly dry lips, a single, loud clap startled her. She and Sebastian turned in each other’s arms to see the emperor taking his seat on a raised dais at the front of the room.

  He was looking directly at them.

  “My son, I hope I didn’t take you too long from your precious Weathervane’s arms.”

  Sebastian faked a smile. “No, Father. I’m merely glad to have her back. I had heard that you swept her off her feet in a ballroom dance the last time you were alone with her.”

  The emperor let a bark of laughter escape. Then he stood and clapped for his son. The surrounding courtiers quickly followed their emperor’s example, giving their impish crown prince a standing ovation.

  Only Ciardis stared into the dead eyes of a man and saw nothing but hollow lies ringing from his lips.

  Sebastian tightened his grip around her waist in warning as he whispered, “He must not know that you know.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Not ever.”

  She swallowed harshly and stepped away from him. She looked around for the rest of their group and saw them standing to the left of the dais. Lillian Weathervane was not with them.

  As she peered around, she whispered aloud to Sebastian, “Where is my mother?”

  “She’s coming,” said Sebastian.

  “My son, Lady Weathervane, come forth and bear witness.”

  They obeyed and went to stand beside Lord Meres Kinsight.

  “Bring in the prisoner,” commanded the emperor.

  The outer doors in the back of the room opened and in walked Lillian Weathervane in shackles, her head held high. Ciardis gasped in horror and rushed to move forward in protest. Sebastian and Thanar quickly took hold of her elbows to keep her from going to her mother.

  “No,” said Thanar tersely.

  “She has not been and will not be harmed,” said Sebastian from her side.

  The only thing that stopped Ciardis from shaking them off mutely and continuing forward was the fact that Lillian was looking directly at her and shaking her head silently.

  Swallowing, Ciardis settled back.

  The emperor stared at the matriarch of the Weathervane family with a curious look in his eyes.

  “Lillian Weathervane, you stand before your liege lord and a court of your peers on the charge of regicide. How do you plead?”

  Lillian said hoarsely, “Not guilty, sire.”

  “By what proof?” the emperor inquired.

  Lillian took a deep, calming breath and began her story again. From the time she had entered the empress’s bedchambers to her supposed fiery death, she retold it with startlingly vivacity which set off a firestorm of speculation in the raised seating above.

  “Silence!” roared the emperor. “Silence.”

  They quieted instantly.

  “I hear your evidence and I call forth my inquisitor,” said the emperor. “Lady Vana Cloudbreaker, step forward.”

  With wide eyes Ciardis watched Vana step up to a podium in the center of the room.

  “Speak to us of what you’ve witnessed and give us the knowledge passed down through the inquisitorial line,” the emperor commanded.

  Vana looked neither left nor right, but straight ahead at her liege lord.

  “Before my assignment to track down Lady Serena of the Companions’ Guild, I was given the accounts of the nine men who rode to recapture the fleeing Weathervane four fortnights after the death of the Empress Teresa Athanos Algardis,” said Vana stoically.

  “By those accounts the Lady Weathervane had been at large for eight weeks since the death of the empress and was being tracked from the outskirts of Sandrin to the interior of the imperial lands,” she continued. “Lady Lillian Weathervane was found and questioned. She confessed to a spirited argument with the empress, but it was determined that she was holding vital information back. The inquisitors decided to take her back to the capitol of Sandrin for trial under truth serum. From their clutches she escaped. It was not until many years later that I w
as assigned to her case. I was required to find out everything possible about the Lady Lillian, including questioning former friends and attaining vital information on abilities and tactics from current family.”

  Ciardis felt shock run down her spine. Vana had been spying on her. The whole time she had been seeking to obtain information on her family. Furious, Ciardis thought spitefully, Well, the joke’s on her, because we know absolutely nothing anyway. And then dread filled her. Because Vana already knew the secret about the kasten ship, which meant that she could tell the fake emperor at any moment. Ciardis didn’t know why The Marde was so important, but for the princess heir to have it hidden away from her ally in taking the throne it must have been vital. Which was why he absolutely could not get his hands on it. But she couldn’t stop Vana from speaking up. No one could.

  “And what did you find?” the emperor asked, leaning forward.

  Vana barely moved, but Ciardis thought she could catch Vana’s eye. And for a moment dread and hope mixed in her heart like a toxic poison as they stared at each other.

  Vana looked directly in Ciardis eyes. She frowned as if she wanted to say something to Ciardis but couldn’t.

  The Emperor cleared his throat in impatience.

  Please, please Vana. Don’t speak about the kasten ship.

  “Nothing, sire,” Vana said. “I know that the Lady Lillian Weathervane has been searching for her son and daughter ardently but as to her whereabouts for the past seventeen years before that, I could not tell you with any accuracy what she was up to.”

  Ciardis blinked.

  “Well, then” said the Emperor, “Let’s move on to the Weathervane’s actions within the city.”

  “Of course, Sire.” said Vana respectfully.

  “She lies, Sire!” shouted the duke of Carne. “You lie!”

  Vana turned to her accuser calmly. “I lied about what?”

  “The Weathervanes’ plans. All of them are carrion waiting to strike. They undermine this empire at every turn. From the turncoat boy to the murderer of a mother,” spat out the duke.