Page 121 of A Thieving Curse

“You look beautiful.” Tristan held out his arm.Love is a choice.I will be kind.She placed her clammy hand in the crook of his elbow. He leaned close.

“Please don’t pull away,” he whispered before he kissed her cheek.

The lords hummed approvingly. No doubt the exact reaction Tristan was looking for. Raelyn concentrated on appearing calm and neutral, even though inside, she was dying. A vision of them in ten years feigning affection while Raelyn tried to forget that Alex was long dead nearly sent her to her knees. Tristan steadied her.

“Are you all right?” he asked with quiet alarm, close by her ear.

She nodded. “Fine.”Or I will be. If the lords crown Alexander.Or they would kill him, and she would never be fine again.

Tristan led her onto the lower dais and guided her into the seat on the larger throne’s left. He sat in the other little throne, erect but relaxed, his arms resting leisurely on its armrests. She sought to exude the same level of calm, but doubted it was working. She felt sick to her stomach.

Sir Prescott stepped into the center of the room in front of the lower dais, his back to them as he addressed the Court. “Welcome, my lords. Please stand for His Royal Excellency, King Henry Carbrey.” The nobles stood, as did Tristan, so she followed his lead.

Henry strode in. He wore a large gold crown with a pearl set in each point. His crimson cape dragged behind him. A gold sash cut across his ebony vest, and white sleeves gathered at his wrists. A jewel-covered dagger and sheath glittered on his belt. His polished boots clicked on the floor as he mounted the first dais, passing between Raelyn and Tristan on his way to the higher throne. Raelyn curtsied, thankful for the opportunity to hide her face, because she wasn’t certain she could look in his face without revealing her anger.

After Henry took his seat, Tristan and Raelyn sat back down. The lords followed suit with a loud rustle and creak of benches.

“Bring in the prisoner,” Henry said.

The double doors at the opposite end of the hall whined as servants pulled them open. A palace guard led Alexander into the room, a chain in one hand, a baton in the other. Raelyn’s heart fluttered and her stomach twisted. Alex still wore his black shirt and trousers, and his feet were bare and bloodied. He limped with each step, but he kept his shoulders square and his head high. His hands were now shackled in front of him, connected to the chain the soldier held. Gasps arose from the gathered lords as Alex was led between the benches. The guard stopped before the daises and stepped behind Alex.

Alex met Raelyn’s eyes, his posture tense. She mustered a brave smile in an attempt to give him reassurance she didn’t feel. Alex’s features eased, and he looked up at Henry. The hall fell into silence. Finally, Henry spoke.

“Will you not bow?”

Alex took a deep breath and lifted his chin. He exhaled slowly. “Not to a murderer.”

Cries of outrage burst from the lords. Raelyn gripped the ends of the arms of the throne and leaned forward, every nerve on edge. The lords hushed suddenly, and Raelyn wished she could see Henry behind her.

“Your lies will do you no good here, boy,” Henry said, careless amusement lacing his tone.

“We were promised a hearing,” a lord interrupted. “You cannot dismiss his claims before we have heard his case, Your Majesty.”

As other lords murmured their assent, Alex did the unthinkable. He turned his back on Henry and faced the Court. The lords gawked. Raelyn dug her fingernails into the wood of the throne as she beheld his blood-caked back. For a moment, the guard stood frozen, his jaw hanging open. But his shock faded, and he struck Alex across the shoulders. Alex stumbled forward. Raelyn cried out, clapping her hand over her mouth too late. Tristan glared at her.

Alex straightened with a pained grunt. “I would face my people when I talk to them.”

The guard raised the baton again and Raelyn closed her eyes.

“Wait.” Henry’s voice rang out, and Raelyn opened her eyes. The soldier waited for Henry’s orders. “This upstart was raised as a monster in a cave,” Henry said. “We can’t expect him to know courtly etiquette.”

Raelyn winced. Alex would have to give an exceptional speech to counteract Henry’s posturing and lies. The guard lowered the baton and stepped back.

“Lords of Rethalyon.” Alex bowed to the Court, which must have hurt his back, but he did it with graceful poise, anyway. “I did spend the last twelve years in a cave, hiding from my uncle. But I am hardly uneducated in the ways of kingship. My father’s faithful steward, Jasper Walters, ensured I was taught how to be king in the event my curse was ever broken, and I was able to reclaim my throne.”

The lords shifted and commented to each other, but Alex didn’t give them much time to consider his words.

“I will not treat this man as a king after he murdered his sister and his king and then cursed me, his nephew and prince.” As Alex explained why he believed Henry had killed his parents and how his uncle had cursed him, he slowly looked over the lords, talking to each of them in turn. The lords hung on his words as he recounted how his curse was broken; how Tristan nearly killed him. When he told them that he loved Raelyn and wanted to marry her, she blushed. She eyed Tristan, trying not to fidget. His hands curled into fists on the arms of his throne.

“I do not seek vengeance,” Alexander finished. “I seek justice. I want to see this murderer ousted from my father’s throne and my crown removed from his head. I want the lies that Henry spread about my parents corrected. I want to carry on my mother’s legacy of kindness and my father’s legacy of peace. I want to forge an enduring alliance between Rethalyon and Eynlae, to the mutual prosperity of both kingdoms, by following the treaty my father signed and marrying Princess Raelyn. And I want to serve the people of Rethalyon as a merciful but just king.”

Raelyn observed Alex and his effect on the Court with pride. She suspected Jasper had helped him craft his speech, but he had said it flawlessly, his tone authoritative even as he stood barefoot and chained. Alex bowed to the lords and turned to face the daises. He smiled at her, and she beamed back.

“An interesting and well-crafted story,” Henry said, sounding bored. “But mere fiction. Tristan. Tell our people the truth.”

Tristan stood. He clasped his hands behind his back, his knuckles white. “My father is a good man and a wise king who has led Rethalyon in prosperity. His experience should not be discarded because of the…” He gulped. “Because of unfounded accusations.”

You know they’re not unfounded!Raelyn wanted to scream.

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