Page 101 of Kingdom of Feathers

“I didn’t give her any power, Your Majesty,” protested Sir Gelding, looking frantic. “I would never gift my magic to a foul, disease-riddled fool like that enchantress.”

Wren frowned as she studied his face. He certainly seemed sincere, but that didn’t mean much. He’d obviously been successfully deceiving everyone for years.

“Who did, then?” scoffed King Lloyd, clearly disbelieving the denial.

Sir Gelding opened his mouth, then closed it again. A look of frustration passed over his face, and Wren’s frown deepened. It was a painfully familiar expression to her.

“Someone…someone else,” the baronet managed at last.

“Compelling evidence,” said King Lloyd icily. “So you didn’t give her your magic to use, but you did craft a plan to murder my daughter and frame the Entolian crown for it, so as to provoke conflict between the two kingdoms that would distract everyone enough to allow you to clandestinely mine fire jasper out from under the contested land.”

“Certainly not, Your Majesty!” Sir Gelding tried desperately. “The princes misunderstood me earlier. I only heard of the plan later—I had no hand in it!”

Wren snorted, as a cleared throat made everyone turn toward the small group of Entolians. The one soldier among them stepped forward, bowing to King Lloyd. His eyes sought Basil, who gave him a curt nod, then he faced the Mistran king again.

“My name is Sergeant Obsidian, Your Majesty,” he said smartly, “of the Entolian armed forces. I am an enchanter myself,” he grimaced slightly as he said the words, “specifically gifted with the ability to detect deception.” His gaze passed dispassionately to Sir Gelding. “And that man just lied to you through his teeth, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you, Sergeant,” said King Lloyd, his eyes fixed coldly on the protesting Sir Gelding. “I don’t even need magic to recognize that. So you did give your power to the woman as well, I take it?”

Again Sergeant Obsidian cleared his throat. “Actually, Your Majesty,” he said, sounding a little surprised himself, “that part did not appear to be a lie. Just what came after.”

Basil shifted, and Wren looked over to see him raise an eyebrow, studying Sir Gelding thoughtfully. “Are you part of an organized group of Mistran and Entolian conspirators, who came together six years ago to plot against the two crowns and steal the ore out from under our land?”

Sir Gelding opened his mouth as if to deny it, but his gaze flicked resentfully to Sergeant Obsidian, and he nodded instead, his expression sullen.

“And are you in a position to name every one of those conspirators?” King Lloyd pressed.

Again, Sir Gelding nodded sulkily.

“Well.” King Lloyd’s voice had turned brisk. “Clearly there is more to be learned from you, Sir Gelding.” He nodded to the guards. “Take him away.”

Wren shook Ari’s arm off and turned back toward Basil, not wanting to waste another minute on the traitorous baronet. She could hardly miss his venomous words, however, as he was dragged past her.

“You ruined it all, you pathetic excuse for a princess. One seductive glance from a boy masquerading as a king, and you lose your head and start digging into things that don’t concern you. It would have been better for Mistra if you’d died in the first place, like we planned.”

Wren felt Basil stiffen beside her, and saw his hands curl into fists at his sides. “Watch yourself,” he growled.

Sir Gelding laughed in his face. “You think I attacked your little sweetheart these last months just because the two of you were asking too many questions? I never intended to remove Mistra’s heirs, but dragon’s flame, I’d rather my king had no successor than be followed by a spineless princess too afraid to open her mouth. I would never have let her be queen!”

Wren stared icily back at him, refusing to let him see how his poisonous insults stung her. “You are pathetic,” she said, pleased with how calmly her words came out.

Basil, on the other hand, seemed to have been deserted by his legendary calm. He took a step forward, his frame tense and his hands still balled. But before he could act, a shape hurtled past them both and connected with Sir Gelding’s nose. The baronet cried out in pain, and Wren leaped forward to steady her swaying brother.

“Thank you, Wren,” said Caleb with dignity, leaning heavily on her shoulder to keep from falling. “That answers the question as to whether I can still throw a punch.” Once he was steady on his feet, he stepped away from her. “It’s a good thing the curse didn’t target my right wing, isn’t it?” He shook out the hand of his still-strong right arm, flexing the fingers which appeared to have just broken Sir Gelding’s nose.

“Take him away before I lose my patience and execute him on the spot!” growled King Lloyd, who had hurried forward to stand beside his son.

The guards resumed their progress toward the door, but Sir Gelding was still spitting insults, even as blood poured down his chin.

“You think you can all make a fool of me?” he roared, his eyes on Wren. She read his intent in his eyes a moment before he struck, but there was no time to do more than gasp as he ripped one arm free from the guard who held it and passed his fingers over the rings on his other hand.

His lips were moving, muttering words Wren couldn’t catch, and she had the unidentifiable sense of something rushing toward her. From force of long habit, she let out no scream, but Basil’s yell sliced through the air as he threw himself in front of her.

The shout turned into a cry of pain as Sir Gelding’s magic hit Basil, and Wren’s scream was ripped from her at last as she hurled herself toward where he lay on the floor. Her newly righted world spun around her, terror ripping at her chest. It was like the first attack all over again, except this time she had no ring to protect her, and the figure writhing painfully on the floor was Basil. She couldn’t lose him!

But as she curled her body protectively across his, she felt only a flicker of pain from Sir Gelding’s magic. Her mind quieted, and two voices separated from the general noise, shouting unfamiliar words from behind her. Basil stilled where he lay, his breathing rapid but unlabored. The sergeant enchanter and the merchant enchantress appeared at his side, their eyes scanning their king anxiously as a full dozen Mistran guards converged on Sir Gelding.

“Basil!” Wren cried, anguished.

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