Page 22 of Rook of Ruin
“Hello, O. Waiting to be called in?” Out of nowhere, the man from the carriage, Simon, approaches, giving a lazy smile and acurt bow. I reply with a short curtsy. His black fighting leathers have what appears to be silver weaved throughout, making Simon seem both severe and handsome. I want to examine them more closely, but it would be improper. I doubt he is the kind of man who would think I lack decorum for doing so, but the Ravens would see, and that could lead to rumors.
His curly salt-and-pepper hair is slicked back, with the exception of a loose curl laying perfectly on his forehead. The child in me wants to reach up and shove it back with the rest of his hair. I would really lack decorum if I did that.
“Yes.” I sigh. He looks me up and down, not in a leering manner, but in a helpful,if something is out of place, I will help you fix itway.
“I apologize. I’m afraid I am the cause of your discomfort. Shall we go in?” His disarming smile deepens, and his dimples scoop into his face. Simon is a mystery of a man, and I find myself wondering who he really is.
He opens the doors and strides in without a care in the world. I meekly walk behind him, waiting to be decimated by the Ravens for bursting in unannounced. Simon walks down the center of the room between two long oak tables. Twelve people sit at each table, judging us, each expression different from the last. Some smile, some sneer, some leer, but most show their obvious disapproval.
Queen Inara sits in the middle of the room at an oak table of her own with several Crow scribes on either side, their papers scattered around. A small table sits to her right without an occupant, and Ravens stand behind the stoic queen. Bright light filtering in from the large windows gives the ivory, gold, and blue room a warm feeling.
“I need a guarantee that the girl—” an old man with a puss face tries to finish as Simon cuts him off with a sharp glare and a bow before the queen. I follow his lead with a curtsy.
“I deeply apologize for my tardiness, Your Majesty. I truly regret that I was detained. If I may approach.” Simon waits until Queen Inara grants him her forgiveness and dismisses the scribes at her table before allowing him to approach. Simon straightens, gives me a cheeky wink, and glides over to her table. Their voices blend together in low murmurs, and a few lords and ladies lean in, trying to catch a word or two. The queen nods and motions for him to sit at the small table. Her scribes scramble to take their seats, afraid to miss something important. Simon saunters into his seat, a smile on his mouth as he looks at each lord and lady. They practically melt.
Who is this man?
Queen Inara regards me coolly with her ice blue eyes and thin lips, her long-sleeved, velvet, ivory gown blending in with the walls. Her grey hair is in a soft chignon, propping up the large gold and diamond crown. The high-backed, blue velvet chair makes her small, thin frame seem childlike. She has never been an exceptional beauty; rather, her beauty depends on lavish clothes and jewels. Once a warrior, the queen is poised as if waiting for someone to bring her a sword.
“Lady Orlaith Verlan.” The queen speaks sternly while her long fingers stretch out in front of her on the table. “You stand before us because you refused to heal Matron of the Locker, resulting in her death. As my most powerful healer, there is no excuse as to why you were unable to heal her. You murdered three Rooks, one a superior officer. You also murdered a prisoner without due cause. You have broken your vows. You will provide me with the names of your co-conspirators, who have also committed treason against me and our great kingdom.”
I’m stunned. My brain is trying to gather my thoughts and form them into words. “My queen”—I look at her straight in theeye—“my lords and ladies”—I quickly scan each face—“I assure you, I am not—”
“But how can we trust your assurance?” I’m interrupted by a frail lady in a pale pink gown with too much rouge on her cheeks. Duchess Borlo very much disapproves of me, always has after I kicked her son in the shin for tripping a maid. “How do we know anything you say will be truthful? Your Highness, may I propose again that a Grey Sister extract her memories so we may see the truth for ourselves? It might be . . .unpleasantfor Lady Verlan, but I’m sure, given the gravity of the situation, she would be most willing to submit.” A ripple of agreement is voiced, and a few lords and ladies nod.
They want to torture me until I am on the brink of death, or to the point where I believe I am going to die, and extract my memories. To be fair, I’ve done it to criminals with offenses equal to my charges. I’m surprised I haven’t been in the Locker this whole time. Instead, I’m standing here, dripping in jewels.
“Duchess Borlo,” the queen replies in a clipped tone, “I have already denied your request. I will not do so kindly again.”
A lady next to Duchess Borlo squares her shoulders. “We must have the truth. I ask for a Truth Seer.” She taps her fingers against her mouth and squints her brown eyes at me, like I’m a problem to solve. She is in her mid-thirties and her hawkish features are offset by the two large diamonds pierced into her cheeks.
“I agree.” A plump man with a long, grey beard gives me an apologetic look as he continues, “We should use a Truth Seer. But use the Spider as well. We gain the information, and it eases the mind of my fellow advisors.” A burst of agreement comes from both sides of the aisle.
The queen’s lips form into a smirk—she was expecting this. She waves her hand to quiet the room and speaks directly tome. “You will submit to the questions asked by my advisors, including our guest, Sir Caddel.”
Caddel. The same surname as the king of Bethal.Simon. Most likely a relation to King Caddel and his sons, Prince Cian and Prince Callan. Given Simon’s knighthood plus the prominence to the queen, he’s probably the king’s nephew. This is why he is so popular with the queen and her council. Sir Simon Caddel. Not a bad name. It could be worse—it could be Alec Ossian.
My queen has given an order, and I will comply. There is no other option.
A Raven brings a chair out to my side. Queen Inara motions for me to sit, and I do, quickly. To the right of the room, a hidden door opens, and Alec emerges. His brown leathers are a stark contrast to his dark hair braided out of his face. The three braids have small blue bands at the bottoms that touch his shoulder, and the large braid down the center of his head has ivory beads resembling long, sharp teeth. The cruel expression on his face makes him look even more the depraved Spider they expect him to be. Last night, this man was softly pulling the pins out of my hair, and the man before me now is a ferocious monster.
I’ve worked with Alec long enough to know he is a violent man. I’ve seen the Spider’s venomous fangs break the minds of strong men and women. I know the pain his power can inflict, just as I know the physical pain he tries to hide when his prey fights against his web. We will both feel pain today . . . unless I allow him in, then I will be the only one in pain. He turns his head towards me, his grey eyes blazing silver.
I must endure him.
Another Rook steps out from behind Alec. His mousy face is peppered with freckles, and his auburn hair is pulled back into a single braid. He is slightly nervous, peeking a look at the queen and then me. Truth Seer. The brace on his arm is white gold, and flecks of amethyst are speckled throughout. There are onlythree Truth Seers in the whole kingdom. All at the disposal of the queen and used sparingly. They, like myself, don’t leave the castle walls.
The men bow deeply to the queen, and she explains what is expected of each of them. They bow deeply again in acknowledgement of her orders. The queen gives instructions to her advisors—they each get two questions; if the question was asked and answered, they must move on. The queen’s blue eyes pierce into my hazel ones. “You know this will be painful—I do not doubt you have seen the Rook’s power before. If you pass out, you will be sent to the Locker until you can be brought back and submitted to questioning again. If you die, then so be it. I suggest you not struggle too much against this Rook.” She tilts her head towards Alec.
Fuck.
Simon’s eyes catch mine, and his mouth is a grim line, no easy smile. His fists are on the small table, and his knuckles have turned white. He gives me a small, encouraging nod.
By the time Alec and the Truth Seer reach me, my mind is on edge. The Truth Seer stands to my left, shifting his weight. Alec kneels before me, and a small smile wants to escape my lips. He’s on his knees before me, his eyes locked onto mine. He told me he would be; in his own words, he told me exactly what would happen today. Alec is on his knees, asking me—not the queen, not the advisors,me. He told me to know my worth. I peer into his silver eyes to show him I do know it. I give a small nod.Permission.
“Please take off her brace,” the queen commands. Alec gently obeys, his eyes holding on to me, letting me know he will be with me. He hands my brace to the Truth Seer. “Begin.”
Alec’s brace glows, and the room falls silent. Sharp prickles begin to climb up the back of my neck. I shut my eyes briefly, trying to control the reflex to shake my head. It feels like tinyspiders with sharp fangs are crawling, piercing my skin, making their way to the top of my head. They spread out over my skin, biting down and injecting venom as they go, searching for a way in. They finally penetrate my head by digging great crevasses, scraping the sides of my skull while they slide down into my mind.Don’t fight.I allow them in and try to embrace the sharp fangs, which turn quickly into a thousand stabbing knives. My nose is bleeding into my mouth and dripping down my chin, my teeth are clenched so tight that they might break, and my hands grip the sides of the chair. I open my eyes to the man before me. His silver eyes are on mine.
