Page 21 of Bride of the Black Dragon
“Her trial?” I say blankly. “What on earth is she on trial, for?”
“Why, for stealing the Queen’s ruby necklace, of course!” Bridget exclaims. “The Crown Prince saw her do it!”
“He did not!” I blurt, before I think. How could Dorian pin his crime on such an innocent, kind-hearted, loyal soul? Tanzy has never been anything but good to me—I can’t believe he decided she would make the perfect culprit for his theft.
“Oh yes, he did!” Bridget nods vigorously. “The Queen noticed it missing this morning and he said he saw her sneaking out of the royal rooms with something cupped in her hand. It must be the ruby pendant.”
I’m beginning to wonder if Dorian chose my personal maid as his target on purpose—to get back at me. After all, he’s the most likely culprit for the burrs under my saddle. Maybe he’s still trying to punish me for seeing him with Henri.
Well, he’s not going to get away with it!
“I have to go,” I say. “I can’t let them do this to Tanzy—she never took anything!”
I turn to leave the room…and realize I’m still in my night clothes.
“You’d best let me help you get dressed before you go out anywhere, my Princess,” Bridget says helpfully. “And if you’re wanting to speak on Tanzy’s behalf—which is mighty good of you—you’ll need to hurry to make it to her trial, which is being held in the Queen’s private parlor.”
“They’re really going to put her on trial?” I shake my head. “I can’t believe this place!”
“It’s the way things are done here at the Citadel,” Bridget says gravely. “And if you have something to say for her, you’d best be sure you have proof. Elseways, she’ll lose a hand for stealing from the Queen.”
“Lose a hand?” I can’t believe the barbarity!
“Better than losing your head,” Bridget says simply. “Here—let’s get you dressed.”
She puts me into a flowing moss green dress with long sleeves which looks good with my skin color and does my hair quickly, putting it up in a simple chignon.
The Court fashion is to twist one’s hair through a thin metal frame to make a towering structure decorated with flowers and baubles. However, the round base of the frame which rests on the top of your head gives me a headache and I feel ridiculous with my hair three feet above my head. So I’ve been wearing it down or in more simple fashions. I’m sure my Mother-in-law doesn’t approve of me flouting Court couture but I’m not willing to have a metal frame digging into my skull for hours at a time, just to make her happy.
I’m quickly ready to go and I rush down the corridor to the Queen’s private parlor, only to find half the Court has already crowded into it.
Standing on tiptoes, I try to see above the mass of Nobles blocking the doorway. The Queen is sitting on a padded bench in the front of the room and standing before her are the Crown Prince and Tanzy. My poor maid has red-rimmed eyes and her pale cheeks are streaked with tears.
“Please, Your Majesty,” she’s saying in a trembling voice. “I didn’t take anything from your rooms! I never would!”
“She did—I saw her!” Prince Dorian looks down his nose at Tanzy, as though she’s less than dirt. “She was hiding it in her palm but I saw the gleam of the Queen’s ruby. The only question is if she’s already sold it or not.”
“I’ve heard all I need to hear!” the Queen declares. “Executioner, do you have the block? You’ll need to take this maid’s hand.”
A grim-faced man with a gray beard dressed all in black comes forward. He has a small but heavy chopping block with him as well as a hatchet with a heavy head and a wickedly sharp blade. It gleams in the light of the crystal chandelier overhead.
I’ve been trying to push my way in through the crowd all this time, but no one wants to let me through. As I see the guards on either side of Tanzy force her to put her arm on the block, I’m afraid I won’t get there in time!
“Stop!” I shout, raising my voice as loudly as I can. “Stop now—stop this!”
Everyone looks around and people make faces of surprise and disgust. It’s rude to shout in public and even worse to raise your voice around the Queen. But at this point I don’t care about Court manners—I just want to keep Tanzy safe.
“Get out of the way—let me through!” I exclaim. I’m done being polite—I’m elbowing my way through the crowd, many of whom look at me like I’m some kind of dirty peasant trying to pick their pockets.
The Queen looks annoyed, but she holds up a hand to the executioner, who has his hatchet poised above Tanzy’s trembling hand.
“What do you mean by this?” she demands, as I reach the front of the crowd. “How dare you interrupt a public punishment?”
“Your Majesty, this isn’t right,” I say in a low voice. “Tanzy didn’t have anything to do with your pendant going missing.”
“Oh, and I suppose you know who did?” Her eyebrows raise and she gives me a skeptical look.
“Yes, I do. And I’ll be pleased to tell you—but in private,” I say. I have a feeling that things will go more smoothly without half the Court watching.
