Page 138 of Prize for the King
“It wasn’t the best day for it, after all,” Raduna murmurs quietly with a regretful sigh. “With the trial tomorrow and everything.”
I deflate, responsibilities weighing down my shoulders.The trial.Oh, no, I cannot risk breaking it all today. I hope that’s not what willhappen, of course, but I’ve been here a short while, and I don’t know everything about the Agnidari, their values, their beliefs. What if they decide my father’s depravity is hereditary? What if they’ll believe me sullied and broken?
Not today. Sometime else. It’s enough that I know now. Maybe I’ll deal with it on my own. Maybe I’ll never have to tell them.
Arvi steps away with a sigh, and I straighten, looking up at Raduna. His eyes are kind as always, and warm. Yes, he is fatherly—in the way of a normal, healthy father who would sacrifice his pleasure for his child, not the other way round.
“My invitation will always be open,” he says softly. “You can tell me anything, my love, and I will not judge or hate you. I promise.”
My heart squeezes tight with longing so powerful, it takes my breath away. He’s never called mehis lovebefore. And I realize I could say it back with no trouble now. The darkness is gone. I trust Raduna, because I know what kind of father he was.
The kind I would have wanted for myself.
“I will,” I promise, my voice so hoarse, I barely hear myself. “But not today.”
XLII Trial
I stand on a dais in Magnar’s austere throne room. It’s smaller than the one in Farneer and darker, with standing room only for everyone but the king and queen. Magnar sits on his throne, sprawled comfortably behind me.
Before we came in, he cupped the back of my head in his palm and gave me a hard, almost bruising kiss. When he let me go, I could barely catch my breath, and he laughed.
“Slay, my queen.”
I only managed a pale smile.Slay, indeed. Because if I am successful, someone will die.
Before me stand the ministers, Ronan in shackles and flanked by guards. Behind them are a few generals, a group of courtiers, and representatives from Roharra’s five main regions. They are the spokespeople for their towns and villages.
A royal trial is a big event, especially the first one led by the new queen.
My hands shake, and I clasp them tightly behind my back. I’m wearing a crown, a slim one encrusted with obsidians and rubies. Magnar bears its more masculine, heavier version.
“Thank you for coming,” I say when the crowd settles.
I instantly see the sneers and eye rolls, and my heart hammers evenfaster, my palms sweating. No, I don’t speak their language. They understand me, because Magnar made the language of the Eleven mandatory in the army and his court. But it doesn’t mean they like it.
“I am going to try Ronan, the Minister of Beekeeping, for treason. Bring him forward.”
Whispers and murmurs break out in the back rows. Ministers are usually tried for negligence, since it’s the lightest offense, and it allows their families to remain honorable.
Treason means everyone associated with Ronan will be tainted, and the only possible punishment for him is death.
The shackles ring and clink as the guards push him closer. He stops right in front of me, and I swallow with difficulty. I hadn’t thought this part through. Yes, I stand on a dais, but he’s an Agnidari. I barely see the crowd over the top of his head, and he knows it. His eyes are insolent and hard, mouth twisted with loathing.
“And on his knees.” I clench my fists hard behind my back, forcing my face to remain impassive.
One of the ministers I have an eye on, Lagnar, comes forward. “You will make him kneel, Your Majesty? The man has a right to defend himself as per our customs.”
Our customs.It’s a vicious jab delivered with perfect courtesy. I take a deep breath, hating the fact I have no lectern to stand behind so at least my legs wouldn’t be seen. The dress should cover the shaking of my knees, but if it gets any worse, my entire skirts will flutter along with my anxious heart.
For the hundredth time today, I remind myself why I’m doing this. Magnar hates dealing with the council, and I’ll be glad to take at least this burden off his shoulders.
But first, I must make the council respect me.
“And he shall defend himself, minister,” I say, my voicesounding cool despite my nerves. “In due course. Unless you believetreasonis a trivial matter and should be treated carelessly, of course.”
Lagnar gives me a small bow and retreats, my point made. At the far end of the throne room, there is a commotion. I strain my eyes.
Idrina comes in her chair on wheels, pushed by Khay. He gives me a quick, reassuring smile, and wheels her slowly through the crowd to the front. I don’t know whether to feel comforted or even more nervous, so I do my best not to look at her.
