For Want of a Fiend (33 page)

“And how, Your Grace,” Da said, “will we deal with so many tongues wanting their say? A trial could take years.”

“Fair point,” Countess Nadia said.

Earl Lamont knocked on the wooden table. “We must consult the records. Our forebears laid out rules for just such occasions.”

Everyone was forced to agree, and page boys were sent to fetch the fat old volumes from the library, rules of order and guidelines for how a trial would be set forth. They spent the next hours poring over them, sifting through old-fashioned terms and outdated courtesies.

Nobles’ trials were meant to have selections of nobles from every tier, with the greatest landowners holding the most seats. The king or queen and the heir would attend, so would every duke or duchess. Below that, it became a bit hazy, the lesser nobles being divided by acreage. The whole enterprise made Katya’s head spin. They finally settled on every earl—there were three left—four counts, three viscounts, three barons, and two lords, each to be chosen by seniority and regardless of gender.

The lords and ladies grumbled, but since most of their tier rarely came to court, the rest of the party shouted them down. Some of the nobles would have to be called in from the countryside and given the option to decline being on the council at all.

Earl Lamont thumbed through another old document. “Our forebears wrote of a gallery as well, holding some nobles who may not speak but shall bear witness.” He made a note on a piece of parchment. “There’s another list to argue over. As well as…” He peered at the yellowed pages. “It says, ‘various leaders of great standing and appreciation in the city of Marienne and those courtiers who have proven themselves of honorable fashion and unstained character.’”

“That rules them all out,” Castelle said. Only a few people snickered.

One lord sneered. “Leaders of the city? Some of us will be excluded to make room for commoners?”

Katya fought not to roll her eyes.

Earl Lamont looked over his spectacles. “The law is the law.”

“A captain of the Watch,” Castelle added smoothly, “is a leader in great standing and appreciation of the city.”

“So are the masters of the Pyradisté Academy and the Halls of Law,” Da supplied.

“The champion of Farraday,” Countess Nadia said.

Duke Robert frowned. “He’s a lord.”

Earl Lamont scanned the book again. “This calls for the champion, though not as a speaker on the council.”

“Well,” Duke Robert said slowly, “a city magistrate has as great a standing and appreciation of the city as a Watch captain.”

Katya’s gut froze. She knew he was speaking of Magistrate Anthony. She was about to protest when her father touched her shoulder. Anthony wouldn’t be able to speak, after all. He would only be a witness.

“It seems we have another list to make after our arguing nobles, Lamont,” Da said.

They debated again for hours and finally decided on the gallery, including a great many nobles and courtiers, the masters of the Pyradisté Academy and the Halls of Law, a commander of the Watch instead of a captain, a magistrate of the people and his assistant, and the supreme heads of all the various chapterhouses in Marienne.

As each was decided, Katya tried to list in her head who would stand with them and who against them but found the task almost impossible.

As soon as Starbride saw the enemy pyradisté locked in the dungeons, she retreated to her apartment to clean up and change. Everyone else was tending to their wounds; Starbride had something more important to tend to.

Her mother fussed over the cut on her forehead and her dirty, disheveled outfit full of tears and snags. The leather had probably saved her life, but all her mother could see was the mess.

“You should go home,” Starbride said, interrupting her mother’s rant about nobles and their parties.

“What did you say?”

“There won’t be any more outings or picnics or parties. The nobles are gathering, Mother. It may be that…it won’t be safe here.”

“If it’s not safe enough for me…”

“I can’t go. Katya needs me.”

“And you need me.”

Starbride shook her head slowly. “Only pyramids and weapons can help me now.”

Her mother stared at her. As silly as she seemed at times, she wasn’t stupid, far from it. “They could use me against you.”

Starbride closed her eyes, terrified by the thought, and yet so relieved she hadn’t been the one to say it. Her mother’s touch on her chin made her open her eyes again.

“How can I leave my extraordinary daughter in danger? My one child?”

“If it becomes too dangerous, I’ll gather the lot of them, and we’ll all vacation in Allusia.”

Her mother breathed a laugh. “I’ll have the spare room made up. I hope they don’t mind squashing together.”

Dawnmother and Rainhopeful said their own good-byes. Starbride’s mother never lost the pinched look between her brows, even when Starbride saw her packed and stocked with provisions. They’d have to stop for the night not far out of Marienne, but Starbride thought that better than staying another night in the palace. Her mother gave her one last hug, and then they were gone into the dusk, Starbride marveling at the idea that she could feel heavier and lighter at the same time but for far different reasons.

Hours later, Starbride waited, and at last the dirty, bedraggled Katya wandered into her apartment. She sent Dawnmother for hot water. After the exhausting day, Dawnmother had ordered Averie to bed hours before. Katya smiled when she heard it. “I bet her face was something to behold.”

“She barely argued,” Dawnmother said, “just made some feeble protests until her head hit the pillow. I had to cover her with a blanket.” After the hot water and a small basin arrived, Dawnmother left them alone.

“I’m too tired for a bath,” Katya said.

“Then we’ll do what we can with a washcloth and soap.”

Katya grinned and eased into a chair. “Can’t sleep with stinky royalty?”

“You’ll feel better once you’re clean.” She helped Katya strip off her clothes and then sit in a robe with her feet in the washbasin.

Katya raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were going to bathe me.”

“
Bathe
being the word. Don’t expect anything more.”

Katya groaned in disappointment, but it was a feeble protest. Even as Starbride scrubbed up her legs, her eyes were going half-lidded. They popped open briefly as Starbride ventured higher, but she didn’t linger on any specific area.

After Katya was clean and her wounds tended, Starbride leaned her back in a chair, over the basin. “Now, let’s see what we can do about that hair.”

Katya hummed in pleasure as Starbride massaged her scalp. “We have our council, finally. It took some doing to get everyone to agree.”

“I was wondering if you were going to tell me now or wait until morning.”

“My father and I are included. The rest was a struggle down to the last courtier. Every noble got to choose an assistant to take notes for them. I chose you, since consorts can’t be present in their own right.”

“Should I love you or hit you?”

“I doubt my father will choose anyone. He won’t need notes; he’ll crib from Earl Lamont.”

“And what of the other nobles?”

Katya went through a long, exhaustive list, most of whom Starbride didn’t know. She picked out Countess Nadia, Earl Lamont, and Duke Robert.

“It
would
be Duke Robert,” Starbride said.

“All of the dukes and duchesses who don’t decline to come will have a seat.”

“No Viscount Lenvis, Baroness Castelle, or Lord Hugo?”

“Far too young to make the cut.”

“Do we know anything about the rest?”

Katya shrugged, and as she spoke, her voice lost momentum. “Not as much as we’d like. Master Bernard from the Pyradisté Academy will be there as a witness.”

“Moral support, then.”

“Lady Hilda wouldn’t ask for a council trial unless she had something up her sleeve.”

Starbride finished rinsing Katya’s hair and wrapped it up in a towel. “I sent my mother home.”

Katya opened one eye. “Is that good or bad? I can’t recall.”

“Both. I pronounce you clean.”

“I pronounce me tired.”

“This way then, Crown Princess Tired. The royal bedchamber awaits.”

Katya’s lips were warm against her cheek. “Why were you ever a courtier when you could have been a lady’s maid?”

“I wouldn’t bathe anyone but you.”

“For that I am very grateful.”

*

The next morning they prepared for the trial. The servants cleared one of the ballrooms of frippery; it was the only space large enough to accommodate the council. They left the dais where it sat. As the king and crown princess, Katya and King Einrich had the right to sit above the others. They thought it best to remind everyone of that fact.

Starbride tended to agree. Katya’s family were not only the rulers, they were the injured party. Everyone needed to be reminded of both those facts. The servants brought in long tables and laid them out in a square, with one end open so witnesses and the accused could pass in and out, and so the Umbriels, separate on their dais, would be sitting at the figurative head.

As the debate began about who would sit where, Starbride tried her best not to sigh. The nobles would sit in order of title, starting from the empty middle where the king would be and leading around both sides, leaving the lords to sit at the opposite end. Chairs were then put in rows behind the square for the gallery, nobles up front, everyone else behind to bicker amongst themselves as to who would sit where.

Starbride watched the arrivals from the curtained area behind the dais, the royal waiting room. The commoners who filled most of the gallery seats didn’t seem to care where they sat as long as they were in the room.

The Umbriels would enter the ballroom last, not for another hour, but the commoners seemed so excited that most had already arrived, all except Magistrate Anthony and his new assistant. Most of the nobles relegated to watching were there as well; they scooted away from the common people with looks of distaste. Luckily, the courtiers served as a nice buffer between the two groups.

The curtain moved slightly, disturbed by someone entering the small room by the door at Starbride’s back. She turned, expecting to see Katya, maybe King Einrich.

Roland stood there, bold as brass, and smiling as if they were old friends. Starbride forgot to breathe, too stunned to even fall backward through the curtain.

Roland put one finger to his lips. “Cry out and you force me to activate every pyramid on my person. I’d survive. Would you?”

Starbride’s breath came in shallow gasps. She wanted to run, but his words seeped into her thoughts.

“You look like a gasping fish.” He stepped closer, fingers splayed on the breast of his simple coat. “I’m only here today in an advisory capacity, but I knew you’d see through my disguise, so I thought I’d say hello.”

He looked different from when she’d seen him, it was true. He’d dyed his hair redder, and his beard wasn’t so neatly trimmed. It made the lower half of his face far heavier, but he was still plainly the dead Prince Roland. “Your own family will know you,” she whispered.

“You and Master Bernard will be the only ones to see through my disguise.”

Starbride squinted at him, fascinated in spite of herself. “You’re using a pyramid?”

“Master Bernard and I have never actually met, so no trouble there.”

“You’re betting a lot.”

He actually laughed. “You’re so bright, perfect for my niece. Are you sure you won’t join the winning team? Won’t convince Little K to join me?”

“You’re a murderer!” She cast a glance at the curtain again. “You tried to kill us.”

“I wouldn’t have killed you. Lady Hilda acted on her own. It just happened to fit very neatly with what I have in mind for Farraday. Nothing I’ve done could have been accomplished if people were perfectly happy under Einrich’s rule.”

“No one is ever perfectly happy.”

He didn’t lose his smile, but it gained a sinister edge, and his features seemed to ripple before settling. “They will be during my reign.”

Starbride backed away and tried to edge around him. She couldn’t lead him out among the crowded ballroom.

Roland stepped aside and gestured toward the door. “Go ahead. I won’t stop you.”

“I’ll tell Katya.”

“Do so. If she chooses to draw on Magistrate Anthony’s assistant, how will that look? Ah, did you suspect that? In his grief, the dear magistrate needed a firm hand holding him up. I’ve done what I can.”

Starbride licked her lips and tried to think. No wonder the magistrate had turned against them so completely.

Roland shrugged. “I’ve already told you what will happen if the, uh, fur begins to fly. Do you really think I’m above killing everyone in that room?” His eyes flicked toward the council chamber. “Einrich and Katya might survive it with their Fiends, maybe, but everyone else?”

After a wink, Roland strode through the door, leaving it open. Starbride waited a few heartbeats. If she told King Einrich and Katya, they would insist on acting, but that might play right into Roland’s plans. Disguised as Anthony’s assistant, he would plead ignorance and look like a victim, more than that, a victim under the supposed protection of the Umbriels’ most-outspoken opponent.

But Anthony himself might be under pyramid influence. An idea flashed into Starbride’s head. If she could break Roland’s disguise pyramid, then everyone would know he was a pyradisté. They might not recognize the man, but he would be exposed as a pyramid user.

What might exposure get them? If King Einrich recognized him and convinced the others that he was the dead prince, Roland would lay waste with his pyramids. Starbride couldn’t neutralize them all, not before he detonated them. How many people would die in those first few seconds?

Katya could be among them. She no longer carried a Fiend.

Starbride ran from the room. She needed advice quickly, and she couldn’t get it from Katya. She raced to Freddie’s tower. He was stepping into his underwear as she burst through the door. He hopped back, grabbed a dagger from a nearby table, and cocked to throw before he seemed to recognize her.