Authors: Rebecca A. Rogers
A tiny woman with pixie hair reads off the next name on the list.
It’s Daphne.
Governor Hadi doesn’t hesitate to begin as soon as she takes a seat. “Tell me, Daphne, how long did you work under Andrina?”
“For as long as she was ‘ere, sir.”
“So, a few weeks at most?”
“I’d say so.”
“During the duration you served her, were there any comments made about how she’d help Legora, the place she came from?”
“Well, yes,” she says. Governor Hadi raises his eyebrows, probing for more answers. “She ‘ad said she’d do anything to help her people.”
“Anything?” he questions.
Daphne fidgets. “She jus’ wanted ta aid ‘em.”
“Would you think that means, say, pushing for a marriage?”
“No, but—”
“Or maybe she wanted the King’s riches for her own, so her family could live peacefully.”
Daphne shakes her head emphatically. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Oh, I think you’ve made your point very clear.” He sweeps his head from side to side, acknowledging his fellow judges. “Are we in agreement?”
They concur.
Poor Daphne. I know she means well, but she didn’t know the way she worded her testimony. The sorrowful glance she quickly passes in my direction discerns she was only trying to help. I mouth,
It’s okay.
“You are dismissed. Let us continue with the next name on the list.” Governor Hadi exhales a diminutive sigh. Like he’s bored and wants this over with as soon as possible. How does he think I feel?
The man who found me screaming, and with the murder weapon in my hand, strides into the room and takes a seat. His lips move in response to Governor Hadi’s, but I’m so unfocused on what they’re saying. My mind’s already made the assumption that this man will be the one to bring me down.
Governor Hadi licks the tip of his finger, and then flips through a couple of the pages in his hands.
“—and what did you witness that morning?”
This man’s eyes aren’t here. They have a certain glazed effect, and I’m willing to bet they drugged him. He’s utterly out of it.
“What?” the man slurs.
“The morning in question. The morning your King was murdered in cold blood.”
“Oh,” he says. “That.”
Governor Hadi is not thrilled with the performance of this witness. Someone gave him a little too much.
“Um, she did it.” He lethargically raises his arm and points at me.
Governor Hadi squeezes the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut. “Did what?”
“Killed him.”
“Thank you, Barton. Next time, try to sober up before an important event such as this.”
The man stumbles over his own two feet on the way out and talks to himself; though I can’t make out what he’s saying because his speech is so impaired.
Governor Hadi stands, clapping his hands together twice to make sure he has everyone’s attention. “We’re going to break for refreshments. Everyone, please meet here at the new hour.” So this means I’ll be thrown back into my cell, with no food or drink, while everyone else fills their bellies with puddings and fried meat and large glasses filled with purple juice.
But, just to be on the safe side, I ask, “Where am I to go?”
“Back to where you came.”
I nod. “Thought so.”
“Don’t look so down, Andrina. What did you expect—filtered water and biscuits topped with jams and jellies? Surely not.” Hadi rubs his eye with a fist, mockingly.
“No, but I could at least be served something of nutritional value. I haven’t eaten in days. I’m weak. Both physically and emotionally. It’s the least you could do.”
Something I say must resonate with him. He glances around the room before whispering through his teeth, “Just this once. And nobody’s to know of it. Are we clear?”
“As clear as the glasses in the dining hall,” I reply.
“You can think of it as your last meal.”
I open my mouth to respond, but he’s already striding through the open doors. As normal, I’m escorted back to my dungeon. Even after being in there for two weeks, my nose isn’t unaffected by the stifling odors.
At least ten minutes pass before a footman appears with a tray. Only, the meal before me is nothing more than a handful of steamed vegetables and a chewy brisket.
It’s better than having nothing at all. And my stomach isn’t protesting.
Every last crumb is consumed. My stomach is still upset, though that might not pass until the food is completely digested. I slide the platter toward the door and wait for someone to come pick it up.
For the remainder of the hour, I have to prepare myself for more drugged and paid witnesses churning lies in each direction. Who decided it was a good idea to bring them in to give evidence? Not that any of them have proof. Everyone knows I didn’t do it; they just want me gone.
But I have a plan.
I might be free again. Mama and Mattie wouldn’t have to worry about me anymore because I’d live happily with them in Legora, forgetting everything about the past. I’d apply for a job—any job—in the market. I wouldn’t care about sand in my shoes, or the sun burning my skin. I think, at this point, I’d welcome both.
“They’re waiting for you now. Come with me,” says a guard. I hadn’t noticed the door was open.
With each new step, my hopes rise. I feel giddy, like nothing can stop me. And before Governor Hadi can open his mouth, I say, “I have a proposition.” I try not to let my smile show.
“Oh?” He looks just as shocked as everyone else on the panel. “And you’re in a position to negotiate?”
“I’ve thought about it, and I realize that nobody in Valyad wants me as their Queen. We all know I didn’t murder King Zarek. You all want me gone, so I’ll remove my title and leave. You’ll never hear from me again.”
I’m met with cynical laughter. “You think that’ll actually work?” He eyes the crowd and everyone around him. “Like we’re all brainless enough to believe that you didn’t murder our King?”
“I didn’t,” I say. “And everyone knows that’s the truth.
You
are looking for a reason to have me axed off the map, so you can claim the throne. There’s no other logical motive, and you know it. I’ll gladly give it to you. If you let me leave in peace.”
“So, you expect us to just drop all charges and release you back into the desert?” His mocking laughter has all but ceased.
“Isn’t that what I just explained to you?” I retort. “If not…” I trail off. What other leverage do I have? An uprising? But who would do it? “If not, then you’ll have to answer to the surrounding cities. You’ve cut off supplies, jobs are hard to find. They want a better life.”
His grin slowly fades. “Now, isn’t that something to think about. Let me confer with the room. Wait outside.”
I can’t believe this might actually work. It was short notice, yes. But if they agree to strip me of my crown and everything attached, I won’t complain. So, I gladly pace in front of the closed doors. The hallway is unattended, save for two guards, and it reeks of both indifference and aspiration.
Minutes pass. When my constant moving sucks the energy from me, I sit down on the cold floor. What is there to deliberate on? It’s a simple scheme—one that shouldn’t take this long to figure out. Knowing Governor Hadi, though, he’s making everything that much more difficult.
The metal door opens, and a delegate says I may step inside. I find my seat again. The air is thick, like the ceiling is sinking and purposely going to crush us all. But I know whatever was discussed in here will be revealed to me in a few heartbeats.
“Andrina,” Governor Hadi says, pushing the papers in front of him a few inches away, “we have all come to the conclusion that what you suggested is, in fact, a good idea.” I almost shriek with joy. “However, the people have decided not to be so lenient on this issue. Therefore, they have given you a choice. And you had better thank the stars for this because it’s never happened before.”
Just when I thought I’d get out of here alive, they devise another plan. I don’t want to question it, especially not if it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. But I’m afraid of what these
choices
might be.
“I’m listening,” I say, as if the governor needs any further initiative.
“Your choices are the following: you can say you’re not guilty and stay locked up until your dying breath, or you can admit you’re guilty and we’ll end your suffering tomorrow.”
What? Those aren’t real alternatives. They’re a poor version of each other. Either way, I’m staying here. Either way, I’m going to die.
53.
“That’s not fair,” I say, doing my best not to crumple on the outside like I am on the inside.
“Nothing’s fair anymore,” Governor Hadi reminds me. “And, in Valyad, fair is only based on what you perceive it to be. To us, this is extremely reasonable.”
I can’t help the crack in my voice when I say, “No. You’re doing this on purpose. You’re looking for a way out, something to latch onto, a reason for Zarek’s death. I am none of those.”
“Can you blame us?” Governor Hadi grunts. “If your leader died and nobody knew why, wouldn’t you want to resolve it and move on?”
“I would wait before I made reckless decisions. I wouldn’t sentence someone to death. Doesn’t that only make you drop to their level?”
“Choose your words shrewdly, my dear.” He picks up a crystal glass on the table and sips. “Oh, and another thing. We need your answer right away. We’ve all got other matters to attend to and this trial is…
imposing
.”
“Twenty-four hours.”
Murmurs twist through the air.
“Excuse me?” Governor Hadi practically chokes on his drink.
“I
need
twenty-four hours to decide. How’s that for fair?” I stand, my fist squeezed tightly at my sides.
He eyes me for too long, leaning back in his chair. “Fine,” he finally says. “You have until morning to make your choice.”
I breathe a sigh of reprieve. For the first time since this trial began, my body relaxes. “Thank you.”
“Take her away,” say the governor, twirling his finger in the air. The guards don’t hesitate to carry me off. Back to the holding cell, which may or may not be my final resting place. Depending on my choice.
I can’t believe it’s actually mine to make. This entire delayed proceeding—from the time they arrested me until today—has been nothing more than terrifying. How could I not believe I’d make it out alive? I saw no optimism. Only death, and forever wishing I could kiss Mama and Mattie goodbye.
Now I must tell Valyad I
want
to live, even if it’s in this stingy dungeon for the rest of my days. I’ll take it. I’m in no hurry to leave this world. Not yet.
I would write Mama and Mattie myself, in case Daphne hasn’t reached them, but I’m fresh out of paper. And the ink pen they left me has almost dried up.
Instead, I position the table so it’s directly underneath the opening in the wall, and then I count the stars. I remember the last time I really kept my gaze on them longer than a few seconds—the night before my appeal to Zarek. Malik and I sat under them together. He had said,
Cheer up. It won’t be for long.
And I believed him. But look where that got us.
Cold creeps across the room, slithering through my clothes and stroking my skin. It’s enough to make me tremble. This place dissolves the mind. And the people—it’s no doubt why they’re sick and crying and reaching out for help. Will I be like them in a few months?
Darkness rapidly covers the land, but that’s nothing new. I move to the bed and pull the scratchy wool blanket closer to my chin. Tomorrow I’ll be free. No second thoughts about my choice; I have to live.
Sleep doesn’t come quickly, though. Doesn’t matter how hard I try to relax and keep my eyes closed. Even as I nestle further under the covers, with the icy air licking my exposed skin, I can’t stop thinking about how different things could’ve been.
Then I slip into a place I’ve never seen before. Trees of every shape and color—gold, violet, pink, blue, round, petite, lean, lofty—encase me in a private area. The spicy air is so thick with moisture it’s like cinnamon on my tongue. Lavender and pink petals fall from above. There’s a pond not far away, with softly glowing flowers swimming on top.
Is this Heaven?
I think.
“C’mon, Andy, what are you waiting for?” says Malik. He’s happy and energetic and just the way I remember him before we moved to Valyad. Children dance around him, giggling. Though I don’t recognize the young ones, something in me automatically knows they’re his.
“Where am I?” I ask, taking careful steps over to where he’s at.
“You’re in the Palace of Dreams. I told you about this place once. Do you remember?”
I do. It was the night before I left for Legora. He had written a poem, and it was beautiful. The words had captivated me, even then.
“Yes, but how did we get here? Am I dead?”
“No, I’m afraid not. I brought you.”