‘We have the letters, Siegfried.’ I take the package from Aron and hold them up. ‘The letters that you and my father wrote to each to other, planning the king’s murder. And who, not knowing the relationship between you, would have suspected the queen of poisoning her own husband? You and she and my father are the guilty ones. Lord Rookwood found one of my father’s notebooks and brought it to me, that’s all.’ I glare at the court, daring them to disbelieve me. ‘He is innocent.’
‘Ridiculous.’ Siegfried laughs again, but his voice is strained. ‘You expect us to swallow this elaborate confection of fantasy?’
‘I expect Convocation to examine these letters. I call upon them to assemble, as is my right as a Protector. And then I will give evidence. I will tell them how the king planned the murder of my mother, and how her death led my father to seek revenge. About the potions my father concocted and shared with you. About your plans, once you were king, to dispose of Odette and marry me, in order to gain control of Atratys and the Crown Estates as well as Olorys. I’ll tell them about the king’s assassin, the hawk, whose body lies in a cellar beneath this very Citadel –’
‘And I will tell them,’ Odette’s voice is stronger now, ‘how you have imprisoned me since the death of my father, and how you threatened the life of my brother when I told you I would no longer marry you.’
A babble of confused noise – shouted questions, arguing – erupts from the main balcony, distracting me, but my attention is drawn back to the royal box by a gasp of pain. Siegfried is gripping the top of Odette’s hair with one hand. In the other he holds a knife, the edge of its blade against Odette’s neck.
‘Aron –’
Silence descends as the rest of the audience realises what is happening.
‘Take your hands off my sister, you coward.’ Aron has drawn his sword, though he must know we’re too far away to do anything. ‘Come down here and fight me.’
But it is the queen who answers. ‘I think not, Your Highness.’ Now her initial fury has passed, her expression is calm, her voice oddly amused, and I see for the first time the resemblance between her and Siegfried. ‘Lower your blade and stay where you are, unless you want to lose another member of your family.’ Aron swears, but obeys. A trickle of blood runs down Odette’s neck onto the white fabric of her dress.
One of the Dark Guards at the edge of the royal box inches forward, but the queen turns on him, pulling a dagger from her belt. ‘Get out, all of you, or the princess dies.’ The guards back away and the queen locks the gate between the royal box and the main balcony.
Siegfried sneers at me. ‘Are you pleased with yourself, Aderyn? You, and that one-armed whelp standing next to you? Enjoy your victory and Rookwood’s caresses while you can.’ As he forces Odette backwards towards the door in the side of the balcony, the one that leads directly to the royal apartments, the queen faces the court.
‘The crown will be ours. Stand against us if you wish, but the whole of Solanum will pay the price. I promise you: this is far from over.’
‘Let my sister go.’ Aron’s voice is hoarse.
The queen laughs. ‘Kill her, brother.’
I can just hear Odette’s whimper: ‘Please, Siegfried, no …’
Siegfried’s mouth twists into a snarl –
He shoves Odette away from him and onto the ground, at the same moment as Turik launches himself forward. The queen, with a shriek of rage, strikes her brother – her diamond ring leaving a bloody gash across Siegfried’s face – raises her own knife, her arm outstretched, and plunges the blade downwards towards Odette –
Turik grabs the queen’s arm. For a moment he holds on, screaming as her skin burns him, but Siegfried hauls him off and the queen thrusts her dagger into his chest. Siegfried drags his sister away, through the door to the royal apartments. Slams it shut behind him as the Dark Guards begin to break down the gate.
‘After them, now!’ Aron yells at the guards nearest us. After an instant’s frozen confusion, they begin charging towards the castle.
And finally, finally, I can think about Lucien. ‘Release Lord Rookwood, instantly.’ As one guard hurries forward with a set of keys, I demand the cloak of another. ‘Help me with him.’ Lucien moans as I cover his lacerated back with the cloak. When all four shackles are undone, the guards support Lucien so he doesn’t collapse and lower him slowly onto the grass. I pull the cloak around him, covering him, and rest his head in my lap.
‘Lucien? Can you hear me?’
His eyelids flutter open, his cracked lips move, but no sound comes out.
‘Water!’ I snap at the guard who gave me the cloak. He runs off, returning a few minutes later with an iron cup. I raise Lucien’s head a little and help him drink.
‘Aderyn …’
My shoulders slump and I stroke his hair back from his face. ‘You’re safe now.’
‘You saved me.’ His voice is barely a whisper.
‘I told you I would.’
He smiles. ‘So you did … And now we can go home to Atratys, together.’
I don’t respond.
Wincing, Lucien lifts his fingers to my cheek. ‘Why are you crying, my love?’
‘Because –’ But I can’t tell him that I’m married. Not yet. Instead, I bend my head and kiss him. ‘I’m crying because I’m happy. I’m happy that you’re still alive, and Siegfried is gone.’ I smile through my tears, because both those things are true.
‘Your Grace …’
I glance up. There’s a doctor waiting nearby, and servants with a litter. I nod, and the servants – wearing heavy gauntlets, just like the Dark Guards – lower the litter and lift Lucien carefully onto it. I get to my feet. ‘We’ll take good care of him,’ the doctor assures me, watching me anxiously.
‘Of course. I expect to be regularly informed of Lord Rookwood’s progress.’
The doctor nods and leads the servants back into the castle. And I wonder whether I will ever kiss Lucien again.
The Dark Guards nearby are watching me. ‘Get back to your duties. And someone –’ I point at the tub of writhing borer worms, feeling my mouth twist in disgust – ‘destroy those creatures.’
Seven hours have passed. Or it might be eight; exhaustion is clouding every faculty. But somehow – probably due to the uncertainty poised like a blade beneath my ribs – I am still awake. And properly dressed. I sat for a while with Letya, and after speaking to the doctors about her neck I’ve dispatched one of the pages to Merl to get the recipe for a cream we use there on burns. Whatever else my father may have been, he was an excellent chemist.
Meanwhile, Convocation has gathered and has begun examining the letters I handed over. They questioned me for nearly three hours. Based on my description of the room, someone has been sent to look for the body of the dead hawk assassin. Others have been given the job of searching the queen’s apartment and Siegfried’s rooms for further evidence; the murderers themselves took flight before the guards could catch them. Their clothes were found by an open window, but that was all.
Turik is dead.
Messengers have been dispatched to Brithys, Fenian and Lancorphys, summoning their Protectors to the Citadel; the Protectors as well as Convocation are required to consider the question of the succession, and to decide what steps should be taken against Olorys.