The Beauty of Darkness - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,142
erupted, Lord Gowan’s rising above them all. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, this is not your kingdom, nor is it your decision to make. You are suggesting anarchy. Protocol and Morrighese law dictate that—”
“Until my husband recovers, my daughter assumes the position of king’s regent and will appoint her own cabinet.”
The room snapped silent, every head turning toward the queen on the balcony. She looked at me and nodded, guilt shimmering in her eyes. “Jezelia is now carrying out the king’s judgments. She is a soldier in his army and will be true to his wishes.” She looked pointedly at Lord Gowan. “Does anyone object to this?”
Before he could answer, Andrés called out “Jezelia” and fell to one knee. One by one, the soldiers with him did the same—a vote, a public count and long-ago tradition I had heard of but never witnessed. The soldiers in the north hall did the same, and the rumble of my name rolled through the room. Jezelia. The sister of their fallen comrade. My mother, and those on the balcony around her did the same, repeating the name I had never heard publicly on their lips. Half a dozen lords followed suit.
“It’s decided, then,” my mother said, rising again, and Lord Gowan and the rest of the lords reluctantly nodded. In a matter of minutes, their world had been turned upside down. The upheaval was only beginning.
I stepped forward, their faces blurring in and out of focus, the floor shifting unevenly. “Exposing the traitors is only the beginning of the work ahead of us,” I said. I heard my words, echoing in a strange, remote way, and then the sound of my knife clattering to the floor. “The conclave is not adjourned. You need to know exactly what we’re facing—and what we need to do to survive. We’ll reconvene again tomorrow, but for now, I—”
I wasn’t sure if I finished my last sentence. The last thing I remembered was Rafe’s arm slipping around my waist and my feet lifting from the floor.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
I heard weeping.
Felt the sweep of soft hands across my forehead.
The scent of roses.
Weeping.
The trickle of water.
The whisper of doors opening.
Hushed voices.
A cool wet cloth on my brow.
Numb tugging on my arm.
Will she lose it?
Something sweet on my tongue. Warmth.
I’ll keep the next watch. Go.
A heavy throb in my chest.
Guarded footsteps.
Weeping. Husky and strained.
The slithering of a beast, the flick of its tail.
I’m coming for you. It is not over.
I opened my eyes. The room was dark. My room. A log glowed in the hearth. Heavy drapes were drawn across windows, and I wasn’t sure what time it was or how long I’d been out.
I turned my head. Kaden was slumped in a chair next to me, his feet propped on a stool, his head leaning back like he’d been asleep, but his eyes focused on me now as if the mere opening of my lids had wakened him. My hand was elevated on a pillow, heavy, a numb throb pulsing beneath the fresh bandages. I wore a soft nightgown.
“Dear gods,” I groaned, remembering my last moments in the hall, “please don’t tell me I fainted in front of everyone.”
A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Passed out. There’s a difference. It happens when you lose enough blood to fill a bucket. You’re not immortal, you know? I don’t know how you stayed on your feet as long as you did. If it’s any comfort, I think a few of the lords fainted just watching you carried out of the room.”
Carried. Rafe carried me. I wondered where he was now. I glanced toward the outer chamber.
“He’s taking care of a few things with his soldiers,” Kaden offered, reading my mind.
“Oh,” I said simply. For someone who had traveled thousands of miles with a highly trained squad to help me, he seemed to be keeping his distance from me. Even back at the armory, he had sent someone else to break down our door.
“Who did this?” I asked, lifting my bandaged hand.
“Your mother and aunts and a physician—one called from the village. The court physician is locked up. So are the others.”
I heard the catch in his tone.
Others. And one in particular.
I reached out with my good hand and held his. “How are you doing?” I asked gingerly.
He looked at me, hesitating, the pained expression in his eyes returning. “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Just before I walked into that hall, I thought I was