The Beauty of Darkness - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,141

It is—” The Viceregent turned, seeing the eyes fixed on him, his lies closing in, inescapable. He lunged, pulling a knife from beneath the table, and held it to the Timekeeper’s throat, dragging him to his feet and using him as a shield. They both stumbled backward toward the wood panel on the rear wall of the chamber, and the Viceregent’s hand groped behind him. A little to the right, I thought as his fingers fumbled over the carved wood. There. He pressed, and a passage appeared, one known to every king—and the children who spied on him. He shoved the Timekeeper away and disappeared into the passage.

The Chancellor glanced nervously to the side as if to make a break to follow.

“I wouldn’t,” I told him, and only seconds later, the Viceregent reappeared, stepping backward, a sword at his chest. Andrés held it and emerged with more soldiers behind him. His expression was as shattered as Kaden’s.

“You killed my comrades,” Andrés said. “You should have let me die with them.” He lowered the sword and swung his fist, sending his father stumbling toward me.

A line of blood ran from the corner of the Viceregent’s mouth. I kicked the back of his legs, bringing him to his knees, and yanked on his hair so his eyes jerked up to meet mine.

“You killed my brother,” I said, my face drawing close to his. “He and every good man with him were massacred. They had no chance.” There was no mistaking the dangerous strain in my voice and I saw fear flash through his eyes. “They were outnumbered five to one because you sent word ahead. I buried them all, Viceregent. I dug graves until my hands bled while you were here sipping wine and conspiring to kill more.”

I whipped back to face the lords. “This is the man who sent my brother and thirty-two soldiers to their deaths! He is the one who poisoned my father! He is the one who led his rat’s nest of conspirators to plot against us all!” I looked back at him, my knife pressing against his neck. “You’re going to die, Lord Viceregent, for your crimes against Morrighan, and if we don’t get to my brothers and their squads in time, you will die slowly. That is my promise to you.”

He looked at me, his eyes defiant again. He whispered low so no one else would hear, “I have an agreement with the Komizar. I may spare whichever lives I choose.”

I smiled. “An agreement? The Komizar chose his fools well.”

“It’s too late,” he said, still denying the reversal of our fortunes. “You can’t stop us. But I could—”

“You’re right about only one thing, Lord Viceregent. It is too late. For you. I have done exactly what you always feared. I have exposed the wicked.”

I stared at him, my breath seething, and I let go of his head. My blood-soaked bandage left a bright red stain against his white-blond hair. “Lock him up,” I said, and Rafe’s soldiers dragged him away. The room grew hot, my head light.

“Lock them all up,” I ordered, waving at the rest of the cabinet. “And the Citadelle Guard. I’ll parse out later which of them is innocent and fit to serve.”

A lord stood. “You have no authority to order high-level—”

Rafe cut him short. “Princess Lia is ruling Morrighan for the time being. She can order anything she wants.”

A flurry of objections 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