"I would rather be convicted of a crime I didn't commit than put you in jeopardy."
Oh, finish this, Po, please, thought Bitterblue. I cannot bear how pathetic he is.
And then Po shot Bitterblue the briefest of sardonic expressions. Bitterblue, hardly able to believe it, studied Saf more closely. Surely his humility wasn't an act? Could Saf act in a moment like this?
"He is proud of lying!" Quall said triumphantly.
Bitterblue had given up on identifying the authenticity of anyone's emotions. She only knew that Po seemed genuinely fed up with Quall. Swinging himself over the gate of the hold—not quite as smoothly as he had before—he came to stand before the dais. "What is your problem?" he asked Quall. "Do you doubt the truth of my testimony?"
Quall worked his mouth. "Not at all, Lord Prince."
"Then you acknowledge that he must be innocent; but still, you can't let it go. Why don't you like him? Is it because he's Graced? Or might it be because he's Lienid?"
"He's a funny sort of Lienid," said Quall, with a touch of contempt that suggested some personal disregard.
"To your eyes, perhaps," Po said coolly, "but he would not be wearing those rings or that gold in his ears if the Lienid didn't consider him to be Lienid. Many Lienid look just like him. While your Monsean king was murdering people indiscriminately, our Lienid king was opening his arms to Gracelings seeking freedom. A Lienid is the reason your queen is alive today. Her Lienid mother had a mind stronger than any of the rest of you. Your Monsean king killed my father's Lienid sister. Your own queen is half Lienid!"
Po, Bitterblue thought, beginning to be thoroughly confused. We're getting off course here, don't you think?
"Your Monsean witness is the one who's a criminal liar," Po said, extending his hand toward a broad, handsome man in the first row of the audience.
Po! No one's told you which one is the witness! Bitterblue jumped to her feet so that everyone would have to focus on figuring out whether to rise or remain seated, rather than on Po's strange perceptiveness. Pull yourself together, she snapped at him. "Arrest the witness," she snapped at the guards around Sapphire, "and release the accused from the hold. He's free to go."
"He did break the arm of a member of the Monsean Guard, Lady Queen," Piper reminded her.
"Who was arresting him for a murder he didn't commit!"
"Nonetheless, Lady Queen, I don't believe we can tolerate behavior like that. He also lied to the court."
"I sentence him to the black eye and bloody mouth he already has," Bitterblue said, gazing at Piper squarely. "Unless every one of you objects to that, he's free to go."
Piper cleared his throat. "That's acceptable to me, Lady Queen."
"Very well," Bitterblue said. She turned and, without another glance at Saf or Po or any of the gaping audience, marched to the exit at the back of the dais.
Po, don't let him get away. Bring him somewhere where I can talk to him privately. Bring him to my rooms.
21
WHEN BITTERBLUE BURST into her sitting room, Fox was polishing the royal crown.
"Shall I come back later, Lady Queen?" she asked, with one glance at the queen.
"No. Yes. No," said Bitterblue, a bit wildly. "Where is Helda?"
"Lady Queen?" Helda's voice came from the doorway behind her. "What on earth is the matter?"
"Helda," said Bitterblue, "I did something terrible. Don't let anyone in but Po and whoever he brings, all right? I can't talk to anyone else."
"Of course, Lady Queen," said Helda. "What happened?"
Bitterblue began to pace. She couldn't begin to explain. To get away from the need to do so, she waved her hands hopelessly, then pushed past Helda to the foyer and her bedroom and shut the door. Inside, she commenced pacing again, her sword slamming against her leg every time she turned.
Where is Po? Why must they take so long?
Not certain when or how she'd crossed the room, she found herself bent over her mother's chest, clinging to its edges. The figures carved into its lid blurred with her tears.
Then the door opened and Bitterblue scrambled to her feet, turned, tripped, sat down hard on the trunk. Po came in and shut the door behind him.
"Where is he?" Bitterblue asked.
"In your sitting room," Po said. "I've asked Helda and that girl to step out. Is there any way I can convince you not to do this now? He's had an awful lot thrown at him and no time to absorb