Midlife Blues - Victoria Danann Page 0,20

time to be served restarting at a year and a day.”

During the course of her trial, the pais’s demeanor had undergone a drastic change from supremely arrogant to worried. She kept looking over at the Sforza gallery as if she expected them to move en masse to save her. From me.

“Do you understand?” I asked. She nodded. “Gote Murelli, instruct your client to speak. Respectfully.”

He leaned over and whispered.

Her response was quiet. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“You and your bureau supervisor will report to me at each of the next seven Court Meets. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

I looked at Max. “Max. Will you notify the bureau of my ruling so that they have time to prepare for the pais’s arrival tomorrow?”

“I will, Your Honor.” Then he added, “With pleasure.”

I nodded. “Now to the second matter. It’s my understanding that there are seven queens in attendance.” I pointed to the high stone walls on either side of the stained-glass windows. “I’ve decided these bare walls might be better used.

“The phoenix genus needs an effective means of defense. For obvious reasons. I understand there’s little you cannot do, including that.” Who doesn’t love flattery?

“So, this is what I propose.

“Every time one of you assists the court with righting a wrong, a plaque will be wrought to your glory by the magic world’s foremost smith, Braden Skeech, and placed upon this wall.” I saw all eyes follow the gesture I made with my right hand toward the wall behind me. “Upon the natural end of my life, the queen with the most plaques will be known as Queen of Queens, loved and revered by all for her magnificent service to the creatures of her race, in all their forms.”

The instant I stopped to take a breath, the room again broke out in discussion, this time in conversational tones rather than whispers, which indicated excitement.

I banged my gavel until it was quiet.

“Who among you will be first to be honored by the Court?”

One by one, each and every queen rose and said, “I will,” Maeve being the last. Alexilia’s mother was one of the first to enter into the contest, which earned her a death glare from the pais.

“Thank you, your highnesses. You’ve done a great honor to your houses by volunteering and I give you my promise that you will have equal opportunities to serve. Please come forward and stand before me.” I could see that they looked uncertain, but after a brief hesitation were beginning to make their way toward the bench.

“Will someone let me borrow a hat for a minute?” I said to the crowd at large. When I saw the guy in the three-foot hat start forward, I stopped him. “No. Not you. Sorry. That’s, um, a very nice hat, but I need something smaller and shaped like a vessel.”

I heard a soft growl from Keir and looked his way. The man being held on the floor was wearing a Medici style cap. Perfect. I grinned at my breathtaking winged lion. “Lochlan, the man being held for my ruling would like to volunteer his cap. Would you fetch it please?”

Lochlan stood, pulled his vest down so that it was straightened to its proper best, and smiled in a way that told me I wasn’t on the wrong track. “Yes, Your Honor.”

While Lochlan was getting the hat, I ripped the first page off the notepad in front of me and tore it into seven, crude, ragged-edge strips. As quickly as possible I numbered each one, from one to seven, then folded them up.

By the time Lochlan returned with the hat, seven fae queens, diverse, but each with the otherworldly beauty of a goddess, stood before me. They were more interested in appraising each other than in wondering what I was doing. I, in turn, wondered if they’d ever been in such close proximity to each other; if they’d ever had the occasion to speak to each other. But that was a question for another day.

I took the hat, turned it upside down, and put the little bits of folded paper inside.

“Lochlan, please submit the hat to each of our volunteers to draw a number and record it to establish an order of rotation.”

Hearing where this was going, the queens became intensely interested in the process. I saw what Max meant when he’d said they were competitive.

I watched the various reactions as lots were drawn and recorded. When the number one was drawn, on the fifth pick, the contestant jumped up and squealed