And, more gently, Theron’s. “I’ll stay down here.”
“As you like,” the Seneschal said, not unkindly. He glared one last burst of venom at Judah and followed Gavin up to the dais.
Somebody came by with a tray of silvery crystal glasses. Elly took one and drained it. “I don’t know what will happen after. Stay with me, Jude? For as long as you can?” She was ghastly pale, almost gray.
“Elban’s talking,” Theron said unexpectedly.
And he was. His voice filled the air, as clear and cold as the crystal in Elly’s hand. “Gathered here, we are, to celebrate the betrothal of my son and heir, Gavin of Highfall. Gathered here, in the eyes of my court and the eyes of my kingdom. As the power of the words I speak tonight extends beyond this room, so do the actions we take here extend beyond our time: into history, into the lives of our children and their children and all who come after.” The ceremonial words rang hollow, almost mocking. Everyone knew Elban had no intention of yielding power. The time he spoke of, the time of their children and their children’s children, existed—to him—deep in an impossible future that he never truly believed would come. “The choosing of a mate to continue the line of our House is of profound consequence. Would that I’d had the counsel of my lost Lady to guide me in this choice, but it was not to be.”
Judah suspected that he would no sooner have consulted Clorin than he would have Darid.
“Upon the Lady of the City rests the trust and well-being of our empire, and upon her rests the trust and well-being of the Lord of the City himself. She will be the mother of our future. As my lost Lady served, comforted and counseled me, so will my heir’s Lady serve, comfort and counsel him. She must be humble and wise, pliant but unbreaking.”
Out of the corner of her eye and above the heads of the crowd, Judah saw a cloud of tiny indigo butterflies move slowly toward the dais. The room held its breath. All of these words weren’t necessary; Elban was dragging this out, enjoying it. The watching courtiers were starving, avid. More than one painted mouth hung open, panting for the drama they expected any minute.
“We stand on the cusp of a great time in our history. Our enemies underestimate our power.” Elban’s eye fell on her. On Judah. “I promise all of you: they will not do so for long.”
Elly’s hand was in Judah’s, damp and cold. Somebody was trembling but Judah didn’t know if it was Elly or herself or Gavin, up on the dais. He was almost as pale as Elly but his face was expressionless, as if he were a portrait of himself. His eyes were focused somewhere above the crowd, so perhaps he did not see the last of the courtiers step aside to allow Amie through. She was very pretty. Her face was innocent and interested.
If Elban broke his word, Judah would run to the tower above Theron’s workshop. They would find her but it would take time. They would not hurt Gavin to find her, Judah thought, and then amended: they would not hurt him too much.
“In this spirit,” Elban said, “I present to you the betrothed of my son, the mother-to-be of his heir, and your future Lady of the City.” His eyes found her again and she glared at him with all of her fury, as if the sheer force of her will could make him obey. His smile seemed all for Judah, as he threw an arm out toward the crowd, jutted his chin toward the massive chandelier, and roared, “Eleanor of Tiernan!”
The gasps from the courtiers hit Judah like a wave of ice water. There was a horrible moment of stillness where cheering and applause should have been; in front of the dais, Amie was a marble statue. Judah heard a brittle snap as some part of the fan the lady courtier held broke. Then she let it drop and dangle on the bracelet that bound it to her wrist, like a bird’s wing that would no longer fly.
Her chin went up. She began to clap.
The silence broke. All of the courtiers around them, poised for drama, finally had it. It wasn’t the dish they’d been expecting, but Judah could tell from the cheering that—with the exception of a few pockets of silence that must have held Amie’s coterie—most of them