complicated than he expected, and she didn’t care to explain. “I’m Cirang Deathsblade, of the— formerly of the Viragon Sisterhood.”
She expected to feel a prickling sensation on the back of her neck, but she felt nothing. As Tyr, she’d had the ability to sense when a mage was reading her shadow. Apparently, as Cirang she didn’t — yet another inconvenience of living in this female body.
“State your real name, not your epithet.”
Cirang sighed. “Cirana Delusiol.” She’d changed her given name when she joined the Sisterhood because it sounded too girlish to her ear.
The lordover’s eyes darted to the man behind her. He knitted his brow momentarily and flicked his eyes back to her. “What part did you play in the murder of Rogan Kinshield?”
“Pardon, who?”
“King Gavin’s brother.”
Although the original Cirang had been present for the beheading, she hadn’t helped kill him. In fact, she’d tried to reason with Ravenkind to spare the man’s life. Still, she chanced telling Tyr’s tale so as not to be implicated at all. “I wasn’t present, and therefore I didn’t witness the murder.”
When Celónd’s eyes went to the shadow reader, Cirang started to turn in order to see him, curious whether he sensed a lie.
“Ah-ah!” Celónd said. “Face forward and don’t look back. When did you first meet Brodas Ravenkind?”
Because both Tyr and Cirang had known Ravenkind, she thought it best to relate the story of Tyr’s first meeting because it occurred first. “It was seven years ago when I sought a cure for the illness to save my son and the other children of my village.”
“Which village is that?”
Inwardly, she cringed, wishing she could take back her previous answer. If Celónd was going to dig that far into her past, he might find out Cirang had no children, but to name a Nilmarion village would be confusing and suspicious. Instead, she named Cirang’s birthplace of Ivarr Ness and hoped he left it at that.
“I’m not familiar with Ivarr Ness. Where’s it located?”
“It’s a paltry, fetid fishing village on the coast south of Delam. Is that what you wanted to talk about? Where I was born? If that’s so, I’d rather rot in my cell. Gnawing my own arm off would be more interesting.”
“What was that you just did?” Celónd asked.
“Hmm?”
“The accent with which you’d been speaking just vanished. How do you explain that?”
Cirang’s mouth dropped open. It hadn’t occurred to her she’d been using Tyr’s accent and speech habits when answering questions from his perspective, and Cirang’s when answering from hers. She supposed it would be wiser to speak like a swordswoman of Thendylath rather than a carver from Nilmaria. “I’ve been trying to sound more highbrow like your daughter, Daia— oh, sorry. Dashielle, is it?” In the Nilmarion accent, she added, “Am I not doing it properly?”
His face turned redder than his hair. “You’re a contemptible, common-born wench with no understanding of noble society. Keep to what you know.”
“The king’s a commoner,” Cirang said. “Maybe he’d understand me better. Because I’m his prisoner, shouldn’t I be answering his questions and not yours?”
“The king has better things to do than to listen to you prattle. Mind your tongue, or I’ll conclude this hearing now and recommend you be kept in gaol indefinitely. Let’s talk about the kidnappings. You brought Liera Kinshield and her three sons as well as Feanna Kinshield and her three daughters, and two Viragon Sisters against their will to...” He referred back to the paper on his desk. “...be fed to a demon. How do you justify that?”
Cirang was, indeed, guilty of those kidnappings, and all of them would speak against her if she denied it. Well, all but the two Sisters who were slain by Ravenkind’s henchman and fed to the demon. “Brodas Ravenkind had given magical necklaces to the Viragon Sisters under his control. They compelled us to obey him. To remove them was to commit suicide. If he commanded me to do something, I was powerless against him.”
“I understand King Gavin severed the magical tie that held your will captive, yet you still followed Ravenkind. Why?”
Cirang knew she was on unsteady ground here, but when she’d first awoken in this body, she was wearing the necklace that had bound her to him. “I don’t understand it, but I believed the tie to my necklace was somehow still intact. All I can tell you is the compulsion to obey Ravenkind was too strong to resist. Every day, I tried to sever my ties with him and get away.” While