“You thought you had anticipated everything, but you hadn’t expected a riot. You didn’t know about the rumors circulating through the throngs of the city to expect treachery at the joust as proof of your treason. Yesterday’s crowd wasn’t watching for entertainment—but for confirmation of that rumor.
“I also know that you were planning to kill me.” She glanced down at Ethelred’s body. “That was actually his idea. He doesn’t care for women. You, on the other hand, just wanted to lock me up again in that hole. That hole that nearly drove me mad.”
“How do you know all this?” Saldur felt real fear. This girl, this child, this peasant’s daughter had slain the Gilarabrywn. She had butchered Ethelred, and now she knew—She knew everything. It was as if… as if she really were…
She smiled.
“Voices came to me. They told me everything.” She paused, seeing the shock on his face. “No, the words were not Novron’s. The truth is worse than that. Your mistake was appointing Amilia, who loved and cared for me. She freed me from my cell and brought me to this room. After so many months in the dark and cold, I was starved for sunlight. I spent hours sitting beside the window.” She turned and looked at the opening in the wall behind her. “I had nothing to live for and had decided to kill myself. The opening was too small, but when I tried to fit through it, I heard the voices. Your office window is right below mine. It’s easier to hear you in the summer, but even with your window closed, I can still make out the words.
“When I first came here, I was only a stupid farm girl, and I didn’t care what was being said. After my family died, I didn’t care about anything. As time went on, I listened and learned. Still there was nothing to care about—no one to live for. Then one day a little mouse whispered a secret in my ear that changed everything. I learned I have a new family, a family that loves me, and no monster will ever take them from me again.”
“You won’t get away with this! You’re just a—a—”
“The word you are searching for is empress.”
That morning Archibald woke feeling miserable, and his spirits only fell as the day progressed. He did not bother going to the cathedral. He could not bear to see Ethelred taking her hand. Instead, he wandered the palace, listening to the sounds of the peasants shouting outside. There was the blast of an army trumpet coming from somewhere in the city. The Southern Army must be arriving.
A pity, he thought.
Even though he would fare poorly at the hands of the mob, should the rioters breach the gate or walls, he still reveled in the knowledge that the regents would suffer more.
He entered the great hall, which was empty except for the servants readying it for the wedding feast. They scurried about like ants, feverishly carrying plates, wiping chairs, and placing candles. A few of the ants bowed and offered the obligatory my lord as he passed. Archibald ignored them.
Reaching another corridor, he found himself walking toward the main stair. Archibald was halfway up the first flight before he realized where he was headed. The empress would not be there, but he was drawn to her room just the same. Modina would be at the altar by now, her room empty. A vacant space never to be filled again now that she was… He refused to think about it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the movement of figures. Turning, he spotted Merrick Marius standing at the end of the corridor, speaking to someone Archibald did not recognize—an old man wrapped in a cloak. When they spotted him, the pair abruptly slipped around a corner. Archibald wondered whom Merrick was speaking with, as he was always up to no good. Just then, a commotion overhead interrupted his thoughts. Hearing a man cry out, he ran for the stairs.
When he reached the fourth floor, he found a guard lying dead. Blood dripped down the marble steps in tiny rivers. Archibald drew his sword and continued to climb. On the fifth floor he discovered two more slain guards.
In the corridor ahead, Luis Guy was fighting another palace guard. Archibald had almost reached them when the sentinel delivered a quick thrust and the guard fell as dead as the others.
“Thank Maribor you’ve arrived!” Saldur’s voice echoed from Modina’s room as Guy entered the chamber. The regent sounded shaken. “We have to kill her. She’s been faking all this time and eavesdropping. She knows everything!”
“But the wedding?” Guy protested.
“Forget the wedding! Ethelred is dead. Kill her and we’ll tell everyone she is still sick. I will rule until we can find a replacement for Ethelred. We will announce that the new emperor married her in a private ceremony.”
“No one will believe that.”
“We don’t have a choice. Now kill her!”
Archibald peered in. Guy stood, sword in hand, with Saldur. Beyond them, near the window, was Modina in her red-stained nightdress. Presumably the blood belonged to Ethelred, who lay dead on the floor. Sunlight glinted off a shard of glass gripped tightly in the empress’s hands.