The lawyer softened his address. “Reuben, you do not strike me as a fool. Fools don’t rise to the rank and position you have achieved. When you heard the killers escaped, and the monks were found chained in their place, did it cross your mind that maybe the princess had arranged it?”
“I assumed the killers attacked the monks after the princess left the cell.”
“You did not answer my question,” the lawyer said. “I asked if it crossed your mind.”
Reuben said nothing.
“Did it?”
“Perhaps, but only briefly.”
“Let us turn our attention to more recent events. Were you present during the conversation between Arista and her uncle in his study?”
“Yes, but I was asked to wait outside.”
“To wait just outside the door, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Therefore, could you hear what transpired inside?”
“Yes.”
“Is it true the princess entered the archduke’s office, where he was diligently working at locating the prince, and informed him that Prince Alric was clearly dead and that no search was needed? That he would make a better use of his time”—he paused here and turned to face the nobles—“to begin preparations for her coronation as our queen!”
There was a decidedly unpleasant murmur from the crowd, and a few of the court whispered and nodded to one another.
“I do not remember her using those words.”
“Did she, or did she not, indicate the archduke should stop looking for Alric?”
“Yes.”
“And did she threaten the archduke, insinuating she would soon hold her coronation, and once she was queen, he might find he was no longer the lord chancellor?”
“I believe she did say something to that effect, but she was angry—”
“That will be all, Sergeant-at-arms. That is all I asked. You can step down.” Hilfred began to leave the witness box when the lawyer spoke again. “Oh, I am sorry—just one last thing. Have you ever seen or heard the princess cry over the loss of her father or brother?”
“She is a very private woman.”
“Yes or no?”
Hilfred hesitated. “No, I have not.”
“I am prepared to call the cell warden to corroborate the testimony of Hilfred if the court feels his account of the events is not truthful,” the lawyer told the magistrates.
They conferred in whispers, and then the chief magistrate replied, “That will not be necessary. The word of the sergeant-at-arms is recognized as honorable and we will not question it here. You may proceed.”
“I am sure you are as perplexed as I was,” the lawyer said, addressing the bleachers in a sympathetic voice. “Many of you know her. How could this sweet girl attack her own father and brother? Was it just to gain a throne? It is not like her, is it? I ask you to bear with me. The reason should become quite clear in a moment. The court calls Bishop Saldur to testify.”
Eyes from the gallery swept the room, looking for the cleric, as the old man slowly stood up from his seat and approached the witness box.
“Your Grace, you have been in this castle on many occasions. You know the royal family extremely well. Can you shed some light on Her Highness’s motivations?”
“Gentlemen,” Bishop Saldur spoke to the court and judges in his familiar warm and humble tone, “I have watched over the royal family for years and this recent tragedy is heartbreaking and dreadful. The accusation the archduke brings against the princess is painful to my ears, for I feel almost like a grandfather to the poor girl. However, I cannot hide the truth, which is … she is dangerous.”
This brought a round of whispers between the spectators.
“I can assure each of you she is no longer the sweet innocent child whom I used to hold in my arms. I have seen her, spoken to her, watched her in her grief—or rather, the lack of grief—for her father and brother. I can tell you truly, her lust for knowledge and power has caused her to fall into the arms of evil.” The bishop paused, dropping his head into his hands and shaking it. He looked up with a remorse-filled face and said, “It’s the result of what happens when a woman is educated and, in Arista’s case, introduced to the wicked powers of black magic.”
A collective gasp issued from the crowd.
“Against my advice, King Amrath allowed her to attend the university, where she studied sorcery. She opened herself up to the forces of darkness, and it created in her a craving for power. Education planted an evil seed in her, and it flowered into the horrible deaths of her father and her brother. She is no longer a princess of the realm but a witch. This is evident by the fact she hasn’t wept for her father. You see, as a learned bishop of the church, I know—witches cannot cry.”
The crowd gasped again. Braga heard a man say, “I knew it!” from somewhere in the gallery.