Silent Kingdom (25 page)

My heart pounded as I scrambled to my feet and waited for the torchlight to announce my visitors’ arrival. When the steps stopped outside my door, I had to blink and squint to adjust to the light and make out the forms before me. One was a palace guard I did not recognize, holding a torch aloft. The other was the Captain of the Guard.

The guard opened my cell door and he and Narek entered. I remained at the back of the cell, pressed against the wall, refusing to move. I wanted to punch Narek’s face, to force the smirk from it, but I knew I would be no match for him in a physical fight, so I glowered instead.

“Come,” Narek said. “The king desires to see you.”

An icy feeling coursed through my veins as he and the other man shackled me and led me out of my prison cell. Our boots thudded dully on the slick stone and the torchlight cast eerie shadows along the walls.

I kept my posture straight and tall, walking like a true royal, as my father had always wanted me to. No matter what, I would never let the people who wanted me to break see how much damage they had inflicted.

Narek kept a heavy hand on my right shoulder as he guided me forward. I glanced toward him. “You have been slack with your interrogation responsibilities lately.”

His face remained impassive, but his eyes were sharp. “Your father has not ordered for you to be interrogated. Yet.”

As we wound through the corridors, uneasy thoughts coursed through my mind. Though I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see my imprisoned friends or not, I didn’t hear a sound or see a sign of occupants in any of the cells we passed. Fear scratched my throat, my heart.
No, they can’t be dead. They can’t…

Anger fired through my veins. “How does it feel to have so much innocent blood on your hands?”

Narek clenched his fists, but didn’t deign to answer. Still, that slight response was enough to make me smile in victory. In some small way, I had unsettled him.

We ascended the steps and the guard threw open the door, letting daylight pour into the stairwell and sting my eyes. I squinted against it while the men guided me through the palace, toward the Great Hall.

Guards stationed outside the Great Hall’s double doors swung them wide and we swept in. My throat constricted as I took in the huge space. The marble floors sparkled beneath multiple chandeliers, and the ceilings were covered in dozens of hand painted murals depicting Misrothian history. Against the far wall, the king’s and queen’s thrones of elaborately carved dark wood gleamed in the blinding light. Adorned with the dragon Vehgar, set on a blue backdrop with a scarlet border, Misroth’s flag hung behind the thrones. The right wall was one large window overlooking the palace gardens, full of only a few living plants layered in snow and ice.

Standing in a row before the thrones were the rebels, their wrists shackled and guards flanking each of them on either side. I could scarcely embrace the relief I felt, knowing it would be short-lived.

Narek brought me forward to join the row and face the thrones. The queen’s was unoccupied, but my father lounged in his. His grey eyes were as piercing as I remembered them; his face, if more wrinkled, still held his typical strong, unwavering expression. He raised a shaggy eyebrow at me when I halted next to Jennah, the chains at my wrists clinking together.

“The prisoners, Your Highness,” Narek announced, pressing his fist to his heart and bowing his head.

King Zarev nodded, studying us each thoughtfully. I dared to wrench my eyes from his face and turn toward my companions.

My heart froze as I took in their ragged appearances. Their faces were gaunt, with dark circles under their eyes and pain ravaging their expressions. A jagged, bloody line traced its way from Jennah’s left temple to her chin. Gare’s hands were fists, but he was missing two fingers from his right one. Benor had a bloody bandage wrapped about his head to cover his left eye, and tears in Layk’s shirt revealed burns marring his skin.

Bile tingled along my tongue, but I choked it back, refusing to let the king see my reaction.

My father’s lips, usually set firm and unyielding, twisted into something that almost resembled a smirk. “The motley rebel band, prepared to risk their lives to stand against the king. How bravely you withstand interrogations and refuse to compromise your fellow rebels’ locations.” He scratched his chin, where his black and grey beard shadowed his face.

His stare flicked to me. “And the long-lost princess, returned home at last, as a rebel.”

I could feel the eyes of my companions boring into me. Drawing a deep breath, I clenched my jaw and tightened my fists in order to keep my body from trembling.

“I suppose we can’t hope to glean any information from you, if you have withstood our attempts this long,” Zarev mused. He turned to Narek and waved his hand dismissively. “Schedule a public execution. Make them an example to the people.”

The guards began dragging the rebels from the Great Hall. Narek grasped my arm, pulling me back toward the doors with them, but I continued to stare at my father. “You
monster
,” I growled. “How dare you, how dare—”

Narek backhanded me across the cheek, making black spots dance before my eyes. I stumbled backward, with only the captain to hold me up on my feet.

“Silence,” he hissed, and dragged me from the room.

My cheek smarted and my eyes watered as he led me back through the halls and down into the dungeons. When we arrived at my cell, he removed my chains and shoved me in so roughly I fell onto the stone floor. Pulling myself up, I grunted in pain and glared at him over my shoulder, but he slammed the door. The keys jangled as he locked me in and stormed down the corridor.

The cold, dank space enveloped me once more. Away from the king’s and captain’s prying eyes, I allowed myself to release the tears that burned my throat.

~ ~ ~

More footsteps jerked me from a shallow sleep. A night could have passed, or days, for all I could tell. I shielded my eyes against the torchlight as a guard unlocked my door and swung it open, letting Narek enter.

“The executions are scheduled for tomorrow morning,” he said, without greeting or ceremony. His face was as stony as ever.

I swallowed, trying to fight the rising panic. The silence settled heavily in the small space until he spoke again.

“You should prepare yourself.”

He took a step back, and his movement returned me to reality.

I raised my head and met his stare again. “So it will not be drowning?” My voice was low, full of all the anger that fueled my strength. “Like the way you and my father tried to murder me when I was thirteen?”

Although his face remained a mask, he blinked and hesitated before his eyes narrowed. “No. These days we publicly execute our criminals, but you already know that, since you and your comrades were so eager to stop our executions of late. As the king said, you will be an example to the people.”

I looked away, staring off into the shadows of my cell.

Narek withdrew and his man shut the door with a clang. Without another word, they left, abandoning me to darkness.

The emotions rose up to greet me, my only companions in the blackness. Sadness. Anger. Fear. They pressed in from all sides, and I shut my eyes tightly, as if that could block them out.

Giver of Life, give me words. Don’t let me die without speaking.

If I had to die, I would die for my kingdom.

CHAPTER 16

I
waited for death. It felt surreal, pacing the cell floor, thinking a million thoughts. What would life have been like, if Truth had never come to me? If I had remained ignorant of the king’s crimes all these years? Would I be married through a royal arrangement by now? I shuddered at the thought. Would I have discovered what the king had done…and would I have kept that dark secret to myself without a curse that forced me to speak?

My mind drifted to the new path my life had taken. What if I had stayed in Evren, never to return? Once I’d believed I would live there the rest of my life, nestled in a lonely valley far from the king’s reaches. I found joy in the freedom of wandering the hills alone or with Avrik, unaccompanied by guards and unrestricted by the rules of royal conduct. I had responsibilities, but there was something wholesome about a hard day’s work of cooking, cleaning, or planting. There was the possibility of peace at home and adventure in traveling, because I’d dared to dream of someday helping Avrik trade goods in other cities.

I wondered what it would feel like to die. Would it hurt much? Would the stranger, the Giver, come for me again and lead me to the mysterious world that lay beyond death? My head pounded and my hands grew clammy as I rolled these questions around in my head, inspecting them from every angle.

In the long hours that passed, I prayed and feared. I walked in circles; I paced; I huddled in a corner. I let anger consume me, followed closely by anger’s shadowy cousin: despair.

The people I left behind didn’t even know who I was, and now I would never have the chance to explain. I longed to be able to tell Lyanna and Rev goodbye, to see friends like Bren and Shilam one more time. I ached for the familiar places of Evren that I would never see again.

When the guard finally brought my next meal, he announced it was my last. I rolled the bread between the palms of my hands as I considered this would be the last food I would ever taste. Cringing, I pushed back the fear that tugged at my stomach and forced myself to chew a couple bites until I realized there was no point in choking it down. I wouldn’t need food where I was going.

Exhausted, with no more energy left to feel or think, I huddled against the wall and waited.

~ ~ ~

It seemed like moments later when footsteps stopped outside my cell again. Keys jangled as a guard unlocked my door and swung it open. I squinted as torchlight flooded the tiny space.

“Up, prisoner. It’s time,” a gruff voice announced.

I had no reason to resist. Brushing strands of hair from my face, I stood. Two guards stepped into my cell to grasp my arms, chain my wrists before me again, and lead me out. I frowned at their unfamiliar faces. Where was Narek when I wanted to punch him in the face before I died?

They guided me through the dungeon passageways and up the steps toward the main floor of the palace. When we reached the top, they shoved the door open, and the daylight was almost blinding. My eyes watered as we traced our way through numerous hallways, toward the palace grounds. We passed servants who averted their gazes or stopped and stared, and I wondered if they had any idea who I was. Each time I stared openly at them, studying their features to see if I could find any familiar faces among them, but I knew no one. Whenever they met my searching look, they quickly lowered their heads and my vague hopes disappeared. Had my father hired an entirely new staff in the past four years? My stomach plummeted when I imagined what had happened to the previous servants.

As we drew near the main doors, one of the servants stepped out in front of us to block our path. He hesitated and cleared his throat, forcing the men behind me to stop. “Her Majesty requests to speak with the prisoner.”

The guards’ grip on my arms tightened. “This is highly unusual,” one muttered.

“Do you wish to disobey your queen?”

Grunting, the guards followed the servant’s lead, pushing me through a doorway to the right. I knew the room immediately: one of the dozens of small studies open to anyone in the palace, unlike the king’s large personal library. There before me were the floor-toceiling windows overlooking the sea that gave the illusion one was standing directly over the water, the view that had made me giddy as a child. Near the back of the room, by the windows, was the door that led to further rooms deeper in the palace: sitting rooms, conference rooms, endless rooms and hallways. On my left and right, the walls were covered in shelves, filled with books I’d spent hours browsing through, to my cousin Gillen’s ultimate boredom. Here before me was the old desk I’d hidden under more than once in our games of hide-and-seek. And right beside me was the old statue of Berye, one of the past kings of Misroth, that Gillen and I pretended was a villain with his sword extended to attack us.

As the guards paused, still clutching me tightly, I turned back toward the windows and the silhouette gazing out at the tranquil sea, its waves awash with the pale light of dawn.

I blinked against the light as the servant stepped forward, bowed, and announced, “The prisoner, Your Highness.”

“Leave us alone,” the queen ordered without turning. Her rich blue dress fell in silky folds about her feet, glittering with hundreds of silver stars embroidered into the skirt and bodice. As always, her hair was pulled back in elegant plaits and her head was lifted high. Yet for all her usual poise, the dress appeared to swallow her small form and, almost imperceptibly, her shoulders stooped.

My heart beat heavily in my chest, making the men’s footsteps and the clang of the door dull in my ears. I waited until the queen turned to me and then I forced my legs to move forward. It wasn’t until then that I realized I’d been holding my breath; I exhaled slowly, releasing some of the tension inside.

Once again, the silence was oppressive. The queen’s face was pale and her eyes—dare I believe it?—seemed softer than before. There was a light in them that I remembered from years ago, a light that had sparked in her gaze whenever she looked at me. Was my mother still in there, somewhere?

This time I had to speak.

“How can you stay here?” My voice broke with the tension of a hundred unshed tears tightening my throat. “The king is a tyrant. Do you not believe your own daughter? You have to do something and save the kingdom…save
me
.”

The pain on her face transformed into anger, and then confusion. She searched my expression like she could find answers there, and it seemed that the wrinkles on her face multiplied. She shook her head, slowly at first, then more insistently. “You are wrong. You still spread treacherous rumors.” Tears sparkled in her eyes.

I could have thrown myself at her feet.
How can you believe his lies? Why don’t you see?
I wanted to scream my questions, but I could not cause a scene for fear of the guards overhearing, and I couldn’t anger her for fear of losing all chance of reasoning with her. All I could do was repeat the truth, feeding it to her in small doses. “You are not content,” I insisted. “The king is using his power to oppress our people, and he is publicly executing innocent citizens in the streets. He has begun a war to extend his kingdom and his power, and Gillen is risking his life because of his greed. All of this suffering is unnecessary, wrong! We need to stop this. You can stop him.”

Her arms hung limply at her sides and her face was empty. As she took another step toward me, her brow furrowed and her eyes glistened. I watched her mouth move soundlessly, and she reached her hand out to touch my arm. This time, she would not hold back from me. Would she?

Her hand hung in the air, fingers shaking as indecision overtook her once more.

“Even if you believe the king’s lies—that I hate you and have joined criminals in order to murder you both—remember Gillen’s goodness,” I pleaded. “No one has accused him of betrayal, yet look at the price he is paying. He is serving in a needless war, when he should be here, claiming his throne.”

The queen’s face was pale, her eyes wild with conflicting emotions. “He is fighting to protect us! He is serving his kingdom.”

“Please…” My voice was almost a whimper, and I hated how it sounded in my ears. “I am your daughter. Does that mean nothing to you?”

Her lips trembled. No—her whole body was shaking. “You ask me to choose between my husband and my daughter?”

Anger blazed in my heart. “No,” I said, my voice firm. “Your husband already forced that choice on you when he sentenced me to death! I ask you to choose between his lies and the truth!”

My mother’s eyes widened, flickering with pain and confusion. “Sentence you to death? No, he would not kill you, no matter what you did.” She shook her head as if trying to convince herself. “H-he told me you are being escorted out of the kingdom, to be banished. Exiled as you were before…” She gulped and her voice began to tremble as her confidence wavered. “He would not…lie to me?”

I stared at her. He had been feeding her lies all this time, lies she still believed. How many long years had he used and manipulated her? If I could encourage the doubt I had instilled in her a bit more…

A sound jerked her away and snapped my eyes to the back of the room, to the entrance near the window. With a rustle of robe and a stride that beat out a perfect rhythm on the floorboards, the king appeared.

My heart dropped.
He heard
.

“Halia,” he greeted. A grin spread across his face—a grin that said,
Here you are, at last
. “It has been so long…” He stopped behind the queen and reached with his left hand to grasp her shoulder. “Ryn, my dear, after your support and faith in me all these years, how can you summon this traitor to listen to her counsel? Now she will be late to her own
execution
.”

She turned to him, a protest forming on her lips, but her eyes widened and her body stiffened. A small gasp escaped her lips as blood seeped through the front of her dress, drowning the silver stars in red. The king wrenched his right arm back and I saw the curved dagger he clutched, long and dripping with blood. With a careless toss, he let it clatter to the floor while the queen toppled forward.

Chains clanking around my wrists, I caught her in my arms. Trembling, I kneeled and cradled the woman who had once cradled me. Her body was as light as it looked, a limp form bleeding out onto my clothes. As she stared up into my face I felt tears collecting, blurring my vision until one splashed onto her cheek.

A gurgling sound rose from her throat; her lips could hardly form whatever words she was trying to say. “I…I…” Her voice faded and her mouth moved soundlessly in a message I could not translate.

My breath caught in my lungs and I couldn’t speak. There was nothing I could do but watch the life slip from her eyes. With one final spasm, her mouth ceased fighting to move and her gaze became unfocused, looking through me to somewhere far beyond. I couldn’t rip my eyes from her, even when more tears blinded me, even when the sight made me want to vomit and scream all at once. Her form was pitiful, limp and faded where once she had been beautiful and regal, like a wilted flower abandoned and trampled.

I laid the queen down on the cold floor. The blood pooling beneath her made my stomach churn, but I brushed her eyelids closed and stood, drawing in a deep breath and bracing myself. I felt my fingertips, warm and sticky with my mother’s blood, tremble at my sides, ready to strike. Ready to fight back.

A shadow moved between the white light streaming through the window and the queen’s form. I lifted my face to stare back at the king, the man I’d once longed to make proud, the man I’d wanted to love me.

“It’s a shame to have to kill her; she believed everything I ever told her.” His gaze rested emotionlessly on the queen’s face before settling on me. “But once you are dead, the rumors of your return will spread beyond the palace walls and the entire kingdom will hear of the hapless rebel princess. Do you think perhaps your mother loved you enough to consider defying me, once she realized I’d killed you?”

With a shrug, the king kicked the dagger with the toe of his boot, sending the blade skidding beneath the desk.

I snapped.

Snarling, I lunged like an animal, colliding with him squarely and forcing him off his feet. We toppled to the floor with my knees lodged in his chest. Even with a chain dangling between my wrists, restricting my movements, I still felt stronger than the aged man beneath me. He opened his mouth to choke for air and I pressed my knees in harder.
Let him know what it’s like to suffocate
, a voice inside me prompted. As I gazed into his wide eyes, I imagined that if I only pressed my weight down harder, I could crush his body. I could break him. My fury was so hot and thick I could taste the sweetness of revenge on my tongue, and it was intoxicating.

With one deep gasp, he caught his breath and gained his voice. “Help! Murder!”

Guards threw open the doors and dashed toward me. One of the men wrenched me from the king while two more restrained me.

Others rushed to the king’s side to help him up. He gasped, brushing off his robes and glaring at me. His voice feigned fury. “This wretch has murdered the queen!” he announced to his men, stabbing a finger toward the body. “She stole my dagger and, like the animal she is, she slew my wife. Take this prisoner to her execution, immediately!” He flung the words at me like he could pierce me with them. As if he could destroy me again.

“No!” I screamed with all the rage of betrayal, with all the fear of imminent death, with all the horror and sadness of loss. Tears streamed freely down my face and loose strands of my hair clung to my wet cheeks. “How dare you…how…” My words were lost in sobs while I broke down, my whole body shaking as I collapsed to my knees again.

“She’s a lunatic,” the king said, his eyes turning cold and his voice becoming low and even once more. “Take her away.”

This was not how I was supposed to die. I was supposed to stand up against the king and speak the truth. I was not supposed to let him win. But my mind was consumed with emotion, and all I could do was try to wrench myself free of the guards.