Instead of artlessness, for Cornelia, there was a sophistication.
Though, Domitia’s had an air of innocence.
Neither of them wore the harsh paint of Airenzian upperclass women.
Though they were painted, just far more subtly.
As, he saw, was his warrior.
And yes.
His future wife was most clever.
Jazz and Hera followed, as did Hera’s lover, Rosehana.
They wore their Nadirii tunics, battle-ready.
Also battle-ready were Mac, Ian, Rus, Tone and Nero.
“Mac, you’ll be on the dais on Cass’s left side. I will be on his right. Jazz and Hera will be beside and behind me,” she went on to command. “Nero guarding Gallienus. Ian and Antonius, I want you behind the settee where Domitia and Cornelia will sit. Rose and Severus will be at the back, keeping an eye from there. I will also ask you both to patrol but not appear as if you’re patrolling. Just keep your eye on things.”
She (and Domitia) had come to stand beside Cassius.
“What are you wearing?” he asked.
She tipped her head to look up at him.
“A gown,” she answered.
“Why are you not in your Nadirii gear?” he inquired.
“Because I am the future queen of this realm and the people of this realm need to look upon me as conventional and approachable, something they will not consider me if I have a sword at my back, a dagger at my belt, and my quiver at the ready. If I appear like that, I will seem to be hostile, which I am not. Except to your father.” She pressed her arse back a bit as she lifted a filmy layer of her skirts out to the side, gazing down at it, and finished, “And I quite like this gown.”
He quite liked it too.
Quite.
Even so…
“Elena,” he called.
She righted herself and again gave him her gaze.
“I think, my princess, you should be you,” he advised.
“I am me,” she returned. “Just wearing a gown.”
“Elena—”
“There has been much change expected of all citizens of Airen since your return, Cassius. And many may think this is because of me. Therefore, it would be wise if they see a change in me as well. They need to understand the balance we will have, something they too will enjoy.”
He could say no more for she was not wrong.
His attention turned to Domitia, who was still standing at Elena’s side, holding her hand.
“You are ready for this, Domitia?” he asked quietly.
She started when her name was said, and she looked at him.
She then nodded unconvincingly.
“I will ask you to say your words and then Ian will escort you from the room.” He included Cornelia in his gaze. “The both of you.”
“I-I can stay,” Domitia said, casting a quick glance to Elena.
Elena nodded encouragingly.
“That would be most brave,” Cassius told her gently. “However, I wish you to know you don’t have to if you don’t wish. Ian will be ready to escort you out.”
“I will stay,” Domitia replied, struggling to lift her chin and square her shoulders.
But in the end, she did it.
“I will wait to see him sentenced,” Cornelia stated.
The fact she spoke at all caused Cassius some surprise, for he had never known any of his father’s wives to be communicative, outside Horatia speaking for them all when the occasion arose, and thus he regarded Cornelia a moment before he looked to Elena.
She gave him a slight nod.
He again turned to Cornelia. “I am sorry you must endure this, for I am certain this will be difficult for you.”
“This will be the easiest thing I’ll have endured in my marriage,” she replied.
He hated to hear it, but he had little doubt.
He had not protected these women. He had lived amongst them and been so deep in his own grief, wallowing in self-pity, he had done naught to help them.
“I am sorry that I did not—” he began, his eyes moving between them both.
“He hates you,” Cornelia declared.
Cassius fell silent at hearing words said out loud he knew to the depths of his soul.
“When Trajan was alive, and he had an heir, he would have used any excuse to be done with you,” she informed him. “It is not kind, but it is true, that your grief for your wife saved you. He thought you weak, the love you had for her. And he despised that weakness. He wished you, and her, cast out. Connived to find some way to make that so. When she was gone and you became alternately detached and combative, only then was he able to stomach you, for these were traits for which he held some respect.”
This did not surprise him, the things he liked least about himself, his father liked the most.
“But even if you knew what befell us,” Cornelia continued, “you could not have come to our aid. If you had tried, the way he feels about you, it would have been worse for you.”
Elena moved closer to him as Cassius remained quiet and listened to her words.
“When he had power, he was a danger to us all,” she concluded.
“Even so, I still wish there was some way that I—”
He did not finish that either.
Cornelia talked over him.
“I do as well, but you are doing it now. And that is all.”
That was definitely all, for as he could glean from her expression, she intended to speak no more of it.
At that point, he noted Mac on the move, and Cassius looked to the door.
A soldier stood there.
“I would wish to return to my mother after this,” Cornelia declared, and regained Cassius’s attention.
He nodded. “I will settle a sum on you and—”
“No,” she interrupted him. “I will have nothing from this house. I have already sent her a letter, and she has replied. It is arranged. When this is done, we move to Wodell. I have an uncle there who will take us in. As I am finally free to leave, I will leave immediately. And I will not live in this land again. I will not even speak its name.”
The vigorous way she shared this, the bitterness surfacing in her eyes, he did not doubt she would see this assertion true.
“This is understandable,” he murmured.
She turned her eyes away.
Mac approached.
“Your father’s carriage draws near. They say he is fifteen minutes away. We should bring in the courtiers, laymen and the gentry.”
“They have all been searched for weapons?” Cassius asked.
Mac nodded. “Thoroughly.”
“Right, everyone to their place,” Elena ordered. “Nero, can you wait outside the door and escort Gallienus to the box?”
Nero nodded.
Elena guided Domitia to a settee, Cornelia followed, and then she bent at the waist and stood with them, talking to them quietly.
This was where she was when the first courtiers entered the room.
Cass was on a throne that was new in two ways.
From there, he alternated between watching them enter and watching his princess.
Thus, he saw her take up Domitia’s hand in both of hers, shake it firmly, and he also watched her touch an immobile Cornelia’s shoulder, but at least the woman did not withdraw.
Elena then made her slow way to the podium, the better to see her gown at work, wafting about her hips and legs and shoulders, as she ascended the dais and took her place at his back, right side.
“I would have you in a chair beside me,” he muttered.
“I would have this better vantage,” she muttered in return.
And there was his warrior.
He chuckled.
And then he got down to the business of what he needed to do that day, something he knew his men were doing as Cassius, not their Princess Regent, had ordered.
That was observing every person who entered the room, the language of their bodies, the expressions on the
ir faces, the cast of their glance, on him, on Elena, on her lieutenants, and to each other.
It was a room filled with enemies, and a hand gesture or a quickly averted gaze could mean everything.
He very much liked the space as Elena had altered it. It had majesty. It was true to Airen, but a different Airen. One of color, one that had life.
But this change about them meant most who entered were so intent on taking it in, they gave nothing away.
They were not offered seats, thus they milled about and found spaces to stand, but a line of the Citadel guard kept an aisle open at the side so his father could come in and get direct to his box by walking along the wall, thus not get near his wives when he did.
Something else Elena undoubtedly maneuvered.
He noted Lahn and Circe, Finnie and Frey arriving. After the men led Circe and Finnie to the settee opposite where Domitia and Cornelia sat, Lahn stood behind them while Frey moved to stand at the far side of the dais, where the recorder’s desk was stationed and where he could see the full room.
And it was then, Lahn and Frey (and it must be said, mostly Lahn) took the bulk of the attention of the males in the room (and the females, but for a different reason).
As they waited, Cassius lounged in his chair and noted that the most reaction in general was from the few women in the assembly, women who seemed taken with studying Elena and her gown.
The men gave very little away, except in some cases, they did not hide their antagonism toward Cass.
It seemed to take too long before a herald stood in black regalia (Elena clearly had not had time to affect a change in the Citadel uniform), and he called, “King Gallienus arrives!”
And with that, his father walked in between two Bailey guards, as well as Reginald of the Bailey trailing him, Nero leading.
There was a hush before a rush of murmurings from the gathering as he strode in, thin, ill-kempt, straggly, his clothing clean and fine, but hanging on him.
Elena, it seemed, was not the only one with the skill to create import out of appearances.
“This is a disgrace!” he shouted, being led across the back wall. “A bloody farce!”
Although ill-kempt and straggly, his voice was strong and carried far.
Cassius cast his gaze down to Domitia and Cornelia.
Cornelia could easily be mistaken for a statue.
Domitia was visibly fretting.
“What has become of my throne room? This is obscene!” Gallienus yelled.
Cassius sighed.
Gallienus was led up to his box and immediately reached to the pennant hanging beside it, his mouth opened, Cass was certain, to continue to bellow his kingly lament.
“If you tear that banner down,” Cassius said in a voice that carried. “I’ll hang you with it.”
Gallienus turned stiltedly toward his son.
“Now sit. For your wives, this will be done quickly,” Cassius ordered.
“I want it on the record, I do not recognize this tribunal,” Gallienus announced.
“And I’ll go on the record to assert I do not care,” Cassius returned. “Now be quiet until you’re asked to speak.”
“I am king. I will—”
“You are a flailing, useless old man who did not recognize that time had come for change. Who bowed to tradition instead of worked for progress. Who was so weak, he could not secure his own realm, even from his own citizens, and continued to allow them to hold power over him. And who, if you did not show some sense in relinquishing your authority, would have led this realm to ruin as the other lands united as military and economic allies,” Cassius declared. “Now, be silent and demonstrate a little dignity during your final public appearance, for the gods’ sakes.”
Gallienus glared at him.
Cassius dismissed his father and turned to the recorder.
“Read the charges, if you will,” he bid.
The charges were read.
“Preposterous!” Gallienus shouted.
The new law was read.
“Ludicrous!” Gallienus yelled.
Cassius had never really paid much mind to his father.
His casual cruelties, yes.
His flagrant sadism, yes.
His childish tantrums.
Alas, no.
He noted them now, but he did so nonverbally.
Verbally, he commenced proceedings as they had planned.
Hadrian shared shortly and without detail what he had witnessed in the king’s bedchamber. Antonius did the same.
And when asked, Domitia declared that this was so.
And when asked, both women attested in brief to the physical and sexual abuse that had occurred throughout their marriages.
That done swiftly, Cassius turned to his father.
“It was not law before, but your violation of her Honorable Domitia was an offense after. Do you deny this version of events as presented here today?” he asked.
“It is not a crime to handle my wife as I see fit,” Gallienus sniffed.
“This is incorrect. As the law was read, it is a crime now. So with your words, for the record, you do not deny this version of events as presented here today,” Cassius repeated on a sigh.
“Of course I don’t,” Gallienus snapped.
“So be it,” Cassius said. “I therefore find you guilty of one charge of assault and battery of a person and one charge of sexual violation of a person. Thus, you are hereby sentenced to ten years as an issue four prisoner in Slán Bailey for the first charge. This you will serve after you serve the sentence of fifteen years as an issue five prisoner for the charge of sexual violation of a person. This sentence will begin immediately. And with that, this tribunal has ended.”
There were more murmurings about the room, but Cassius ignored them.
And even as he straightened from his throne, he nodded to Reginald and his prison guard that stood with Nero at the foot of the box, an indication to take Gallienus away.
“I’ll be in that Bailey maybe a week,” his father asserted.
He would be there for twenty-five years, if he lived that long.
But Cass did not share that.
He noted his father saying “a week.”
So, his father’s allies intended to move in some manner in that week.
That did not matter for the now.
For the now, at least, this was over.
For Horatia. For Cornelia. For Domitia. For Aelia.
And for himself.
He turned and reached his hand to Elena.
She took it.
“Enjoy this frippery!” Gallienus shouted. “I will have it all torn down and it will burn while your Nadirii watches your head leave your body as you kneel on the gallows and the blade falls. This before she is enjoyed by every lord of this realm.”
His body tightened, but her hand squeezed his and his gaze caught hers.
When it did, his grip relaxed.
“Felix has called first go!” Gallienus bellowed, sounding like he was hollering at the same time struggling.
“Ignore it,” Elena whispered.
Ignore that?
Not on her life.
He turned to a Citadel guard. “Arrest Lord Felix Edgar of the Gairn Plain on suspicion of treason and making a threat against the person of the Princess Regent.”
“Do not!” Edgar shouted. “For you cannot! You have no evidence of this!”
“You were accused in my own throne room,” Cassius told him then looked to the back toward where his father was being led out. “Would you like to carry on? It would be most helpful.”
“To hell with you, Cassius Laird!” his father called from where he was nearly out the door. “I disown you!”
“Thank the gods, I am finally fatherless,” Cassius said loudly, and heard a few manly chuckles and nervous feminine twitters.
“Cass,” Elena said, standing steadfast and not allowing him to guide her to the end of the dais.
“Let us go,” he murmured.<
br />
“Cass!” she said his name more urgently.
He looked to her.
Then he aimed his attention where hers was and saw a Nadirii fighting to get through the crowd.
Elena had a number of Nadirii warriors with her.
This one he did not recognize.
In the end, it was his princess who led him from the dais in order to meet her Nadirii sister.
Jasmine and Hera stayed at her back, his men at their posts, which meant Mac was at his.
“What is it, Peg?” she asked when they made the Nadirii who Cassius noted looked travel worn.
“I…” the woman began, glanced at Cassius, then at Elena, “Well, my sister, I am here for your return message to our queen should your bird not make it.”
“My return message about what?” Elena asked, her voice reedy, her regard fixed on the female warrior. “I have not had a bird from mother in some time.”
The Nadirii appeared surprised.
Then concerned.
“We made Kilcree Break. We…” she trailed off to look about her before she said, “We should have privacy.”
Gods damn it.
Cassius communicated with his gaze to a variety of people before he started to lead his princess from the room.
“I demand to be released, Prince Cassius,” a male voice called angrily.
Cassius halted abruptly and looked to Lord Felix. “When your militia surrenders themselves to my army, and you, and they kneel allegiance to me and my regency, that will happen. Before then, you will enjoy the views from the Bailey.”
And with that, he pulled Ellie out of the room.
They were in the sitting room with the red cushions.
And Cassius had long since decided Elena was right.
Those cushions were a nice shock of color.
“Am I the only one who thinks they should have at it and leave a trail of blood and piles of bodies in their wake?” Mac asked the room at large.
“No,” Jazz replied.
“Yes,” Ian clipped.
Cassius sat in an armchair, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Elena sat on the arm of his chair, and it was unfortunate her arse in that gown was that close and he could not enjoy it by pulling it into his lap.
“This was not a good bird to go astray,” Hera murmured.
The Dawn of the End (The Rising Book 3) Page 36