"No, I do not want tea," he stated as if she'd proposed something ludicrous. Well, obviously. That should teach her for asking. "I might have a lemonade, though."
"I have some excellent lemonade back in my apartments. Please let me invite you." She hoped he would agree because she didn't trust not to get poisoned consuming anything out of his crockery. "Pastries too, delivered from my estate. You wouldn't believe how delicate."
*
They were summoned to the gray hall, which was a large space Raufasger didn't use that often, and following the directions that the page that had delivered, she made her way. This summons had not specified what kind of event they were attending and Ashra had been at a loss what to wear.
Tonight might be a surprise, but Ashra had an ominous feeling. This was out of character and that was typically not a good thing when it came to Raufasger. She reached the hall and there were no festivities organized, no decorations or even any furniture at all. The courtiers milled around the vast hall, their voices echoing uncomfortably in the cavernous space. Raufasger's elevated platform on top of steps at the end of the room. Ashra felt like an ant in this room. It was so large, they all seemed to mill together for comfort and safety.
Something would happen tonight. She could feel it in her bones, and she wasn't alone. There was a nervousness in the crowd. It felt as though the pretense was over. There were none of Raufasger's gimmicks, or expectations in how they would act or dress. In fact, no dress code had been noted in the invitation, and that had been the first time she could recall that being the case.
Tonight wasn't about them, Ashra realized; tonight they would be witnesses. Exactly to what, she didn't know, but Lorcan was still too unwell if Mr. Liesdal could be believed, so this had to be about Amethyst.
Even the thought of seeing the woman made Ashra's skin crawl. Actually, she jumped as the door banged open, echoing through the space. Raufasger appeared and by the look on his face, she knew she was right. There was anger there, but tempered with something else. His expressions were mostly hard to read.
He slowly walked through the room, everyone moving out of his way. "Bring the accused," he stated as he reached his throne and sat down, his voice booming as he flared his robes across the gilded chair.
It was the first time Ashra had heard Amethyst been referred to as 'the accused,' unless he was speaking of someone else. Ashra would be deeply disappointed if Raufasger dragged out some peasant to pass judgment on, in some attempt to make him look harsh and judgmental when he ignored wrongdoings committed in front of his very eyes. Surely, he didn't think that would fool anyone? But then he had a tendency to think everyone thought what he wanted them to think. Sadly, the court tended to comply.
But it wasn't some dirty, starving creature who was dragged in; it was Amethyst, looking regal, dressed in her finest clothes and her head held high. Fat pearls hung from her ears and her hair had ostrich feathers in metallic greens and blues. Her eyes did flash at one moment, betraying the fear she must have felt, perhaps in seeing the whole court assembled. No doubt, she would prefer this to be done in private. Those were the things Amethyst cared about.
The crowd silently parted the way for her to stand in front of Raufasger. A deathly silence had descended on the room, Amethyst’s steps echoing around the hall as she moved.
"The accused," one of the guards said and anger flashed through Amethyst's eyes.
"Amethyst," Raufasger said and Ashra noted the familiar reference. Was this going to be some kind of show?
"My dearest liege," she said, looking hurt and teary, deeply curtsying. "I beseech your mercy in what is the most trying of times. My dear husband committed such a betrayal, I lost all senses. No one can blame me. My heart shattered as it was." A few eyes turned to Ashra, but many didn't want to miss anything of the dramatics unfolding in front of their eyes. "There is only so much betrayal a woman can take. My husband was unfaithful, and then wished to install his begotten whore̵̵̵-child in my very house. How was I supposed to react? Anyone with reason would lose their senses." Amethyst looked tiny in the giant hall.
Raufasger tilted his head, but didn't say anything. For a moment, Ashra wondered if everyone was buying this and she would get away with it. Tears were now flowing down Amethyst’s face and her arms stretched beseechingly.
"I did warn you, Amethyst," Raufasger said, his grating voice bouncing.
Amethyst swallowed visibly and her eyes skipped back and forth, clearly frantically thinking through her options. "You must understand the things I have endured in this marriage. It has been awful. He's an awful man. He hurts me all the time; he's beastly. At some point, one has to fight back. That was what you saw. And my actions weren't fatal, nowhere near close."
Amethyst was gaining confidence now; she strengthened and inflated, and Ashra wanted to scream and rail at her, but she couldn't. They couldn't be buying this fanciful tale. Was she pretending it was just a little nick? The whole knife had been buried inside his chest. No one could do that and not intend to kill.
"But it is not the first time you have tried to murder someone, Amethyst. Hmm?" Raufasger said coldly. The tearful pleas were not swaying him. For once Ashra was grateful for his coldness, because it wasn’t the first time and that was important. She needed to be held to account for Torunn’s death, too. "And the previous time, you were successful."
Ashra couldn’t believe this was happening. He had to be referring to Torunn. He knew and he was using it against her. Hope flared in Ashra's chest that the woman wouldn't escape punishment. For so long, Ashra had resigned herself that Amethyst would not be punished, but it was happening right before her eyes.
Amethyst's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, as if she couldn’t think of what to say. "There is no proof," she stated.
"Are you saying I'm lying?" Raufasger warned. The trap was lain. She was in trouble now. This was usually how things went badly; how Raufasger tied people in knots.
"Of course not. You are not capable of such things, but there are bad people here; people who lie to you, and they seek to harm me. Like her," Amethyst said, turning to sharply point at Ashra. "She's the one doing all this. I never harmed her husband; he killed himself and now she blames it on me. She’s trying to get me out of the way, seeks to replace me, the whore. She's the one doing all this."
Dread flared up Ashra's body. It was ludicrous, but Raufasger wouldn't forgo ludicrous if it suited his purposes, and blaming all this on a Solmnite intruder might suit his purposes well. With speed, her eyes sought him, but he wasn't looking at her; he wasn't buying it. It was the perfect out, but he wasn't taking it.
"No, Amethyst. You have defied me for the last time."
"No," Amethyst wailed. "I've never defied you. I've loved you like a father, better than my own father. You are light itself, the one we all turn to."
"Like a willful and disobedient child. To think you can murder people at my court, under my protection. You have gone too far, Amethyst."
"My liege, my friend," Amethyst said, sinking down on her knees to beg. "I have only tried to right the wrongs that have been done to me. It's only fair."
"I have punished you before, Amethyst. I have warned you before, yet you ignore my edicts. I cannot tolerate such defiance."
"My liege," Amethyst said, tears were again flowing down her cheeks. It seemed Amethyst feared this punishment, which meant she knew it would be more than being sent away to cool her heels at her estate.
"Take her away," Raufasger said to the guards.
"No!" Amethyst yelled and rose to run, but the guards grabbed her. She was dragged out fighting. None of the composure she'd shown arriving was on display now. "I'm innocent. This is unjust. They have turned you against me," she said accusingly to the people present. "This is injustice. She did this, the whore."
The door closed and it felt almost as if a hurricane was shut out with it, leaving the hall in stunned reserve.
"Leave," Raufasger commanded, his voice barely more
than a rumble. Ashra didn't dare look at him unless he took his temper out on her. He could technically see this as her fault, too.
Chapter 6
The court was abuzz, having reached a new level of heightened sensation. Amethyst's 'trial' had been the most explosive development of the whole sorry tale. No one knew what her punishment would be, but there was speculation aplenty. Some thought the trial was punishment enough, her exposure amongst her peers being a brutal consequence, while others thought she had tried Raufasger's patience too far. Exile, some said. Death, the more hardline voices claimed.
Raufasger didn't attend the luncheon put on in one of the morning rooms. It was an event that had been planned before Amethyst's trial, and it served as little more than an opportunity to dissect the all the things worth gossiping about.
Ashra’s absence would only fire the speculation, so she forced herself to attend, but she couldn't settle, instead paced through the hall, acknowledging people with a nod when she had to. They were all discussing her and how she fit into the scheme of things, and she knew it. Amethyst's punishment could affect her profoundly, but she didn't quite know how. Things came out of the blue here, like pieces moved around in a chess game. Their houses all built on shifting sands.
In a way, she didn't want to think about it. All these developments, all the tension, had gotten too much. Some normalcy—as much as could be found in this court—would be appreciated. Now that Lorcan wasn't dead, maybe there was a chance that it could be achieved again. But it was an unrealistic wish. Things would not go back to the way they had been. Too much had passed for that to be.
Unable to eat, Ashra kept pacing. If people commented on it, she didn't care. They could say what they wanted; they did anyway. Likely, they would understand if she wasn't in a chatty mood. The tittle-tattle would continue, but she had reached a plateau of concern. The milk was already spilt; there was nothing she could do about them now, so they could talk their hearts out.
In a sense, it was a relief. There were no more secrets she’d been harboring. Even Torunn’s murder was out and acknowledged. There was a certain freedom to that. Secrets took a heavy toll, she had found.
Mercifully, the luncheon ended and they were released. Ashra retreated to the gardens and found the bench she liked to sit on. The air actually felt a little warmer, or was it the emotional exertion of the last few days? Were her nerves so shot she could no longer concern herself with anything else? What little peace available was heavenly.
Above her, the doors to one of the Lorcan balconies was open and a curtain fluttered in the breeze. Was Lorcan in there convalescing? Or was Amethyst in there worrying about her punishment, or still raging? Ashra could imagine her ripping her apartments to pieces in her rage.
With a sigh, Ashra looked down at her feet and gently moved a pebble around with her shoe. She couldn't shake the feeling that there were still things to come, developments she hadn't foreseen. Had she lost the ability to trust stillness and peace? It felt like the harbinger of bad things. There had to be some price to pay for all this and it hadn't revealed itself yet.
With the weather relatively decent for once, she couldn't bring herself to going back to her apartments and shutting herself inside. She stayed in the garden and time fleeted by.
"Lady Greve," a page said at the edge of the garden, almost as if they were afraid of approaching. Ashra looked up. "All are being summoned."
A summons. This was unplanned as far as she knew and had likely to do with Amethyst's punishment. Nerves twisted Ashra's gut. How Amethyst would act was hard to tell, but she had held nothing back last time she had been seen. Accusations would likely fly Ashra’s way again. All vestiges of the mask Amethyst wore in this society had been lost and revealed the harsh and angry person underneath. Slipped masks rarely fit the same way afterward.
The page waited and Ashra rose. "Where are we gathering?"
"I'll show you," the page said and started walking ahead of her. Normally they simply told her which hall they were meeting in, but not today. They had obviously been told to escort their charges.
Diversion from norm always made Ashra uncomfortable, but maybe they were meeting in a courtyard to see Amethyst off. Exile was the punishment Ashra tended to believe in. It was probably the punishment she was the most comfortable with. It would be devastating for Amethyst, who lived and breathed life at court. It would also keep husband and wife apart. Whether Raufasger would now grant a divorce to Lorcan was something still to be answered. But was it too lenient a punishment for the crimes she had committed? Yes, it probably was. One could definitely say she deserved something a little more harsh.
The page led her through corridors and spaces until they reached a part of the citadel that Ashra had never seen before. A strange corridor with stone walls. The air had an unpleasantness about it. It was hard to pinpoint why. A thin vertical window lit the space and tapestries hung along the wall. It was a corridor like most others in the older parts of the citadel. It seemed this part of the structure had been in place long before Raufasger came into power.
People stood ahead of her, but Ashra couldn't see past them. This was where they were meeting? A corridor. Why were they meeting here? What a strange place for passing a sentence.
Niesen Woord stood in his dark robes, waiting patiently. Ashra hadn't seen him since she'd first arrived. There were others too, others behind him that Ashra hadn't seen before, but they were clearly not part of the court and their clothes were rough and dirty in comparison.
As with the sentencing, the gathered party was quiet, even if barely contained excitement shone through their eyes. Something felt really off about this. Lorcan was nowhere to be seen, which wasn’t perhaps surprising, but it did indicate he was not well enough to attend his wife’s sentencing.
After a while, Raufasger appeared. They could hear him coming before they saw him. He barked some order at a page. Arriving, he stood strong and tall in front of the assembled crowd, looking down his nose at them as if disapproving of what he saw. "For the charge of murder and attempt of the same," he started. Ashra felt goosebumps rise along her skin. Amethyst was being charged with Torunn's murder as well. Both elation and dread raced through Ashra. In a way, she felt justice being served because Torunn's murder was finally being acknowledged, but then this punishment was for one of murder, which meant this would be harsher than many expected. "Bring the prisoner."
Double doors opened down the hall and guards led Amethyst forward. Her hair was not as polished as it typically was, strands of it escaping her formerly neat pinnings. She wore the same gown as her trial, a little worse for wear with creases marring the material. Clearly, she had not been given amenities to change since, which shot discomfort through Ashra. There was also a wildness in Amethyst's eyes, which flashed with rage, and maybe even madness.
"You can't do this to me," she hissed, turning around to pierce them all with her stare. "None of you."
Raufasger nodded to Niesen, who pulled the nearest tapestries aside to reveal a small room behind. Was this a jail cell? There was no door. It appeared to be circular inside, built out of stone, with no window.
"An oubliette," someone in the crowd whispered. "I heard he had them."
Oubliette. Ashra had read about them, but she had never seen one. No, it couldn't be. A place where people were forgotten.
The guards pushed Amethyst inside and the workmen approached with buckets of mortar. They started laying bricks and it took Ashra a moment to understand what she was seeing. They were building a wall across the entrance to the room. The horror of it hit her with a wave of nausea.
"You're all ugly and stupid," Amethyst spat manically. "You're all sheep, bowing down to him while he rams it up your tender, bare asses. Too weak to even stand up for yourselves. But you love me," she said, turning to Raufasger with tears in her eyes. "How could you do this to me?"
Raufasger's expression didn't change, remaining impassive throughout. Ashra doubted it even tugged at h
is heart. Then again, he didn’t appear to be receiving any joy from this, which he sometimes did from his destruction.
"It's them you're supposed to be punishing. Her," Amethyst said, fervently pointing at Ashra. "She's responsible for all this. The whore."
Ashra didn't know what to say. Her mind was still caught up in the horror of Amethyst's punishment, let alone considering that the woman was still trying to implicate her.
"And you all stand by and do nothing," Amethyst screamed. "He rapes your daughters; he kills your sons—steals your land, and you are all too cowardly to do anything about it. You've betrayed me—all of you. You're the ones who deserve to be here, not me."
In a way, in these last moments, Amethyst was more truthful than anyone in this court. It surprised Ashra that the woman had been aware of all these things, had known exactly what was going on, but had loved it here so much nonetheless—until Raufasger had turned on her.
The bricks were up to Amethyst's thighs now. They were going to brick her in and walk away, forget she was there as the namesake of this place they were putting her in. This wasn't right.
Amethyst kept screaming and swearing, calling them every name under the sun. The true extent of her madness was glaringly obvious. This woman had murdered Torunn for turning her down, tried to murder her husband for doing things she didn't wish—claiming a child.
The storm of emotions inside Ashra only built with every brick put in place. Amethyst deserved punishment, but it was heartbreaking to watch this. Would it be easier if she were beheaded, if they stood and watched the blade above her neck? No, probably not, but this was also particularly cruel. This death would not be quick or merciful. It would be drawn out and painful. Well, maybe she would run out of air and simply fall asleep. Ashra hoped so, but didn't know if it was true.
The wall was up to her waist now. It felt like a slow-motion accident, where things were, in reality, happening so quickly no one could react, although they weren't, in reality, happening quickly. Each brick relentlessly made the space of the doorway smaller, and it felt awful.
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