Still Makarria said nothing. She merely sat there, propped up in her bed, staring at them. She couldn’t believe it.
Prisca wiped away the tears on her face and stood from where she’d been sitting off to the side of the bed. “Leave us for a while if you will, ladies.”
“Of course,” Fina and Talitha both agreed, and they shuffled out of the room to wait in the antechamber.
Prisca sat herself on the bed beside Makarria and grabbed her daughter’s hand. Her face was a mixture of sorrow and fury, her eyes red from crying, but her lips pursed into a thin line. “I’m so sorry this happened, darling. Talk to me. This wasn’t your fault. Tell me what you’re feeling.”
Makarria still said nothing. She gripped her mother’s hand, hearing Fina’s words over and over again in her mind. Faster. Louder. Until it grew in a deafening roar. And finally Makarria broke. She wailed like a child and fell into her mother’s arms.
“It’s not fair,” she sobbed over and over again, and all Prisca could do was hold her. Makarria sobbed and cried and shook until she grew dizzy and then slumped back to her pillow.
Prisca’s countenance hardened as she looked upon her distraught daughter. “I’m so sorry, Makarria. This is all my fault for leaving you to bear the burden of ruling. But I’ll take care of everything now. You just rest. I’ll send your father to watch over you, and I’ll take care of everything. I’ll send Caile to the dungeon, then I’ll summon Captain Haviero, Natale, and the rest of your advisors and figure everything out. This is my fault, not yours.”
Her mother’s words stoked something inside Makarria. “No, wait,” she said, pushing herself upright again. “It’s not your fault at all. None of this is.”
“It is, Makarria. You’re wise and strong beyond your years, but you’re still barely a teenager. It’s so easy to forget, but now—with what’s happened to you—I can’t let…I can’t let my little girl get hurt like this.”
Prisca was crying now, and Makarria again leaned into her arms. “It’s not your fault, Mother, not any more than it’s my fault. I don’t know how or why, but Caile did this, not us.” The words sounded foreign on her lips. Caile did this. She knew rationally that it had to be true, but at the same time she knew in her heart that it couldn’t be. It made no sense.
“I just can’t stand it,” Prisca said, shaking her head. “I’ve come to see Caile as almost a son, and now I want to hurt him for hurting you. I want to stow you away where you’ll always be safe.”
“I know. I love you, Mother, and I want your help, but if I give up now—if I let my mother sweep in to protect me—you know how it will look. Valaróz will be lost. The Old World will know I’m too weak to stop them and will invade. There will be nothing you or I or anyone else can do to stop them.”
“But, Makarria,” Prisca started to protest.
“No, I won’t give up. I need your help, but I can face this.”
• • •
With Talitha and Fina at her side, Makarria steeled herself for what she was about to do and strode past the guards into Caile’s chambers unannounced.
“Your Highness,” Lorentz said, standing from where he had been sitting at a small table in the anteroom. “I heard what happened. My deepest apologies. Caile must have been deep into drink last night. He is still bed-ridden and sick, and remembers little.”
“We’ll find out exactly what he remembers,” Makarria said. “Step aside.”
Lorentz opened the door to the bedroom for her, and made to follow the three women inside.
“No,” Makarria told him. “Stay outside. I will speak with him alone.”
“Alone? You have two women with you, one of which threatened to kill him last night. Please, Your Highness, let me be here for him through this. Whatever he might have done, he has been loyal and deserves a friend at his side. I’m sure he’s very sorry for whatever he’s done. Let him say sorry, send the guards outside away, and all will be better again.”
Makarria glared at him, anger welling up in her, but Talitha spared her from having to speak. “Caile has no better friend than Makarria. She’s a more loyal friend than he deserves, in my opinion. If it were not for her compassionate hand, Caile would be dead already, at the hand of any one of us, or worse, her mother.” Talitha placed two fingers firmly on Lorentz’s sternum and pushed him back into the antechamber. “Now go, and wait. No harm will come to Caile, I promise you. Not yet, at least.” She closed the door and nodded for Makarria to proceed.
Caile had awakened at hearing the voices and pushed himself up in his bed to lean heavily into the headboard behind him. His face was pale and dappled with beads of sweat. He could hardly bear to look Makarria in the eyes. “Is it true?”
“Is what true?” Makarria asked, striding over to his bed and standing over him. She had been given no choice in what happened to her; she was not about to let him off so easily. She would hear all of it from his own lips.
“Lorentz told me I was found on top of you. And you were naked.”
Makarria had never seen Caile afraid before. She had never seen him abashed or even humbled. He was a trembling child now, though. Broken like she’d never seen him before. Dark circles surrounded his bloodshot eyes. Pity and sorrow washed over Makarria seeing him like this, but she held onto the anger. Being pathetic didn’t make right what he had done to her.
“Indeed,” she said. “Three of my chambermaids, a kitchen server, and a royal courtier all walked in to find you dismounting me.”
It was as if Makarria had run him through with his own sword. His face constricted in pain and he doubled over, clutching the bed covers up to cover his face. Makarria thought he would vomit, or break down into racking sobs. When he sat up a few seconds later, though, his face was constrained. Only a few tears wetted his eyes. He took a deep breath, as if he’d just been sentenced to death and had accepted the punishment. “I’m so sorry, Makarria. I would never do that to you. I don’t know how I did that to you. I can’t even remember. Did we…did I…”
Caile couldn’t bring himself to say it. Did he bed her? Did he rape her?
“She was still asleep, drunk on wine,” Talitha said. “How could she know what you did to her?”
Caile choked, trying to keep his sobbing at bay.
Makarria looked pointedly at Fina, who reluctantly stepped forward.
“I know matters of the flesh more than most,” Fina said. “I checked over Makarria when I sent you away. She was naked, but I saw no evidence that you had raped her.”
A semblance of relief washed over Caile’s face, but that only made Makarria angrier.
“It matters little whether you did or not, Caile!” she yelled, slamming her fist down into the mattress beside him. “You tried to. There were five witnesses who walked in on it. They’ve been telling everyone we consorted, and now the entire city thinks it’s the truth! Do you understand me? I’m Queen of Valaróz. You are my advisor, not my husband. Do you know what people are saying? My people? The Brotherhood of Five has already demanded a hearing to publicly chastise me. Why would you do this?”
“Wait,” Caile pled. “I still don’t understand why there were witnesses. Why were there people there?”
“Because you sent for them, Caile! Food. Wine. My chambermaids. What were you thinking? That you would have them dress me up for you? That we would have a feast and that I would beg you to take me? Is that it? And then, after all your planning you were too impatient to even wait for them to arrive?”
“I sent for them?” It was barely a whisper, the way Caile asked it. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember. All I remember was saying goodnight to Fina and then coming back here. Lorentz was already asleep, so I poured myself another glass of wine and went to bed…”
“You said you could hold your spirits,” Fina spat.
Caile merely nodded, unable to respond, but Talitha narrowed her eyes. She glanced from Caile to Makarria to Caile again. “How much wine did you have?” she asked, walking up to Caile,
who flinched, but relented when he realized she only wanted to touch his forehead and check his temperature.
Caile squeezed his eyes shut and open again. “I don’t know. One glass in Makarria’s room. Less than that even when I got back here.”
“And both of you are sick,” Talitha said. “Neither of you remember a thing.”
“Vala’s teats,” Fina swore beneath her breath. “I should have seen it. The wine was drugged.”
Talitha nodded in agreement. “Is there any of the wine left from Makarria’s room?”
“No,” Fina answered. “The rest of the bottle was spilled on the bed.”
“What about the other bottle?” Talitha asked. “Where’s the bottle you drank from here in your room, Caile?”
Caile pointed toward a decanter of wine sitting atop his dresser, the stopper lying upturned a few inches away.
“It’s not likely both bottles would be drugged,” Fina said, walking over to the decanter and sniffing at it. “Too complicated. Too many loose ends.”
“You’re probably right,” Talitha agreed. “Still, it might be worth testing it.”
“You think I was drugged?” Caile asked.
“So what if you were?” Makarria snapped, not seeing how this explained anything. “It still doesn’t excuse you for what you did. Drunk—drugged—or whatever the case might have been, it doesn’t give you the right…” Makarria couldn’t even bring herself to say the rest.
“No, you’re right,” Caile agreed. “I don’t know what I can do or say to make up for what I’ve done to you.”
“There’s nothing you can do,” Makarria said. She turned away from him and sat in one of the chairs beside the hearth, once again feeling sick. She closed her eyes and forced herself to push the emotions away. Think, Makarria. How could this happen? Who would drug the two of us? And who could make Caile do what he did if he were drugged? The answer was so obvious she couldn’t believe she hadn’t realized it before. Lorentz! Taera had warned her about him.
“What is it you mean to do, Makarria?” Talitha asked, breaking the silence. “I don’t think it wise for you to leave now. Everyone will think you are running away.”
“I’m not sure yet,” Makarria said, standing and walking over to Caile’s bed again. “Let me talk with Caile alone for a moment, and then I will decide.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Fina asked, eyeing Caile.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Come,” Talitha told Fina, leading the way out of the room. “We’ll be right here in the anteroom if you need us, Makarria.”
When the door closed behind them, Makarria turned to Caile. His face was forlorn, as if he feared she were about to strike him.
“Tell me everything you remember from last night,” she said.
“Makarria—” he began to object, but she silenced him.
“Tell me, Caile!”
He swallowed and nodded tersely before beginning. “After meeting you in the library, I saw you to your room. We ate a little. Drank a glass of wine, and then you were falling asleep. I pulled the covers up over you and left. Fina and I talked for a moment. She teased me about drinking too much wine, I think, but I hadn’t, I swear. I felt dizzy, but I’d only had one glass. I was just tired and wanted to go to bed. Even drugged, there would be no reason for me to go back to your room. Lorentz was already asleep in his room when I passed through to my mine.” Caile furrowed his brow, deep in concentration trying to remember. “I poured myself another glass of wine to drink as I undressed, I think, but it’s very hazy. I don’t think I even got my clothes entirely off. I just fell back onto my bed and laid there.”
“You’re sure Lorentz was asleep when you returned? He didn’t speak to you?”
Caile furrowed his brow and shook his head. “No, I don’t think I spoke to Lorentz. I just sort of remember lying there on my bed, weary, dizzy, and then”—he closed his eyes, trying to recall whatever had happened—“and then waking up, or being half awake, and seeing myself sitting on the bed beside me. It seems like it must have been a dream, but I remember it now, looking into my own face, watching myself getting up from the bed and walking away.”
Caile looked up at Makarria. “I’m sorry. I know that must sound absurd. I had to have dreamt it.”
Makarria pursed her lips and turned away. It did sound absurd and it was not what she was hoping to hear, but her instincts told her that Lorentz was still somehow involved in this. And at this point, it mattered little. She was on the verge of losing the confidence of her people entirely, and if she couldn’t maintain rule of her own kingdom, how could she hope to save the entirety of the Five Kingdoms from the Old World? Talitha was right. Makarria needed to stay here and regain the trust of her people. And with rumors going around the city of Makarria and Caile having an affair, Caile couldn’t stay, not unless she accused him of assaulting her and threw him in the dungeon, and she wasn’t about to do that. That left only one question: after what he had done, did she trust Caile enough to send him to Col Sargoth to attend the election council, or did she banish him to his own kingdom of Pyrthinia?
Makarria turned to face him again. “I can’t begin to understand how or why this happened, but if any part of you cares for and respects me, Caile, answer me honestly. If I tell the Brotherhood of Five what you have done in a public hearing, will you accept the punishment they demand?”
Tears welled up in Caile’s eyes and ran down his cheeks, but his face remained stolid. “If that’s what you think is best, then yes. Absolutely. I will face the punishment I earned.”
“Thank you,” Makarria said.
Caile turned away, unable to look her in the eye. “How soon will the hearing be? I’ll need time to make myself presentable. I’m still a prince of Pyrthinia and will own up to my crimes with dignity and respect.”
“There’s no need for that. You’re not going to be at the hearing.”
“But you just said—”
“I know what I just said,” Makarria interrupted him. “I had to know whether I could trust you at all anymore. I can’t let you stay here in Sol Valaróz, but I trust you enough, I think, to send you to Col Sargoth in my place. It’s up to you now to make sure the right candidate is elected to the Sargothian throne.”
“But what about the western naval fleet?”
“I’ll send a raven, and my admirals will have to do their job on their own. You just make sure you put a king on that throne we can trust. I have to tend to Valaróz now and keep the Old World at bay, so I’m counting on you to make things right in Sargoth. And you’re going to have to do it without Lorentz. I need him here with me.”
“Lorentz? But why? You said you didn’t trust him.”
“I know what I said, Caile. No more questions. You have to trust me. You’ll have Talitha and Siegbjorn with you, and I’ll send an official writ, pronouncing you my emissary. I want you to take Thon with you, too. He’s from Col Sargoth and has shown his loyalty to you—he may prove to be helpful. Can you do this?”
Caile stared at her for a long moment, in no position to question or deny her. “Of course.”
“Good. Say nothing to anyone until you’re on that airship and safely away. Not to Talitha, Siegbjorn, Fina, Lorentz, not anyone. I’ll tell them everything they need to know. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Makarria looked upon him, crushed by the weight of what had happened between them. “You’ll have your speaking stone, so we can speak if need be,” she said, forcing her voice to remain even. “Now dress yourself and gather your things, then fetch Thon. You set sail immediately. The morning is already half gone.” She turned away and made toward the door.
“Wait,” Caile said, urgency in his voice.
Makarria stopped to face him. “Yes?”
“I… I…”
Whatever it was he meant to say, he couldn’t get it out, and she didn’t wait for him to find the words. She walked out, and in the anteroom spoke curtly to the oth
ers. “Talitha, I need you to set sail at once. Take Caile to Col Sargoth in my stead. I ask that you stay there and help him if you can, but if you must return to Issborg, I understand.”
Talitha weighed Makarria’s words for a long moment, then nodded. “The Snjaer Firan have managed on their own for decades without me. They can do without me for another few weeks.”
“Thank you.”
“And me, Your Highness?” Lorentz asked. “I assume you’ll want me keeping an eye on Caile? Our things are already packed. We can be at the airship within the hour.”
“No. Caile goes by himself. You’re staying here with me.” Makarria watched Lorentz carefully as she said this, but she could read nothing in his reaction—his facial expression was muted. “There are enemies in our court,” Makarria continued, “and I’ll need both you and Fina protecting me if I’m going to survive.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
“Good, you’re in charge of securing the throne room. My mother is making arrangements for a hearing with the Brotherhood of Five within the hour. Make sure it is safe. Work with Captain Haviero and handpick only guards you trust. We’ll not have a repeat of what happened in the sitting room. Understood?”
Lorentz nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty. I understand completely.”
10
The Sanctified
A gust of wind howled outside, buffeting the cabin of Siegbjorn’s airship and sending Caile’s stomach lurching. He choked down the bile rising in his throat and wiped the sweat from his brow. The wine he had drank the night before—or perhaps the drug in it, if indeed it had been drugged—had given him the worst hangover of his life. Compounded with the sway of the airship and the knowledge of what he’d done to Makarria, he felt little better than a corpse. He still didn’t understand how he could have forced himself on Makarria. In his heart and mind, he knew he would never dream of doing such a thing. Even drunk, he could never do it. And yet somehow he had. A half-dozen witnesses, including Fina, had seen him there. He felt like he was losing his mind.
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