Laurell Hamilton - Never After

Except Gisele’s maid. Who ever notices the servants?> She came to me every morning to help me dress and carried messages from me to Gisele and the others. We formulated a hasty and desperate plan, but none of us had any idea if it would work.

We arrived at the palace close to midnight on our third day of travel. I was kept locked inside my own carriage until Gisele had been escorted inside under heavy guard. When I tumbled out the door, I looked around wildly. Dannette and Darius were being ushered inside—by servants, not soldiers, so they were probably safe—and Harwin, still on horseback, was being crowded back toward the courtyard exit.

“Don’t leave me!” I called in a sudden panic.

He pulled on the reins to bring his horse around. “If they make me go, I will be back in the morning!” he shouted.

We had no more time to speak, for footmen were on either side of me, urging me toward the door. The minute I stepped inside, I let all pretense of cooperation fall away. “Take me to my father,” I said in my haughty-princess voice.

The steward, who had overseen this whole debarkation, said smoothly, “Princess, the hour is late, and the king is no doubt sleeping.”

“The king has no doubt been wakened with the news that his queen has been returned,” I said coldly.

“Take. Me. To. Him.”

The steward hesitated a moment, then bowed. “Highness,” he said, and led the way.

My father was indeed awake, wearing a gaudy purple dressing gown, drinking a glass of wine, and conferring with Sir Neville. The minute I stepped into the room, I asked a single bald question. “What are your plans for Gisele?”

He rose to his feet and eyed me with disfavor. I was reminded of the fact that he was a rather small man. Not nearly as tall as Harwin, for instance, and I myself was almost exactly his height. “I see you are back from your trip with your betrothed,” he said. “I trust you have grown well enough acquainted to consent to a hasty wedding.”

“Yes, I feel certain I will want to marry soon,” I said. “What are your plans for Gisele?”

“Why would you care?” he said. “You have never had any interest in her fate before.”

“I am always interested in the affairs of the kingdom, Father,” I said in an edged voice. “The soldiers said she will be tried for treason. I would like to see how such a trial is carried out.”

Sir Neville spoke up in his gruff voice. “Your father will convene three trusted lords to sit in while he reads off evidence of her crimes. If we agree that she has committed the acts she has been charged with, she will be convicted and punished.”

“Traitors are executed,” I said.

My father nodded. “They are. And she will be, if she is found guilty.”

So it was true. Gisele had not lied. He planned to kill her and then marry Sir Neville’s stupid, scheming daughter. It was not a surprise, but somehow the news caught me like a blow.

What good sense I had always shown by hating my father.

“I want to watch the trial,” I said.

My father looked annoyed, but shrugged impatiently. “Fine. We will meet in the morning. Sir Norbert and Sir Milton have agreed to be ready at such short notice.”

“I will bring my betrothed with me,” I said. “And his sister.”

My father flung his hands in the air. “Shall you invite the cooks and the grooms as well?”

“It’ll be like a damned fair,” Neville snorted.

I made a show of hesitating, and then I said in an uncertain tone, “We all traveled with her for the past week, you know. She said some things—they might be useful to you—all of us heard her.”

Now my father’s eyes sharpened. “Did she, the little bitch? Then, yes, you may bring them both, if they are willing to testify.”

I was not feeling civil enough to curtsy, but I did nod my head in acknowledgment. I could only imagine how unkempt my hair looked, how ratty and wrinkled my clothing. But I fancied I still managed to make the nod look stately. “We will join you in the morning.”

Smoky oil lamps and sputtering candelabra provided suitably gloomy lighting in the throne room the next day as we gathered for Gisele’s trial. My father sat on his engraved chair while Norbert, Neville, and Harwin’s father, Sir Milton, settled in more ordinary chairs beside him. Sir Milton was a big man, as brown as his son, and even more serious and less inclined to idle conversation. It was no surprise that he was frowning.

Gisele stood meekly before the four of them, plainly dressed, head bowed, silent; a heavily armed soldier was in place beside her. Darius, Dannette, Harwin, and I had been relegated to uncomfortable benches at a slight angle to the dais. My father hadn’t seemed to notice that I’d augmented my party by one. No one else was present, though two more soldiers watched the door.

It was clear my father wanted to get through this charade as quickly as possible. “Gisele, queen of Kallenore, you have been charged with crimes against the throne,” he rattled off. “If you are found guilty of them, you will be put to death.”

“I would hear the list of my sins, majesty,” Gisele said quietly.

My father consulted a piece of paper. “You stole jewelry cases filled with three diamond necklaces, a complete set of emeralds, a complete set of rubies, and a total of fifteen rings. You also ransacked the royal safe for three bags of gold and a bag of silver. In addition, you took a royal seal with which you could forge my orders. How do you plead?”

I came to my feet. “Guilty,” I said.

My father sent me an irascible look. “You—what? Sit down, Olivia. I’m speaking to the queen.”

“Gisele did not take the jewels and coins,” I said, looking at my feet and mumbling a little. “ I did. I’ve never traveled from the palace without your protection before, and I was afraid. I thought if I had money, I could buy my way out of any trouble.”

The look on my father’s face was indescribable. Norbert said in a fair voice, “Well, she makes a good point. Money will make almost any problem go away.”

Neville peered at me in some uneasiness. “So you’re saying— you took the goods? Not the queen?”

“I swear it.”

Sir Milton was frowning again. “Then that accusation must be struck.”

My father looked ready to burst into flames, he was so angry. “There are other charges,” he bit out. He rustled the paper again. “You sent messages to the envoy from Amlertay and arranged to meet with him to share secrets about Kallenore defenses. You sent similar messages to the envoy from Newmirot.”

Still on my feet, I turned to give Darius a wide, wondering stare. “Darius,” I breathed. “You told me you were talking to those men about trade goods. Not state secrets .”

A very satisfying tumult ensued. Darius leapt up and cried, “We were discussing trade! Nothing more!” while Norbert and Neville and Milton all talked at once, very loudly. It took my father’s roar of “ Silence ! All of you!” before the room subsided into anything like quiet.

“It appears she is not guilty of this crime, either,” Norbert said, his round, red face puffing up with disapproval. “If she has done nothing truly heinous, I do not think—”

“Perhaps this will strike you as a significant enough betrayal,” my father snarled. “While she traveled with my daughter, she took a lover into her bed. Two inn-keepers will testify they saw a second person entering and leaving her room. She sought to bear a bastard to the throne—to make a cuckold of the king and disinherit his true daughter.”

“That’s very bad,” Neville said eagerly.

It was—extremely bad. Harwin had been the one who guessed what the first two charges would be, so we had crafted defenses that might be far-fetched, but difficult to disprove. But it had not occurred to any of us that Gisele would be cited for infidelity, a crime that had sent more than one queen to her death before this.