“How far along are you?” he demanded.
“Three moons, your Highness,” Mitera said.
“You are sure?” the King demanded. Many of the slave women rumored to carry his children miscarried.
“That was when you last summoned me, my Lord,” she said, nodding slightly. “I wanted to make sure before I informed you.”
The King tore his eyes from my mother and looked at the rest of us.
“And why are they here?” the King demanded, gesturing to Maalik, Erix, and myself.
“These two defended their mother when Agnes struck her. The boy, Maalik, is Agnes’ get, and he demanded punishment of this one for cutting him when he defended his mother,” Otto said, standing between Maalik and Erix and me.
“He demanded, did he?” the King said, his voice gone deadly cold. “Step forward, boy.”
Maalik shot me a look of triumph as he stepped forward, proud as a peacock in front of the King. He was so ignorant he didn’t realize the danger he was in.
“The witch was spreading her lies again! Mother was just disciplining her. Then he attacked me without cause and cut my throat, Father!” Maalik proclaimed, leaning his head back and pointing at his neck and the tiny smear of blood there. “See?”
Muttering rose amongst the court. The King didn’t officially claim any of us as his children until we became Elusians or established as human. Maalik had made a huge presumption.
The King eyed the small cut and raised one eyebrow skeptically.
“I’ve had worse nicks shaving,” he said sardonically.
The room erupted into titters and Maalik’s face flushed red.
“You two, step forward,” the King demanded. Though we didn’t plan it, Erix and I stood and stepped forward in unison.
“Ah, my little Illyrian half-breeds,” he said. “They’re a well-matched pair, are they not Eurymenye?”
I realized with a start that the Queen was also present. The King’s natural charisma was so strong that it drew all eyes to him, making everyone else seem to fade away, even his Grecian Queen.
“If you like that sort of thing, your Grace,” she said with a small smile. “They do seem a bit… wild.”
She gestured at us widely with her fan and it was my turn to flush again. I knew what we looked like. Our faces and clothes were dirty. We were skinny and wore threadbare clothing that was too small and too short; Our hair wild and untamed because we had traded our last comb for medicine for our mother. The King turned back to us and tapped his finger on his chin, his eyes raking us from head to foot, then sighed.
“So they do,” he said, his eyes raking Erix and I from head to toe. “Still. I don’t suppose we can encourage their behavior,” he said.
“As you say, your grace,” she responded.
The King turned his icy gaze on Agnes.
“Twelve lashes for the slave who dared raise her hand against a bearer of the King’s seed. One for every week of life she put in danger with her actions,” he announced.
Agnes paled and began crying. “Please, your Highness! I did not know! She never said anything!”
The King ignored her pleas and gestured. The guards dragged her away. Her punishment would be meted out at sunrise, as was the punishment of any slave who displeased the King.
“As for you…” the King said, stepping forward. This time it was my chin he took in his strong grip.
I tried to play the humble servant, to keep my eyes down and my face passive, but it was beyond my skill, and I pulled my chin away. I stared at him with all the fury and heat of my hate burning through me.
“Oh ho! This one has some fire to him…” the King said. “Let’s see if a day and night with no food and water doesn’t help quench that temper.”
I saw Maalik grin at me, pleased to see me being punished as he had requested. I saw Erix glance up at me from where he kneeled, relaxing slightly. I had gotten off easy.
“As for you…” the King said, turning back to Maalik. “I think it would be wise for you to spend the next moon as a servant of the Weapons master.” Maalik almost groaned but visibly caught himself. Serving the Weapon master was one of the hardest tasks a slave could be given at the palace. You were up early and worked very late maintaining the weapons and armor of the King’s trainer. You also frequently took the place of the pells for the knights practicing, which meant many a bruise.
