“I didn’t bring her here to humiliate you. I brought her here to prove to you Heinrich is plotting treason.”
Aristea’s eyes flashed. “This again?”
“He framed Ludwig, and he’s been controlling you with magic! We must stop him before he stages a coup during the Sun Ceremony!”
Aristea’s face softened, and her clenched fists uncurled as she shook her head. She was getting through to her; for a moment, she saw confusion cross Aristea’s expression as she struggled to comprehend. Then her eyes glazed over, and she shook her head.
“Liane, you look flushed. I know the news about Ludwig upsets you, but this sounds like another hallucination.” Aristea reached out to cup her cheek, but Liane knocked her hand away.
“Why won’t you listen? Heinrich is never going to be faithful, and he’s never going to give you an heir because he’s impotent,” Liane said, slinging harsh words she wouldn’t otherwise in hopes it broke whatever hold Heinrich had over her.
It did the opposite, however, and Aristea’s expression was carved from stone. With a sharp inhalation, she said, “I know Heinrich isn’t perfect, but neither am I. If I can’t give him what he wants and needs, it’s worth it to let him find joy in other women,” she said the words as if by rote. Then turning to look at the mistress, their eyes met, and the woman bowed lower, dropping to her knees and trembling like a leaf. “Go. I wish you no harm but leave the palace,” Aristea said, sounding suddenly very tired.
The woman jumped up as if struck by lightning before scuttering out of the room. Liane watched her go, a knot of dread twisting in her stomach.
“Then this is it? You’ll trust his word over mine?” Liane said, her temper getting away from her.
“This isn’t about trusting him more. You’re feverish and not in your right mind…”
Liane shook her head. Aristea was a lost cause, and she couldn’t convince her; she’d have to go to Mother directly. Liane stormed out of the room, without another word to Aristea.
As she ran down the hall, her scar throbbed. Despite her protests to Aristea, she felt a fever brewing, and it made her sluggish, and putting each foot in front of another started to feel like running through mud.But there wasn’t time to waste. Up the stairs and around the corner, she headed for Mother and Father’s personal quarters. When she arrived, she threw open their chamber door, surprising Father, who was being dressed by his servant.
“Where is Mother?” Liane asked, bent over, and panting for breath.
“Liane, you’re flushed. Is something wrong?” Father said, waving away the servant.
She shook her head, but Father grasped onto her shoulders, and she leaned into his grip to keep standing upright. Concern marred his face as he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “You’re burning up with a fever. We need to summon the Vice Premier.”
“It’s nothing, just a little hot out. Now, where is Mother?” Liane bit out. Why did they all treat her as if she were made of glass, as if she might break at the slightest touch? Ever since the accident, they’d treated her this way, and she was sick of it. For once, couldn’t they just listen to her?
“Take a seat. I’ll have my servant bring you some iced wine.”
She couldn’t sit down and sip wine; urgency thrummed through her. If she sat down, she might not have the strength to stand again. It felt as if everything was about to crumble around her.
If Mother wasn’t in their chamber, she must be in the hall hearing the day’s petitions. Ignoring her father’s pleas, she jogged out and passed by her guards, who’d just caught up. And when she ran past groups of courtiers, they pinned themselves against the walls to avoid being bowled over. Whispers followed her. There’d be rumors of her crazed episode for weeks to come, but she’d endure it if she could find Mother and convince her.
A line of petitioners stood outside the double doors of the audience chamber, and Liane passed them up, ignoring their grumbles of protest. Mother sat at the center of the room, beneath vaulted ceilings and frescos of Cyra riding on clouds. Behind her, a painted sun rose, the beams seeming to burst out from her. The Dukes of Parliament, who flanked her on the benches to her left and right, muttered as Liane approached.
“Liane, we’re in the middle of a hearing.” She looked more confused than angry; it was a start, at least.
A man kneeling in front of her mother, clutching his feathered cap, glanced in uncertainty between them.
“This can’t wait,” Liane said breathlessly.
Mother stood, splaying her hands on the table in front of her. “What is so important that it can’t wait?” she asked.
“Heinrich is plotting treason and framed Ludwig for it.”
Audible gasps rippled through the room, as dukes and clerks alike shuffled in their seats. Apart from that, no one spoke as Mother stared at her with cold, hard eyes. No one else dared to look at her directly.
When no one would speak, Liane presented her case.
“I’ve been investigating stardust for years now, and I’ve realized it has properties beyond our comprehension. In most users, it eats away at their bodies, before eventually killing them. In others it makes them stronger, gives them abilities we’ve never seen. And now I know why. It is being provided to Heinrich and the gangs by elves, and he’s using it to build an army of super soldiers, and he’ll use it to stage a coup!” Liane was gasping for breath by the time she was finished.
“That is a serious accusation,” Mother said. At least she wasn’t trying to dismiss her entirely, like Aristea had.
“Then you’ll arrest him?”
