He’d pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eye. “Hope built on a string of lies.”
“But hope, nonetheless. Kai and human, we have that in common—the need to believe in something better. It gives us fortitude.”
His hands had been warm on her back when he drew her close and bent to press his forehead to hers. “You ease my soul, wife.”
She leaned in to give him a soft kiss. “And you make me brave, husband.”
While she’d declined his offer to come with her for a finalconversation with Ineni, she still wished he were here now. His steady presence always strengthened her spine, especially in the hardest moments.
Ineni lost her defiance at the news of Cephren’s request. Her voice softened to a thin wobble. “He’s here? In Saggara?”
Ildiko nodded, a trickle of pity cooling her temper. Pity for Ineni, but especially for Cephren. “He arrived yesterday, seeking an audience with the herceges. He wishes to face his daughter’s murderer and witness the execution.”
The other woman closed her eyes for a moment. “Why didn’t the herceges grant his request?”
Even if the spell to mimic Ildiko hadn’t worn off, Brishen would have discovered the deception in short order. Despite her previous careful observations, Ineni knew next to nothing about him. Ildiko waited until she opened her eyes once more before answering. “Because he doesn’t believe cruelty should be part of punishment. Yours will be brief. Your father’s punishment will last a lifetime.”
A bitter smile curved Ineni’s mouth. “You’re right. You didn’t come to gloat but to bury the knife.”
Her words struck hard. Ildiko’s entire face heated with the hot blood of shame. She’d counseled Brishen not to succumbto his fury, yet she’d done that very thing, pouring venom into sanctimony disguised as righteousness. “Not originally,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t have said that, though I would be lying if I said I didn’t hope it hurt.”
Ineni regarded her silently, a slight tilt to her head as if puzzling out a conundrum. “I still believe the herceges should set you aside and take a Kai consort. I’m not alone in that belief, but I understand why he’s so devoted to you.” She tucked a tangled lock of hair behind one ear with a swollen finger. “I know he didn’t do it for me, but please tell him I’m grateful for the compassion he’s shown to me, my parents, and my clan.”
She said no more, retreating to a far corner of the cell, her back to the bars. Ildiko watched her for a moment, weary with sadness. Secmis’s thirst for more power had forever changed the kingdom and the people she once ruled. From the destruction of its capital to the destruction of fair Ineni—whom Ildiko once considered not only a friend but her possible replacement when the throne of Bast-Haradis was in jeopardy—the Spider Queen’s malice had infected every part of Kai existence.
Thank the gods, and Brishen, that Secmis is dead,she thought.
Sinhue clucked her disapproval when Ildiko returned to the main corridor where the others waited. “You’re white as milk, Hercegesé.” She glared in the direction of Ineni’s cell. “Did that foul creature hurt you?”
Ildiko’s maid had seen Ineni’s chimeric appearance when Anhuset and Dendarah brought her to Saggara, but didn’t know her identity beyond that of the architect behind the abductions. No one did, outside of the three people who’d rescued them and Ildiko herself. Brishen had made certain it stayed that way, swearing his cousin and the royal guard to silence. They’d done so without hesitation, Anhuset going to so far as to say “Give herto me. I’ll put her to the sword when I’m halfway to High Salure, and bury her where no one will ever find her.”
Brishen had been tempted. Ildiko had seen it in his expression, the desire to wash his hands of the entire ordeal, including the memory of Ineni’s plan for him. Instead, he’d shaken his head. “You’re the margravina of High Salure now. I shouldn’t have involved you in this in the first place. I’ll deal with her.”
Anhuset’s scowl didn’t lessen when he hugged her farewell and bid she convey tidings of good health and fast horses to her husband. “I don’t know which of you is more stubborn, but I could cheerfully bash your heads together sometimes.”
Her sour comment lightened the mood, and Ildiko seized the chance to ask her a question that had pricked her curiosity from the moment Brishen had recounted the transformed Ineni’s appearance in their camp. “Why were you so suspicious of her initially? Brishen said there were small things that seemed odd but nothing one couldn’t lay at the feet of fear and circumstance.”
The Kai woman’s citrine gaze moved over Ildiko in a slow pass. “She walked out of the woods holding a stick to defend herself. She held it completely wrong.” She sniffed with a haughtiness that made Brishen’s eyebrows rise and Ildiko smile. “I taught you better than that.”
“Hercegesé?”
Sinhue’s question brought Ildiko back to the present, and she smiled at the memory of Anhuset’s defense of her training prowess. “I’m quite well, Sinhue. Nothing a goblet of wine and a bit of sunshine can’t fix.” Her smile widened at the maid’s pinched face, alongside the palpable dismay of the guards at the idea of seeking and finding solace under the summer sun.
“As you say, Hercegesé,” Sinhue said in a most skeptical voice.
Brishen was waiting for her in the great room and instantly pulled her into one of the smaller chambers reserved for meetings. He kicked the door closed with one foot before advancing on her. She backed up, matching his determined stride until halted by the table behind her. He braced a hand on either side of her and leaned in. “I knew I should have gone with you. Or you shouldn’t have gone at all. You’re almost as pale now as when I found you at Orshulgyn.”
His comment echoed Sinhue’s earlier observation. Ildiko thumped his chest with two fingers. “Why aren’t you asleep?”
He snorted. “Surely you jest.” He pulled her close when she slid her arms over his shoulders to embrace him. “I was on my way to the prison to meet you.”
He was solid in her arms in every way, a column of strength upon which she could lean. “I’m fine,” she said. “It’s just a sad ending for a once exceptional woman. What she did was wrong in every sense, no matter the motivation behind it. I know this. I still have dreams of waking up in pain with the vultures circling over me. Of seeing her slash Tarawin’s heel and squeeze the blood from the wound. Still…”
Brishen nuzzled her temple with his nose. “I can’t let her live, Ildiko,” he whispered. “This isn’t personal vengeance, though I’ll admit to the desire for it. She abducted you with the intent to murder. And even though we’ve hidden the fact from most, she abducted the queen regnant. Both are crimes against the crown. If I offer clemency, we’ll be fighting not just for the throne but for our lives.”
She kissed the corner of his mouth. “I know. You don’t have to explain. I think she’d refuse clemency anyway. Fate has meted out its own justice.”
They spoke no more of Ineni that day or the day that followed when the sun arced toward the west and Brishen rose quietly from their bed to dress. Ildiko listened to his precisemovements, counting in her mind the number of eyelets he laced in his tunic. She pictured his garb behind closed eyelids—a justiciar’s gray outfit, lacking all adornment except for an embroidered crest near the right shoulder identifying the one wearing the outfit as a custodian of Kai law. Or, in this case, an executioner. She suspected he knew she was awake, but he remained quiet, closing the bedroom door behind him with a soft snick.
