It didn’t matter now. The odds of them leaving this room alive were slim, and if they did, it would be in manacles, on the way to prison to await execution. Queen Delia’s eyes burned with a fiery hatred, and she lifted her chin, preparing to bark out an order, but the words never left her lips.
“Your Majesty, I’m pleased to let you know that your son, Prince Syrus, is alive.”
Ellis’ voice rang out, filling every corner of the throne room and drawing every eye in the room to him. Eiri saw now just how many eyes there were, too. It seemed every courtier in Vaetreas was here, packed into the room for whatever the queen had planned. Ellis’ words sent a ripple of whispers through the crowd, followed by a wave of soft gasps when he stepped forward with Syrus at his side, his eyes open but still leaning on his baby brother for support.
Eiri edged closer, wrapping his arm around his husband’s waist to take some of the strain off Ellis. Tears pricked his eyes when Syrus looked up at him, something he’d almost let himself believe would never happen again.
“Syrus. I thought I lost you,” Eiri whispered, desperately blinking back the tears. He couldn’t show weakness in front of the queen. Other words tried to slip out, but not now. Not here, with the eyes of the entire Vaetrean court on them.
“You almost did. Thank you for saving my life.” Uncaring of their audience, Syrus kissed him. It lasted only a moment, but it was enough to send another ripple of whispers through the crowded room.
“While I am relieved to see my son well, his mind has clearly been addled. Or perhaps you neglected to tell him that Eiri C’Dari is the man who tried to kill him?” Queen Delia delivered her words with precision, leaving no doubt of where she stood and drawing a clear line in the sand. Strangely enough, though, her eyes stayed locked on Ellis, not Syrus.
Syrus drew himself up as much as he could while still needing support to stand. Eiri felt the shaking in his husband’s body, how much effort it took to do even this much. He would need days of bedrest to recover from thestali, but he wouldn’t get those days unless they survived these next few moments.
“My husband did nothing to harm me,” he declared. With his throat still ravaged by the poison, he couldn’t project like his mother and brother. Only the silence of the room allowed him to be heard at all. “Kien C’Marlo attempted to murder Eiri, and I got in the way.”
“Ambassador C’Marlo is a well-respected envoy from yourhusband’shomeland.” The queen kept her expression neutral, despite her ridiculous words. Eiri doubted there was a single moment where Delia had ever respected a Canjiri. “I assume you have some sort of proof for your wild accusations?”
“Someone found the poison in his quarters, as well as the antidote.” Xan stepped forward now, standing beside Eiri, the four of them creating a line of solidarity. “Thanks to Eiri’s quick thinking, we were able to find it and administer the cure to Prince Syrus in time to save his life.”
That was clearly news to the queen. Whatever had transpired in Kien’s quarters didn’t seem to have reached her yet. Prince Brandow must have simply responded to alarm wards on the tower, the ones Eiri had noticed and ignored in his haste to get to Syrus.
Delia’s gaze darted around the room, and Eiri could see her weighing her options. By interrupting whatever had been happening in the throne room, they’d ensured over a hundred witnesses who could attest that Prince Syrus was alive. If she sent them away now, the rumors would fly, and everyone in the city would know by nightfall. Removing the witnesses would only serve to have those rumors turn on her. No matter how loyal her people were to her, the lure of gossip would always be stronger.
If she let them stay, though, her power would be severely limited. She couldn’t very well order the arrest of two of her own children, her nephew, and her reluctant son-in-law for a murder that hadn’t happened. Left to her own devices, with noone watching, she would likely do it anyway, but now she had no ground to stand on.
“Where is Ambassador C’Marlo?” The queen turned to the man at her left, who Eiri vaguely recognized as the captain of her guards. “Bring him to me.”
“Yes, your Majesty.” The man touched his fist to his chest, bowed, and left the room, taking a dozen of his guards with him.
“You’ve given me no proof of the ambassador’s guilt,” she continued, her attention coming back to the four of them. “I have, however, seen evidence of Eiri C’Dari’s guilt. He will be remanded to the prison cells until we can conduct a trial. Syrus, my personal guards will escort you to the healer’s ward.”
Eiri clutched at Syrus’ waist, an inexorable tide of fear rising in him. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if he went back down into a cell, he would never walk out again. Syrus knew it as well from the way he tightened his own hold on Eiri.
“That won’t be necessary,” Syrus said as loudly as he could. He claimed he didn’t have a head for politics, but he’d clearly recognized how important these stolen moments in front of witnesses were. “Eiri is my husband and will remain by my side.”
“Eiri still stands accused of murder until I see anything proving otherwise.” Finally, the queen descended from her dais and crossed the room to stand before them, belatedly realizing how it would look to the courtiers that she didn’t act relieved to see her son alive.
“You know perfectly well that Eiri didn’t do anything.”
To Eiri’s surprise, it was Ellis that spoke. He moved to stand to Eiri’s left, so he had a Vardor prince on each side of him. Even those who couldn’t hear their words would see the blatant show of support.
“Watch your tongue,” she hissed, somehow still keeping herface perfectly even, the epitome of a queen in control of her surroundings.
“No, I don’t think I will. Not this time.” Ellis had Queen Delia’s full attention again, but he didn’t waver beneath her penetrating stare. He stood strong, unblinking, as he met his mother’s eyes. It was a side of Ellis Vardor he’d never seen before.
“I understand this must be confusing for you, given your age and inexperience, but you have to trust me, dear.” Delia spoke for the benefit of the witnesses, not for her son.
“I understand perfectly well. After all, I’m the one who found the poison in Ambassador C’Marlo’s room.”
Gasps rippled through the room, and Eiri stood in awe of Ellis. Now, it wasn’t the word of Prince Syrus’ hated husband against the word of the equally disliked Canjiri ambassador. Now, it was the word of their beloved youngest prince against their enemy, and Eiri knew who they would side with.
“I also have proof that the poison was meant for Eiri, not Syrus,” Ellis continued, with a confidence Eiri had never seen in him before. He knew he’d won in the court of public opinion and, in the end, that mattered more than any trial. “My brother survived thanks to his husband, who recognized the signs and allowed us to save him. It’s clear that the only person at fault is Kien C’Marlo.”
Queen Delia’s jaw clenched tight, but she still kept her expression mostly even. She took another step toward them, close enough to touch Ellis. To the witnesses, it looked like a mother simply taking her son’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him or show support. Eiri saw the way her knuckles whitened, though, and knew the grip would leave bruises on Ellis’ shoulder. Syrus shifted beside Eiri, ready to come to his brother’s defense despite how weak he remained from the poison.
“What do you think is going to happen here?” she whispered fiercely, for their ears alone.
