Trembling with frustration, she watched Ferisa slip over the wall, and then she rushed to Amron, who was pressing the wound on his father’s belly with a bundle of cloth.
“Raise the alarm! Let the guards bring the physician here,” he said.
“No!” his father ordered. His breath was ragged, his face deathly pale in the moonlight, but his voice was stern and clear. “Sit beside me for a second.”
“Father, you must—”
“Don’t argue with me, boy. Sit down.”
Without further arguing, Amron sat on the gravel.
“How did you find me?” the king asked.
“Lenka told me where you were, I came to tell you that Roderi of Elmar…”
“…Is a traitor. I know.”
“What were you doing here, then?” Amron asked.
“I thought I could get to Roderi by reasoning with her. More fool me.” The king coughed weakly. “Where’s your wife?”
“I sent Melia to tell her father to run from Abia and hide in Syr. We can’t let the Seragians know he’s behind it.”
“You want to hide the treachery?”
“Yes.”
There was a long pause.
“Did you conspire with your wife and father-in-law to bring your brother down?” the king asked.
“No!”
“You’ve always been jealous of Amril. That strange attack yesterday—how convenient that you weren’t hurt.”
“Father, you can’t believe—”
“And your wife, skulking around, reporting to her father. Thisis all your fault for dragging them here. What’s your plan? Tell me.”
“Stop it!” Liana growled. And then she turned to Amron. “Get your mother, now!”
Pale with shock, he opened his mouth to argue, but she cried, “Go!” and he ran.
“It’s you,” the king said, studying her face. “I should have guessed. Will you finish what that bitch started?”
“You’re drunk,” Liana spat.
He tried to grab her arm, but Liana was stronger. She caught his wrist and removed his hand. “Your Majesty, you’re drunk,” she repeated, calmer, “and wounded and confused. But Amron is loyal to you and is currently doing everything he can to stop the conflict. If you can’t see that, you should be seriously worried about your judgment.”
The only answer was the king’s fast, shallow breathing.
“All Amron ever wanted was for you to acknowledge how damn good he was at everything you threw at him,” she added, even though she knew it was futile.
And then voices echoed among the trees, footsteps on the gravel, and Amron appeared, followed by the queen in her nightgown with a pale lilac shawl wrapped around her shoulders.
“You need a physician,” Queen Orsiana said, her voice leaving no room for argument. “But discreetly. Let’s get you to my room. Amron, please.”
Unwilling to spin wild accusations before his wife, the king allowed Amron to prop him up. Liana stepped to the other side to help him.
