Cavendish’s face soured at mention of Elizabeth. “Stay out of it, Veliant. You know damned well why they aren’t in Verwyrd. Once tempers cool, Ginny and her ladies will return.”
“I’m sure it’s only a matter of months until Lestara forgets being led around by a collar and made to piss in the corner while Virginia and her ladies laughed.”
Keris pushed past Cavendish and trotted to catch up to a singing William, noting that the soldiers forming the king’s bodyguard all had expressions of disgust on their faces. His behavior was not kingly in any circumstances, but with Harendell teetering toward war, his blatant carousing would be rubbing many the wrong way. Which of course meant that Keris intended to encourage it.
He slung an arm around William’s shoulder, then said, “Join me for a game, Majesty? I grow weary of playing for coppers.”
“I’ve already lost enough coin to you at the races,” William replied, veering sideways and into an alehouse.
It fell entirely silent as they entered, all eyes turning to them, and Keris had to fight back a cold smile as he recognized men from earlier establishments.
“Well, this is a dour crowd,” William muttered. “Perhaps we try another?”
He turned, then someone shouted, “The witch let you out to play, Your Grace?”
William stiffened, then whirled, staggering into Keris before righting himself. “Who said that?”
No one answered.
“Who the fuck said that?”
Silence.
“Let’s leave, Your Grace,” Cavendish muttered. “It’s just drunks speaking out of turn.”
William looked ready to argue, but then allowed the other man to pull him back. But as he turned, someone shouted, “Queen of Carrion!” and another followed up with, “Butcher of Babies!”
“Silence!” William shrieked. “Bring forward those who dare to speak such slander!”
No one so much as twitched.
“I will have your tongues!” William shook with rage. “Who dares to speak against my queen?”
“Where is Miss Ginny?” It was one of the barmaids who spoke, a broad woman who looked as though she took no nonsense from patrons. “Where is the princess? Your sister, Your Grace? Why is she not at court?”
William stared at her, his alcohol-addled mind not putting together the connection. “Grieving, you fool!”
“Ain’t got anything to do with her treating theGood Queenas she deserves, do it?”
Next to him, William purpled with anger. “Guards!” he shouted. “Arrest her!”
“She ain’t saying anything we aren’t all thinking!” The man who spoke abruptly stood, banging into his table as he did. His cheeks were ruddy with drink. “The witch betrayed Maridrina to EmpressPetra to get rid of this useless tit”—he jerked his chin at Keris—“and the whole damned city burned. We all know the truth of it.”
“That’s lies!” Spittle flew from William’s lips. “Petra was the villain. She manipulated Lestara. Tricked her!”
“Harendell don’t want a queen who can be manipulated or tricked any more than we want a murderess!” the man roared. “Cast the witch back to Cardiff! Bring home Miss Ginny!”
“Cast back the witch! Bring home Miss Ginny!” The crowd filling the common room erupted into a chant.
William released a howl of rage. “Arrest them! Arrest every last one of them and throw them in the stocks for slander!”
“You’re under her spell, William,” the barmaid screamed. “Cast out the Carrion Queen!”
This was going better than he might have hoped, but as Keris fought back an expression of delight that the populace had risen so quickly, William withdrew his sword. In a flash, the tip was digging between Keris’s ribs, right above his heart.
“Tell them!” William screamed the words, but tears were flooding down his cheeks. “Tell them the truth, Veliant! Tell them what happened in Vencia was your fault, not Lestara’s! Tell them, or I’ll skewer your heart, empress be damned!”
The blade cut through his clothes. Keris tried to step back, but his shoulders struck the door.
