Chapter 46: The King's First Act

Chapter 46: The King's First Act

During the whole course of his trial, the duke said only five words. Nothing more. Not in defense, not in accusation, not in answer to even the most simple of questions. He stood before the council and stared at a point straight ahead. He did not look at Orin; he did not even look at the Lady Adelaide Sung, his estranged wife. His gaze fixedly occupied the empty place at the tables head where the king would have sat. Orins coronation had taken place the day after the funeral, but he had sat in the crown princes chair before his advisors had the chance to correct him. Whether he had done so out of accidental habit, or in tribute to his late father, it was impossible to tell: his face was without expression. Like Duke Sung, King Orin said only a handful of words. His advisors asked the questions; some of those called before them even had the grace to answer.

The southern lords had been held separately since the night of Liams death. Now, brought before the council singly, with no time to confer, they told remarkably similar stories. They each believed the dukes accusations of Orin being a doppel, to a greater or lesser extent. Some provided entertainment to the trials spectators by seething that he should be killed, that this was all some plot of his devising. To these, the new king had nothing to say. Others admitted to being unsure, but trusting their liege lords word enough to be concerned; and so they had come north to add their names to his petition, to make sure it was given a fair hearing. The king had nothing to say to these, either. All claimed ignorance of any plot against Liams life; many professed their sympathies, and over kirins bone, Aaron supposed they had to be at least a bit sincere. Either that, or they were a den of foxes.

One confessed that the duke had told them the signal ahead of time. Back before they had ever set out, months before things had come to this. If the banshees wailed while their party was there, they were to assume that they were being framed for Liams murder. They should strike at the royal guard from behind, and overwhelm them. They should flee back south to rally a defense. They should not, under any circumstances, wait for him.

A member of the Late Wakea nondescript man who slouched warily through the doors of the council chamber, but straightened his back easily into noble lines once facing themtestified regarding the foxs tongue. The four tails had been found dead by a poacher the morning that the duke addressed his petition to the council. Killed during the night, its jaws spread wide in a red laughing grin and its tongue severed at the base. The poacher had tried to sell its tails, which had rather quickly brought him to the attention of the Late Wakes man, who had gotten the story from him. Hed seen the beasts body himself that same day, and it was as the poacher said.New novel chapters are published on

What effects do a foxs tongue have? the Lady asked, for the courts benefit.

None for the most part, My Lady, he replied. You cant tell a man whos eaten one by sight, or by any other test I know, save one: that man could stand before a kirins own council, and tell it like the sky was green. If it was Duke Sung whos eaten it, he could stand here and say anything he pleased. Truth isnt much matter to a fox, and kirins bone wont change that.

Speak your piece, Duke Sung, and be judged by it, he commanded, Or hold your silence, and be judged still.

Sung shifted his eyes to the new king, and met his gaze evenly. My actions were my own.

King Orins expression did not change. Then be it on you.

His dismissal of the court was every bit as clear as his fathers had been, just days before. The duke was escorted out, flanked by redcoats. As he did, just that once, his gray eyes found the blue of his wifes. The Lady brought a hand to her face as if distraught, but Aaron had seen that look before.

It was a smile that reached her eyes.

He didnt know if the bad feeling started then or if, like a banshees wail, it was something that had begun long ago, but to which hed grown too accustomed to notice.