A few heads turned his way. Whispers raced across the hall as he strode forward. With a flick of his fingers, he signaled his guards to remain behind. They would only get in the way.
From the throne, Lady Satryani’s calm voice rang out, “Ah, Escort Vern, how fortuitous that you’ve returned. I have a situation where you could be of great help.”
Madeline flinched, her hair whipping as she partially turned her head. It was only a few seconds, then her shoulders straightened, and she stared ahead again.
Halting a short distance from the line of guards, Vern clasped a hand over his bracer, a thumb running along the metal studs. He inclined his head in a modest gesture of respect that stirred the nobles’ whispers. “Duchess Satryani, I am glad to be back and always ready to aid the court. However, I couldn’t help but notice the rotting bodies at our gates. As pleasant as it is to see Nadrakens given the end they deserve, corpses make for truly hideous decor.” Snapping his fingers, he angled his chin to the rose guard who stepped closer. “Dispose of the bodies.”
“Yes, Escort.” A pair of footsteps left the hall.
Vern then addressed the duchess’ guards. “Step aside. Escort Madeline is of the Queen’s retinue. She will return with me.”
The guards didn’t move.
From the throne, Satryani’s voice was lightly amused, “I’d forgotten about those corpses. Thank you for cleaning up, my lord. But you haven’t even heard what your fellow Escort has done.” Her attention shifted toward the hearth, and she beckoned with two fingers. “Bring them.”
Two young men were dragged to the front. One wore charred pants bearing the red nine-pointed star on his left leg. The other was a servant in the drab brown of a kitchen worker.
“Go on, boy,” the lady urged. “Tell Count Vern what you saw.”
Vern drawled, “You would let a servant condemn an Escort?”
A male voice amongst the nobles called out, “We’d like to hear the servant, Lord Vern. You haven’t heard the rumors in the last few weeks. This is our chance to know the truth!”
Several assenting murmurs followed. Vern sought out the voice – Ronen, a Gamuth baron. Truth, indeed. His cold stare lingered for the few seconds that the baron was able to hold his gaze, then his eyes slowly drifted from noble to smiling noble. The snakes smelled blood. They would not have Madeline’s.
The young man spoke softly. “I was bringing pastries from the kitchen when I came across the Escort. Well, I bumped into her, actually. The tray was full, and I was clumsy, and… anyways, she was kind enough to steady the tray for me. If she hadn’t, I’m sure I would’ve dropped–”
“No one cares about the pastries, boy,” Satryani scolded. “Tell us what you saw. Who was with the girl– the Lady Madeline?”
“I… yes, I’m sorry, my lady. I saw…” He stuttered, his eyes fixed on the floor as he gestured at the Nadraken. “I recognized him from the Consort Tournament – well, when the ambassadors arrived for the tournament. I was serving drinks that day, and, um…” He swallowed. “He was with the lady Escort. He was wearing servants’ clothes. I thought that was strange, but she's an Escort. I didn't say anything.”
“But you followed them,” the duchess prompted.
The young man’s shoulders dropped. “Yes, my lady. I shouldn't have. I handed my tray to someone else and ran after them. She went to the stables. I saw her… give him a horse and let him ride away.”
Lady Satryani said almost gently, “And still, you told no one. You may as well have helped the prisoner escape. It's only thanks to the stablemaster’s diligence in a lost mount that we caught the runaway.”
Shaking overcame the servant’s hands. He hugged himself and fell quiet.
A satisfied smirk curved the duchess’ lips. Her gaze shifted to Vern. “Upon recovering the prisoner, more surprises were found with him. Supplies and food stolen from the kitchens, even a weapon with the royal mark. Incidentally, Escort Madeline was missing her dagger. There have been rumors of a woman aiding the Nadrakens in the dungeons – feeding them, comfortingthem. We could never catch her, because, of course, a guard would never question an Escort.”
She let angry murmurs rise amongst the nobles. Her raised hand quieted them. “I can’t begin to imagine the Queen’s punishment for a betrayal from one of her own, particularly in aiding a Nadraken spy of all people. But I do know the Queen would want an enemy sympathizer to walk the coals. Escort Madeline will walk until her feet are blackened and burned so that the Queen knows justice has been served.”
Lady Satryani had no idea what Anais would want.
The nobles broke out in clapping and laughter, their noise echoing through the hall. They would delight in the pain and humiliation of an Escort. It wasn’t unheard of for one of them to suffer in court – but always and only for the Queen.
He examined the Nadraken. The ‘spy’ was just a boy. Likely in his early twenties. Soft hands, pretty face, frightened but resigned eyes. A courtesan, perhaps a slave. Satryani wouldn’t care who he was. Neither could he.
Vern strode closer to the guards. They would move, or he would move them. “As I said, the Escort will come with me. I would not dare deprive the Queen of a single moment of her preferred retribution. Would you?”
He spoke directly into the pale face of an uncertain guard. The man’s fingers twitched. Vern maintained a cold, bored expression as he hoped – silently urged – the guard to draw a weapon. How quickly they would fall. Here, in court, he wouldn’t hold back. The nobles’ bloodlust would be more than satisfied with the river he wanted to let flow at Satryani’s feet.
The crowd’s clamor and cheer faltered. The guard in his way lowered his eyes, bowed his head, and angled his body to allow Vern passage.
He moved behind Madeline and placed a hand on her shoulder. A tremor passed beneath his palm.
The steady tapping of Lady Satryani’s claws could be heard in the now-quiet hall. Her amusement had vanished. “It is a shame to see an Escort fall so far. Trust is such a rare commodity these days.” Her claws flicked. The guards surrounding them stepped back. “I am sure you know best where it concerns a mere handmaiden, Lord Vern. Take her if you wish.”
