Many thanks to my advance readers, including Not_E and happyyy_, as well as to my editor LaRascasse.
Content warning
: references to sexual assault, references to bodily mutilation
***
Litheian walked down the long stone hall, pausing as the walls gave way to the open courtyard, the summer sun shining down on the carefully tended garden on the ground floor. The royal palace in Kiridas was full of such small wonders, balancing the need for light and warmth in the lowland plains of Anderar. She smiled, seeing that the irises were blooming, their creamy heads rising above darker folded-down petals.
Across the courtyard, she saw Idano going in the opposite direction. Catching sight of her, he walked towards where she stood, flanked by her attendants.
"
Il-hanaa
," he said, bowing low.
"
Il-sushvyan
," she replied. "What brings you to the palace today?"
His brows arched subtly in surprise. "The Council convened a meeting. I thought you were headed there yourself,
il-hanaa
."
She frowned. Why would Anderar's Council be meeting without her?
"It is good that we met, then," she replied cooly, nodding politely by way of farewell, and he bowed again.
Picking up her skirts, Litheian headed purposefully for the Council room. She would lecture her advisers later for failing to inform her. Nearing the double doors to the hall, she waved for them to be opened, and the great oiled hinges swung silently.
"-- not a matter for discussion!" Bethaer was saying as she entered.
The Council elders in their seats nodded to her and she returned the gesture, setting her eyes on her husband's standing figure at the end of the table. He was flustered and frustrated, so unlike his usual demeanor when dealing with matters of state.
"I apologize for interrupting,
il-rathshaen
," she said quietly, though the words carried in the silent hall. "I was only just informed of this meeting."
She glanced at her husband, who was shifting guiltily from foot to foot. The lords and ladies of the Council likewise avoided her gaze, and she fought to calm the sudden anger that rose in her blood. There were few times she was treated as less than her husband's equal, but when it happened she had to rake over the coals of her fury so that her temper simmered instead of boiling.
Sedately she went to sit by her husband's side, clasping her hands together as she turned to the most senior council member, Fatan. He had only recently returned from his year at the high court, serving on the High Council. He eyed her, his face unreadable.
"I would hear what matter the Council wishes to discuss," she said, ignoring her husband's gaze. He was trying to catch her eye, no doubt to dissuade her from insisting on the subject. That made her want to know all the more.
Fatan glanced about the table, as if to see if anyone else would speak first. When no one did, he sighed. "For the future and security of Anderar, it is imperative that you bear more children,
il-hanaa
."
Beside her, Bethaer bristled. She reached out a hand to him without looking, a small warning not to interfere.
"Our daughter is to inherit the throne when she comes of age," Litheian reminded them, voice low. If the Council thought they could deprive her child of her rightful place, she would not hesitate to show them her wrath.
"We do not dispute the judgment of the High Council," Fatan assured her. "But your position would be more secure with multiple potential heirs if -- gods forbid -- some calamity should strike the royal family."
"Losing your queen would also be a great calamity," Bethaer all but growled.
Another elder spoke up, a woman named Kilda. "We have confirmed with the court midwife that her majesty is healthy enough to bear a second child, as she has already informed you,
il-hanaa
."
"And as
I
have already told
you
," Bethaer snapped, "This is a private matter that should remain free of the court's interference."
"If House Andertha had even one other remaining member, then I would agree,
il-hanaan
," Kilda replied. "But you are the last surviving male descendant of Anderan. To pull a successor from another branch of his family would upset the balance we have only just reestablished these past few years."
Out of the corner of her eye, Litheian could see Bethaer gritting his teeth, and she pulled back her hand with a sigh.
"We have heard your concerns and we will consider your wise counsel," she said firmly. "But my husband is also correct. This is a private matter we must discuss between us first."
"Very well," Fatan said. "We await your decision,
ilen-hanaen
."
Litheian nodded politely and stood, sweeping out of the hall without waiting for her husband to join her. He must have deliberately withheld knowledge of their meeting from her, not wanting her to face a room full of elders pressuring her to submit her body once more to what was necessary to conceive a child. Well-meaning but overstepping nonetheless.
She was striding down the corridor, her attendants scurrying behind her, when she heard the commotion in the great hall. Frowning, she made for the giant, airy room, which was filling with subjects in preparation for when she and Bethaer would hold court that afternoon. Only the first twenty citizens could be admitted without referral from their provincial governors, and one man had arrived too late to earn a spot.
"Come back tomorrow!" the guard shouted, directing him back into the crowd.
"But I've traveled for weeks!" the man protested.
"Then you should have lined up sooner!" admonished another man. "I slept by the gate all night for my place!"
"You don't understand!" the man shouted.
Litheian turned to go, but not quickly enough.
"
Il-hanaa
!" the man cried out. "I beg of you, render your judgment!"
She forced her hands, which had balled into fists, to loosen and rest at her side. A knot of dread was forming in her stomach, for she'd heard this plea before.
Turning to face the door, she lifted her skirts and walked imperiously down the hall, past the line of waiting subjects. The man knelt on the floor as she approached, solidifying her suspicion. All around them the courtiers and citizens held their breaths.
"Your queen hears your desperation," she said, voice steady despite the cold feeling in her bones. "I shall hear your plea directly."
"Do not forgive me,
il-hanaa
," the man pleaded, face to the floor.
She swallowed. "Do you come to confess a crime?"
"I do," the man answered, and the crowd began to whisper and writhe in anticipation.
Litheian held up a hand, and the great hall went silent.
"Confess," she told him, dreading his words.
"I committed a most terrible crime against you,
il-hanaa
," he declared. "I dared to harm your person while you were with child. Please, render your judgment against me."
"Show your face," she commanded, and he lifted his head.
Litheian flinched. Seeing the recognition in her eyes, the man put his head to the ground once more. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, her heart beating faster with fear and fury. This was the last man who'd used her before Olandrion consigned her to the
rashd
.
"Why come forward now?" she demanded. "You could have lived out your days with none the wiser."
"I could not bear the guilt of my sin," he replied. "So please,
il-hanaa
, give me a criminal's death."
She curled her lip at him. If he were so desperate to die, why had he not thrown himself in the Taiber River and spared her the sight of his face, the memories of his presence?
"You shall not have it," she told him, voice cold. Bethaer had executed the last man who came forward, and she had merely stood by. But for her, death was too lenient.
"You shall be branded," she announced, "and your manhood cut from your body. But you shall keep your hands, for you will need them in the mines."
The crowd pulsed, people nodding and murmuring to each other. She turned away from the cowering man as he was hauled away, not stopping until she met her husband in the doorway.
She halted, tense and trembling, staring straight ahead. "I shall not attend court today," she said flatly, and he nodded silently.
He moved aside to let her pass and she hastened toward the royal apartments. Only after her chamber door shut behind her did she allow herself to breathe, her exhales coming out as sobs. She crumpled to the floor as Lisse ran to her, cries wracking her body.
***
Bethaer sat alone through the complaints of the nobles and commoners, calling an early end once the urgent matters had been seen to. He stalked down the hallways with a scowl, servants and courtiers alike giving him a wide berth. When he reached the training grounds, he threw off his jacket, reaching for a sword before his attendants could bring forth his personal weapons.
The guards held back until the captain of the queen's guard himself walked out into the yard to meet his challenge. They would have all heard by now, he knew, and their trepidation was warranted. The last time a former soldier had voluntarily confessed to raping Anderar's now-queen, he'd nearly maimed an opponent in his fury. But the captain was better at a sword than him, and they sparred until the evening.
Bethaer called for a bath before dining with the rest of court, where his advisers only nodded politely, leaving him to brood alone. He nursed his wine, knowing his wife would be waiting for him tonight, after he'd gone around her in meeting with the Council. He'd been ready to face her ire, but not like this.
He entered his chamber warily. Litheian sat at the edge of his bed, her face pale and drawn. He could tell she'd been weeping, for her eyes were red and puffy even in the dim lamplight. He felt the urge to comfort her but knew this would only make her angrier. She was not here tonight to join him in bed and hold him tight, as she did when her nightmares plagued her and only his sleeping form could keep them at bay.
She didn't turn to look at him as he walked over, nor when he sat heavily by her side.
"I should not have hidden the matter from you,
im-uvnya
," he said.
