“Four in this lot are tributaries. They must have tainted themselves within the last day because the keepers all fed recently without issue. The rest are regular servants,” Boaz confirms, his hand resting on his pommel.
Regular servants who were determined to never serve as tributaries again. “And did they ingest it knowingly?” Or was it forced on them, like Sabrina?
“Does it matter? They wear the mark. They cannot be allowed to live, Your Highness. You’ve said so yourself.”
“I know what I said.” I move toward the group. The stench of piss grows stronger as I approach, the dark spots on the sandy ground marking those who’ve lost control of their bladders.
Most of them bow, despite their predicament. They’re a mix of ages, from elderly to barely past Presenting Day. One of them—a wiry old woman with spotty skin and no cuff in her ear, a Rookery inhabitant, surely—sneers. Defiant, even in her last hour of breath.
“Why did you take the poison?” I ask to no one in particular.
Silence answers.
“Really? No one has a good reason for wanting to commit murder? I find that hard to believe.” Because, despite not wanting to spare their blood any longer, what they’ve done is tantamount to that.
“These here didn’t have nothing to do with it, Your Highness.” A gray-haired man waves a hand at three women in their early thirties, gripping each other’s arms. One of them is pregnant. “I knew their keepers would be knockin’ on their doors soon enough again, so I put some in their drink. Please, spare ’em. I beg it of ya. I’ll take whatever punishment you wanna give, but show them mercy.”
Echoes of “Mercy, please!” rise from the mortals, churning my stomach. I have to turn away. Battles with enemies holding swords, I can handle. Helpless, unarmed mortals begging for their lives, on the other hand …
“Silence!” Boaz barks, the ring of steel from his blade sliding out of its scabbard quieting the crowd immediately.
Heavy footfalls sound then as guards lead eight more mortals in at sword point.
Three are children. One is too young to comprehend what’s happening. Certainly, too young to ingest the poison on her own. Her blue eyes are wide as she takes in the people, her thumb stuck in her mouth.
She reminds me of Gracen’s daughter.
A mixture of nausea and anger hits.
What if Romeria is telling the truth? What if the poison flowing through these mortals’ veins means nothing in just days?
And what if Gracen somehow finds out that I knew?
She would see me as a monster, and she would be right to.
I gave the order to execute children the night of the royal repast, as a show of zero tolerance, and those faces have lingered in my mind ever since. I can’t make that same decision again, not if there is a chance.
And yet I find myself in an impossible position. Letting these mortals walk free will only encourage others who may have been hesitant. What’s more, the keepers will slaughter them. It’s no longer safe for them in the streets.
And what if the curse is not lifted on Hudem? What if that is a stalling tactic?
Damn you, Romeria.
Damn you and your letter.
“Long live, Princess Romeria!” the spotty old lady from the Rookery shouts. “May she reign over all—”
Her words are cut off by a dagger through her throat, earning gasps and shrieks.
I sigh. Boaz’s aim has always been true, whether it be blade or arrow. In this case, it wasn’t needed, and now the mortals are only more agitated.
“If the mortal admits to malicious intent when Wendeline is marking them, hang them outside their doors and be done with them.” There can be no mercy for them in my kingdom. “The rest, bring here, but do not execute them yet. Post guards at all arena entrances. Feed them and do not harm them.”
Boaz scowls “Your Highness, they are tainted.”
“Yes, I understand that,” I say with forced patience. “What about the children you have gathered in the ballroom? How many are there?”
“I have not counted, but many. We have targeted the areas of the city known for larger households first, to avoid a rush of dosing.”
“As always, you are strategic.” Sometimes too much. “And their keepers?”
“Most complied. A few rebelled, and I made swift examples of them. Resistance should be minimal going forward.”
“I don’t need the whole of Cirilea against me, Boaz.”
“What of the children? Who have you placed in there to care for them?” Kazimir speaks up.