Harristan never visits the Hold. If he wants to see a prisoner, theyโre dragged into the palace in chains and deposited on theย oor at his feet. To my knowledge, heโs never set foot inside the prison since the day our parents died. Possibly not even before.
I, however, am well acquainted. I know every guard, every cell, every lock, every brick. When I wasย ๎een, already drowning in grief so thick I could barely breathe past it, I quickly learned how to block emotion once I stepped past the heavy oak doors. We couldnโt a๏ฌord one single moment of weakness, and I would not be the one to cause my brotherโs downfall. I have heard every manner of scream withoutย inching. I have listened to promises and threats and curses and liesโand occasionally, the truth.
I have never hesitated in doing what needs to be done.
Today, Allisander has accompanied me to the Hold. A๎er learning of the smuggling operation, he delayed his return home. Both he and Lissa have stated that they will remain in the palace until they can be certain there is no danger to their supply runs.
Iโve o๎en imagined Allisander walking through these halls, but in my imagination, heโs usually in chains, a guard prodding him with a blade, instead of how he looks right now: exasperated and hu๏ฌy, with a handkerchief pressed over his nose and mouth.
โIs there nothing you can do for theย smell?โ he says.
โItโs a prison,โ I say to him. โ๎ขe residents arenโt motivated to make it pleasant.โ
He sighs, then winces, as if it required more inhaling than he was ready for. โYou could have brought them to the palace.โ
โ๎ขe last thing I need is eight martyrs being marched through the Royal Sector.โ I glance over. โI told you theyโre a sympathetic lot.โ
He glances back and seems to be taking shallow breaths through his mouth. I have to force my eyes not to roll.
โDid they reveal the names of any other smugglers?โ he says.
โNo.โ We reach the end of the hallway, which leads to a descending staircase.ย ๎ขe guards here snap to attention and salute me.ย ๎ขe smell is only going to get worse, but I donโt warn Allisander.
โNothing?โ he demands. โAnd you questioned them thoroughly? You were convincing?โ
โAre you asking if I tortured them?โ
He hesitates. Most of the consulsโhell, most of the elites, if not most of Kandalaโdonโt like what I do, but they say nothing because they believe it keeps them safe.ย ๎ขey donโt mind it as long as they donโt have to talk about it.ย ๎ขeyโll wrap it up in pretty language and dance around terms like torture and execution by asking if Iโmย encouraging forthright answersย orย terminating a risk to the populace.
Allisander is bolder than most, though, and his hesitation only lasts a
second. โYes.ย ๎ขatโs precisely what Iโm asking.โ โNo.โ
โWhy not?โ
Because despite all outward appearances, Iโm not cruel. I donโt delight in pain. I donโt delight in any of this.
And theyโre all sentenced to die.ย ๎ขe penalties for the๎ย and smuggling are well known, and each prisoner knew it before they stole theย rst petals. Half of them are terriย ed. I only had to question one to discover that they were working together in the loosest sense of the word. One outright fainted when the guards let me into her cell.
Cutting o๏ฌย theirย ngers or whatever Allisander is imagining feels like overkill.
โIn my experience,โ I say, โthose who are facing execution are not eager to share information that will help their captors.โ
Heโs frowning behind his handkerchief. โBut there could be more. Our supply runs could be at greater risk than we expected.โ
โ๎ขeyโre roughshod laborers, Consul, not military strategists. From what I can tell, theyโre not very organized.โ Itโs likely the reason they were all captured so quickly.
We reach the bottom of the staircase. While the palace and many of the homes in the Royal Sector have been wired for electricity, the lowest level of the Hold has not. Outside, itโs morning, but down here, itโs dim and cold, lit by oil lamps hung at odd intervals, with gray walls and black bars.ย ๎ขere are twenty cells, but theyโre never occupied for long.
โGo ahead,โ I say. โQuestion whoever youโd like.โ
He looks at me like he was expecting . . . more. As if I were going to walk down the line of cells and personally introduce him to each captive.
I lean against the opposite wall, fold my arms, and raise my eyebrows. โYou canโt very well do it a๎er theyโre dead.โ
Allisander starts to sigh, thinks better of it, and turns for theย rst cell.
๎ขis one holds a man named Lochlan. Heโs not more than twenty-ย ve, with coal-black hair, pale, heavily freckled skin, and arms bearing a lifetime of burn scars from a forge. When I questioned him, he stared back at me fearlessly and refused to say a word.ย ๎ขis is the kind of man Allisander would torture, but I know it wouldnโt make any di๏ฌerence. Iโve seen Lochlanโs type before, men who think they can survive an execution through sheer force of will.
๎ขey canโt.
Heโs sitting in the back of his cell, glaring darkly at both of us, but when the consul approaches the bars, Lochlan rises to his feet and comes forward. His expression is similar to one Iโd wear if I were free to make my feelings for Consul Sallister known.
Allisander clears his throat as if heโs addressing a dinner party. โI would like to know the names of any associates youโโ
Lochlan spits right in his face. Some hits the handkerchief, but most hits Allisander right between the eyes.
He sputters and swipes at his face, then takes a step forward, rage transforming his features. โYou will pay for that, you stupidโโ
โConsul!โ I start forward, but Iโm too far. Lochlan has already reached through the bars to grab the front of Allisanderโs jacket. He jerks him face-
rst into the steel. Blood blossoms on the consulโs face.
โI know who you are,โ Lochlan is snarling. Down the hallway, the other prisoners have been drawn to their own bars by the sound of the commotion, and those who can see begin yelling.
โKill him!โ they scream. โKill him!โ
Lochlan jerks Allisander against the bars again, and itโs clear he needs no encouragement. โYouโre the killer. I know what youโre doing to your people.โ
๎ขe guards are nearly upon us, but Lochlan rallies to jerk Allisander against the bars again.ย ๎ขis time might really be a killing blow. I draw back a
st and throw a punch right into Lochlanโs wrist where it extends through the bars.ย ๎ขe bones give with a sickening crack. He lets go and drops back, screaming, clutching his arm to his chest.
Allisander falls to his knees in the hallway, choking on blood and mucus and arrogance. Rust-colored dirt from theย oor is in streaks on his pristine clothing. His breathing is broken and hitching, marked by a thin whimper every few breaths. I stare down at him for a second longer than necessary.
Perhaps I delight inย someย pain.
I drop to a crouch in front of him. โLook at me,โ I say. โIs your nose broken?โ
โI want him dead.โ His voice is thick and nasally, but he doesnโt glance up. โHe will be,โ I say. โBut I canโt kill him twice. Now look at me.โ
He spits blood at the ground, then draws a ragged breath and looks up. A lump is already forming above his le๎ย eyebrow. Heโll have two black eyes, and his lip is split, but his nose looks straight as ever. Pity.
๎ขe guards haveย lled the hallway now, chasing the other prisoners back from their bars. Lochlan is curled on theย oor of his cell, dry-heaving over his broken arm. One of the guards has a hand on the cell door, but he looks to me, waiting for an order on whether he should take action.
I shake my head, and the guard gives a brief nod before stepping away. I draw my own handkerchief from a pocket and hold it out to Allisander. โHere.โ
He takes it, somewhat sheepishly, and presses it to his mouth. I rather doubt he needs me to tell him he shouldnโt have stepped right up to the bars like that, so I donโt.
I straighten. โSo,โ I say brightly, and he blinks wearily up at me. โWho would you like to question next?โ
 |
Harristan isย t to be tied.
โWhy would you bring him there?โ he demands. โWhat were you thinking?โ
โI was thinking that our richest consul made a request, and I sought to honor it.โ
โWell, now heโs requesting a spectacle.โ My brother is pacing theย oor along the windowed wall of his chambers.ย ๎ขe weather has turned overcast, promising rain and lending enough shadows to match his mood. โHeโs requesting that we send a clear message to anyone else who might be considering a similar plot.โ
For all my brotherโs anxious movement, Iโm motionless in a chair. โWeโre executing eight prisoners, Harristan. Itโll be a spectacle.โ
He stops and looks at me. Some unspoken emotion passes between us, a mixture of regret and loss and fury, but he blinks and itโs gone. His voice goes quiet. โHow are you going to do it?โ
In moments like this, I sometimes wonder if Harristan regrets that moment with Allisander from so long ago, as if our father yielding to Nathaniel Sallister then would have somehow staved o๏ฌย Allisanderโs manipulations now.
I doubt it. I think heโd be worse.
I think weโd be forced toย doย worse.
I inhale to answer, but a sharp rap sounds at the door. Harristan doesnโt look away. โEnter,โ he calls.
๎ขe door swings wide, and a guard says, โYour Majesty, Master Quint would likeโโ
โNo,โ says Harristan. His eyes still havenโt le๎ย mine. โOh, let him in,โ I say.
My brother sighs and glances at the doorway. โYou have ten minutes, Quint.โ
Quint was bouncing outside the door like an eager puppy, documents and folios clutched to his chest, but now he comes bustling through. His jacket is unbuttoned, his hair unruly. He never bothered with a shave this morning, so his pale jaw is dusted with red. โI only need nine.โ
โIโm counting.โ
Quint sets down his materials and launches into a litany of issues in the palace, from a shortage of straw bedding for the royal cattle requiring a decision on whether to substitute wood shavings, to a disagreement among
the kitchen sta๏ฌย about whether Harristan prefers ivory tablecloths trimmed in green or burgundy tablecloths trimmed in gray. My brother casts me a withering glance when Quint shi๎s into a request from the Royal Sector to ring the dawn bells at two hoursย pastย dawn so people arenโt woken so early.
โCould they really be calledย dawnย bells, then?โ I say.
Harristan sighs. โI feel rather certain weโve passed nine minutes.โ โItโs hardly been eight and a half,โ I say. I really have no idea.
Quint makes a note on his papers. โI do still need to address the matter of pardon requests weโve received this morning.โ
Harristan waves a hand. โYouโre done, Quint. Dra๎ย the usual response.โ โButโโ
โOut.โ
โIโll just leave them with you, then.โ Quint shoves most of the paperwork he was carrying toward the center of the table, then turns for the door.
โWait!โ says Harristan. โLeave what with me?โ
I lean forward and take the top piece of paper from the pile. Itโs scribbled and unsigned, but requests can be made at the palace gates by any citizen.
 |
I skip to the next one.
Free the rebels from Steel City.
Iย ip through a few more. Some are hastily written, some are more eloquent, but they all beg for the same thing.
โPardon requests,โ I say hollowly. We always get a fewโbut never to this extent.
โHow many are there?โ says Harristan.
Quint hovers by the doorway. โOne hundred eighty-seven.โ
I set down the letters and look at my brother. โAs I said. A spectacle.โ โOne is from Consul Cherry,โ says Quint.
๎ขat gets Harristanโs attention. โArella?โ he says. โI thought the smugglers were captured in Steel City.โย ๎ขatโsย rmly Leander Cra๎โs territory, while
Arella speaks for Sunkeep, far in the south.
โ๎ขey were.โ I push aside the thinner parchments and scribbled pleas until I get to the folios at the bottom. Arellaโs is black leather, the cover stamped with Sunkeepโs sigil in gold: half a sun descending into a rolling sea.
To His Royal Majesty, the Esteemed King Harristan,
I write to you in regard to the men and women imprisoned on charges of smuggling and illegal trade.
While I recognize that true crime deserves punishment, these men and women are not criminals.
They are acting out of desperation to help their families during a time of need. I humbly request that you might ๏ฌnd it in your heart to pardon them.
We of Sunkeep are willing to welcome them into our territory if you will grant clemency.
Yours in service, Consul Arella Cherry
I read it out loud, and Harristan looks at Quint. โYou dragged me through twenty minutes of nonsense when this was sitting on the table?โ
My brotherโs voice could cut steel, but Quint doesnโtย inch. If anything, he looks somewhat incredulous. โI brought a dayโs worth of issues to you and attempted toย t them into nine minutes. As per your request.โ
Harristan swipes the leather folio out of my hands, but heโs still glaring at Quint. โI gave youย ten.โ
Quint opens his mouth to argue, but I have no desire to see him as the ninth victim today, so I say, โDid Leander issue a request?โ
โNo,โ says Quint.
Harristan scans the letter I just read, then snaps it shut and looks back at the Palace Master. โAnyone else of importance? Or were you going to tell me
tomorrow?โ
โ๎ขe usual elites from the Royal Sector,โ Quint says.ย ๎ขere are a few families who request a pardon for every captive.ย ๎ขeyโre always denied, but they always ask.
Quint glances at the pile. โA few others are from inย uential families. Many requests came from the Wilds. No other consuls.โ
I look at the folio in Harristanโs hands. Iโm surprised Arella submitted her request this way, instead of coming to speak with me directly. โIs Arella still here?โ I say.
โShe le๎ย at dawn,โ says Quint. He pauses. โShe and Roydan shared a carriage.โ
Harristan goes still at this news. A๎er a moment, he says, โ๎ขatโs enough, Quint.โ He sets the folio on the table.
โYour Majesty.โ Quint o๏ฌers a quick bow, then escapes the tension of the room.
We sit in the silence for a long moment, until Harristan eventually eases into the chair across from me. He picks up one of the pardon requests, reads it, gently sets it aside.ย ๎ขen another.ย ๎ขen another.
I wait.
He reads them all.
Heโs been theย erce king for so long now that I sometimes forget how he was when he was the beloved crown prince, the boy who was sheltered and coddled and doted upon. I remember he once told me he was glad that Father took me along for hunting trips, because heโd go pale at the sight of blood, and he hated the idea of putting an arrowhead into a living creature.
When heย nally looks up, I see a glimpse of that boy in his eyes.
I lean in against the table. โAllisander was already going to raise his prices before this happened. You have nearly two hundred pardon requests sitting here, but I imagine youโd have three times as many decrying their crimes.โ
He holds my gaze. โArella requested a pardon for smugglers on the same day Allisander claimed his supply chain is being attacked. He wonโt be happy. It pits her against him.โ
I snort. โWhoโs not against Allisander?โ โYou,โ he says.
I lose any shred of humor. โOnly in public.โ I frown. โAnd you well know that.โ
โInย publicย is all that matters.โ He pauses. โIt likely pits her against Lissa Marpetta, too. Iย nd it interesting that she shared a carriage with Roydan.โ
Roydan Pelham. Some at court might think the old man was a๎er Arella because sheโs young, cultured, and beautiful, but Iโve known Roydan my entire life, and no one is more devoted to his wife than he is. Heโs also played court politics for so long that he wouldnโt be seen climbing into a carriage with Arella unless it meant something. โ๎ขeir sectors border one another.โ
โExactly.โ He pauses. โItโs a risk to stand against Allisander. Especially now.โ
โArellaโs people have always fared the best against the fevers,โ I say. โMaybe she feels like she has less to lose.โ
Harristan runs a hand across his face. He wants to pardon the prisoners. I can see it in the set of his jaw. I donโt know what about them has drawn his sympathy, whether itโs the number of captives, or the quantity of requests we received, or if itโs simply that heโs as tired of violence and treachery as I am, and he longs to be kind to someone. Anyone.
Kindness killed our parents.
Harristan coughs behind his hand, and my attention sharpens. I go stock- still.
His breathing soundsย ne. His color is good. Heโsย ne.
I think it again, more emphatically, as if I can will it to be true.ย Heโsย ne. โIf they go free,โ I say slowly, โAllisander will see it as the Crown taking a
stand against him, too.โย Again, I think. โWe arenโt just talking about a๏ฌecting the supply to the palace, Harristan.โ
โI know.โ
โWeโre talking about the entire Royal Sector. Weโre talking about all of Kandala.โ
โIย know.โ
โWe canโt side with criminals,โ I say. โ๎ขis is theย rst time weโve seen a larger group attempt to organize. If weโre lenient, it will lead to more raids, to more the๎s, to moreโโ
โCory.โ His voice is quiet. โI know.โ
I say nothing. Weโre in agreement, then. Weโve come to anย understanding.
I sigh. So does he.
My brother pulls his pocket watch free. โWeโre two hours from midday.
You never did tell me how youโre going to do it.โ
My thoughts turn dark, a black cloak already dropping across my mind to stave o๏ฌย any emotion. I do what needs to be done.
โWait and see.โ
