The Cogsmith's Daughter (Desertera #1)(91)

Aya touched the barrette still clipped in her hair. The jewels felt cold against her fingertips.

“Lionel, your mother was sick.” King Archon’s lips quivered. “She killed herself because she was unhappy. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

“It was your fault,” Lionel hissed. “You flirted with every woman within reach. You made Mother feel unloved. She killed herself because of you. You murdered her.”

King Archon stood, smacking his hand against the table, making Aya and the rest of the courtroom jump. “I loved your mother. I have regretted the way I treated her every day since she died. Blame me if you must, but never say I did not love her.”

A tear dripped down King Archon’s face. Aya stared at him with wide eyes, feeling as if she saw him for the first time. The courtroom had fallen completely silent. Prince Lionel gaped at his father, mouth slightly open, before turning away and shaking his head. “But after Mother, Father. What about the others?”

King Archon pursed his lips and lowered himself to his chair.

“For argument’s sake, let’s say you didn’t kill my mother.” Prince Lionel’s brow furrowed. His hazel eyes squinted. Aya could tell that Lionel had not expected his speech to take this turn and was floundering to get the trial back on track. “Still, you trapped wife after wife into adultery. You manipulated them into marriage then cast them aside the moment you grew bored. That is still treason and orchestrated execution. Murder.” The prince paused, gazing out into the crowd of nobles. “But my father’s tyranny does not stop there.”

Prince Lionel moved to stand over Aya. He reached down and placed his hand over hers. She met his eyes and saw tears glistening in them.

“When I was fifteen years old, I let my father manipulate me into his crimes. At his urging, I ordered Master Cogsmith to be tried for treason, simply because he did not have the tools necessary to fix my pet bird. At the trial, my father did not let Master Cogsmith say a single word in his defense. He had an innocent man executed and destroyed Aya’s life out of his own greed and pride. What kind of ruler does that? What kind of son lets his father do that?”

The prince gave Aya’s hand a squeeze before walking back to his throne. Aya watched his back as he went. His shoulders slumped, and his head hung. She did not know what she should feel at Prince Lionel’s confession—anger, justice, gratitude? The nobles finally knew the truth about her father. The prince had finally showed remorse for what he had done. But all Aya felt was sadness balled up in the pit of her stomach.

Prince Lionel plopped down onto the throne, pulling off his top hat and placing it in his lap. “I’m sorry I never said anything before today. I was too afraid. When the king was the judge of law and upholder of morality and my own father, how could I have spoken against him? Especially when I knew what he was capable of? But today, the council voted to give me the power, so I have had my say.”

He motioned for Queen Zedara to stand. She did.

“Queen Zedara, you are the main accuser, so I give you the recommendation of punishment. What do you believe is just?”

Aya held her breath, too afraid to look at the queen, let alone breathe. Queen Zedara was in league with Lord Varick, and as far as Aya knew, Zedara had no idea that Lord Varick planned to betray her. If she kept this alliance, she would recommend Aya’s death. However, Queen Zedara had obviously conspired with Prince Lionel—her stepson—as well and appeared to be on his side throughout this trial. If she were truly loyal to him, maybe she would spare Aya.

“As for King Archon,” Queen Zedara began, “I recommend he be freed of adultery.”

Aya saw the king smile from the corner of her vision, his eyes now dry.

“But given your and Miss Cogsmith’s testimonies, Your Highness, I recommend he be sentenced to execution for the full nine counts of conspiracy to commit murder against his most recent wives, myself included, and eleven counts of treason, for his crimes against ten innocent queens and one innocent tradesman.”

King Archon moved to stand, but two guards restrained him and bound his mouth with a cloth gag.

“As for Miss Cogsmith…” Queen Zedara took a deep breath. “I recommend her freedom. I believe we nobles have punished her enough with our politics.”

Aya began to cry, her entire body rocking with the force of her sobs. Waves of relief—and of shame for doubting her friend—washed over her. She could not form words, but she looked at Queen Zedara and mouthed, “Thank you.”

The queen walked over and knelt before Aya, wrapping her arms around her waist. Aya bent down over Zedara and hugged her back as hard as she could. She knew there was noise in the background—the king’s muffled protests, the nobles’ incessant chatter, the echoes of both bouncing off the metal walls—but it all seemed muted behind the veil of Zedara’s blond hair.

“I can’t believe…” Aya gulped, shaking her head. “I thought you were on Varick’s side. I thought you were going to have me—I’m so sorry for doubting you.”

“Aya, you have nothing to apologize for.” Zedara wiped at her own tears. “I’m sorry for putting you through this. Lord Varick was watching behind the bookcase. I had to act as if I had betrayed you, or I knew he would come after us both.”

“I understand. I—I forgive you.” Aya took a quavery breath. “But you should know, Lord Varick, he—he was planning to kill you anyway.”