Broken Veil (Harbinger #5)(15)

Sera had prepared herself for harsh words. She’d known this wouldn’t be easy. But even still, his words hacked at her like swords.

“How dare you speak to Her Highness in such a way,” said Allanom Scott, rising from his chair, his voice throbbing with outrage. His eyes were full of accusation.

“What is to become of me?” Welles demanded, raging still. He looked at the others in the room, loathing evident on his face. “Am I to be made a martyr to the cause of sanctimoniousness? What if she uncovers your sins next? Hmmm? Yes, I accused her. Yes, I was a hypocrite! But are we not all so? And in this time of bloody and violent war, you would cast down one who has given his blood, sweat, and breath to preserve this empire? After all I have done?”

“Yes,” said Lord Halifax implacably. “Because you knew better, Richard. How many officers have you demoted or discharged for the crime of adultery? How many courts-martial have you presided over while your own conscience surely seared you? Would it not make the empire howl with outrage if you were pardoned while they were made to suffer?”

“I didn’t know she was a hetaera!” Welles pleaded.

“We suspected that,” said Lord Prentice. “We know it for sure now that you’ve said it while touching the Leering. Otherwise, you’d be facing a more serious judgment.”

Sera removed her hand from the Leering, and the power binding him fell away. Welles’s shoulders sagged as he pulled his shaky hand away from the stone.

“Mr. Durrant wasn’t trying to preach to you,” Sera said. “He was trying to help you see why we were doing this. In the middle of a war. In a time when we need you most. To prove to you, as well as to our ancestors, that we prize integrity above all. We will not part from it, no matter what the cost. To us . . . or to you. And what you’ve done has injured the empire deeply and cost people their lives.”

Sera took in a deep breath. “Richard Foulton Welles, you are hereby stripped of your lands and titles. Your businesses will be forfeit to the crown. You are stripped of your admiral’s pension forthwith.”

She watched him flinch with each pronouncement. There was no feeling of animosity toward him. In fact, she pitied the man.

“Because of your age and the unlikelihood that you will find suitable work, you will be granted a midshipman’s pension. You are hereby banished from Lockhaven and from owning or piloting a sky ship. News of your disgrace will be published in the gazettes tomorrow morning.”

“Please,” Welles said, trembling, his eyes watering. “Can you not . . . ?” His words choked off. Then he stopped. Whatever he would have pleaded for, he fell silent. He hung his head in misery. The look he gave her, she would never forget it. He’d aged a dozen years during the brief interview. She watched him leave, beaten and disgraced, and took no pleasure from it.

After the door shut, she turned to Mr. Durrant. “Prime Minister, I’d like officers to escort him from Lockhaven and ensure he does no harm to himself. Also, have someone keep watch on him for the next few months. Our enemies may attempt to win his allegiance.”

“As you’ve commanded, so it will be done,” Durrant said, nodding. “Well, gentlemen. Thank you for joining us this evening. We will announce our decision at the privy council meeting at sunrise.”

The other lords rose from their seats, looking weary and haggard. Sera thought Lord Prentice also looked a little guilty.

Allanom Scott approached her and clasped her hand. “Nearly all men can withstand adversity,” he said with a sniff. “But if you want to test a man’s character, give him power. Perhaps that is why we need more women to rule over us.”

“Will he be all right, do you think?” Sera asked.

Allanom sighed. “He has nothing left to lose. That will either make him meek . . . or depraved. I will look in on him in a few weeks. See which direction he may be leaning. With your permission, of course?”

“You have it,” Sera said with admiration. She knew the man did not care much for Welles—his request sprang from a genuine wish to help guide the other man toward virtue. “Good night.”

He followed the others out of the chamber, leaving her alone with Mr. Durrant.

“Well done, Sera,” he said, dropping into his seat at the council table. His shoulders drooped as well.

“We could have humiliated him in front of the entire privy council,” Sera said.

Durrant nodded wearily. “I think this was the most appropriate, given the circumstances.”

“With his fall, there is now an opening in the peerage,” Sera continued. She gave him a meaningful look.

“What?” he said with a chuckle. “Lord Durrant?”

“I think you have more than earned it,” Sera continued. “I would like you to draft up the papers.”

His lips pressed together, and he drummed his fingers on the table. “I must obey you in all things, Sera, save this.” He shook his head no. “I will not be made a noble. By you or anyone.” A sly smile crossed his mouth. “It would ruin my reputation with the masses.”

“You’re serious?”

“Quite. Although I appreciate the gesture. And while I am exhausted, I’m not addled. I thought you might attempt something like this. I had a little speech prepared, but I find I can’t recall it at the moment. I’ll look it up when I get home and recite it to you in the morning.”