EYES THAT KNEW

I am not a queen because I rule, I rule because I am THE QUEEN.

Birthed in my heart. Alive in my veins…

*******************

For the first time in his twenty eight years of living, Prince Commander Zorgan was confined to a solitary cell within the palace.

At the stroke of midnight, he awoke with a groan. Two soldiers stood watch outside and a maid sat nearby, her presence a silent vigil.

‘‘Do you require anything My Lord?’’ She inquired upon noticing his awakening.

He scoffed inwardly, recognizing the Queen’s gesture as a hollow attempt at compassion.

‘‘Bottles of liquor, as many as you can carry,’’ he replied knowing what awaited him by dawn.

Though she found his request most unusual, the maid complied without delay.

At daybreak, when all had recovered from the long night, Zorgan was escorted to the Royal Scourge Sanctum – a court reserved for the judgement of nobles and Royals.

Noble men and women were gathered, as well as the Royals the physicians had permitted to leave their beds. They all just wanted to see him in pain.

He was aware of everything that was being said and the witnesses that concurred. His rage still burned – fuelled not by only drink, but by the bitter truth that he had fallen short of his purpose at the Palace.

Queen Maeve ordered that he be whipped for the disruption he had created and the scene he had caused.

As the whip cracked against his skin repeatedly, he did not flinch away from her gaze. Nor did she turn away from his. Her fingers, laced lightly, bore the pain she would never voice.

It tore at her, watching her son suffer. But she had no choice- not if she wanted to keep the loyalty of the other Royals and the stability of the Crown on her head. She had already shown too much mercy by sparing him a night at the Infernal Keep.

‘No..no this doesn’t make sense. That girl- she’s responsible.

How did she remember? Was it a mistake? The wrong one, perhaps.

I’ll need confirmation- someone else will have to be used’ Queen Maeve thought.

Most onlookers approved of the sentence. This was the first time the Kingdom’s golden son had aced disgrace. Until now he had been a paragon – untouched by scandal, admired by all.

As the lashes struck his back through the tatters of his shirt, a herald’s voice suddenly rang out, announcing the arrival of a royal.

All but Zorgan- who was in the middle of the room and was facing the Queen’s seat- turned toward the entrance to behold the intruder bold enough to arrive at such a scandalous hour. Surely, the Queen’s wrath would follow.

Yet before the herald could finish, the person entered mid-announcement and unapologetic.

‘‘By the will of the crown, the wife to Prince Commander Zorgan, Princess Nadezh-”

Gasps rippled through the hall, not just by her actions but by her visage. Her hair was wild and they could tell she had ridden, not in a carriage like a proper Royal but on a horse, like an escaping thief. Dorian Steelheart and another soldier stepped briskly behind her.

She was trying to settle her breathing, hands folded and eyes judging.

Her eyes found Zorgan in the middle of the hall, arms apart and tied for all to see with streaks of blood at the back of his shirt. Her gums itched.

Then they trailed to the hand of the one holding the whip.

She took a step forward when one of the princes who had faced Zorgan’s wrath stood up. He was mad that she had somehow remembered- which was considered an impossible feat- and madder, that it was because of her he was nursing a broken arm.

‘‘How dare you present yourself before the Queen in such disgraceful fashion?’’ he demanded, his eyes alight with his anger.

She turned and fixed him with a long, deliberate stare. Then in a voice laced with disdain, she said,

‘‘From the sight of you, I can surmise you aren’t the Queen – nor anything remotely worthy of the title. So I see no reason to grant you the courtesy of address.’’

Her gaze dropped to his arm- slung stiffly across his chest in that telltale fashion of one freshly splintered and bound- and a lopsided smirk tugged at her lips.

The prince flushed crimson, his fury so palpable he looked liable to burst a vessel. But Nadezhda only gave a curt, mocking bow and turned her back on him without hesitation.

Even in his wounded state, Zorgan couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. Some things, he mused, might never change – his wife’s tongue, chief among them.

He couldn’t help but wonder how and why she was present.

With her chin high and her posture proud, Nadezhda strode toward the Queen, though her every step thrummed with the ache of pain and fury she refused to show.

She bowed.

‘‘Your Majesty, I seek forgiveness for my abrupt appearance. I must speak- for the ruling passed today is a misjudgement. The blame is mine to carry, not his-”

Zorgan lifted his head to counter her assertion, his movement slow and his words slurred.

‘‘Nah… it isn’t yours… it’s mine… I-I’m th’ one… to b-blame… I’ll take wh- what’s left… go… home Nadezhda…’’

Nadezhda covered her face, her fingers trembling slightly before she took brisk steps toward Zorgan.

Rising on her toes, she cupped his face, her voice breaking with emotion.

“Oh my beloved husband’’ she wailed, catching everyone off guard- including Zorgan himself.

Still elevated, she leaned in, kissed his cheek with deceptive tenderness – turning Zorgan red in the process- and hissed in his ear, ‘‘Say another word and I swear I’ll take that whip myself and split you into equal halves’’

She lowered herself back to the ground, met Zorgan’s questioning dimmed eyes and turned to Queen Maeve.

Rolling up her sleeve, she revealed her forearm.

‘‘Mother, I was attacked and poisoned in my own home a few days ago.

As I fought for breath and sanity, I was told my mind betrayed me, filling my lips with lies and fantasy.

Even yesterday, as the venom still raged in me, they say I said many things- some of which my husband, a man exhausted from a war most men dared not face-” she said, her gaze flicking to the princes around the room.

‘‘-believed to be true. He did not rest- his loyalty to the realm overpowered his need for recovery.

Please have mercy on him, for in valuing this kingdom so deeply, he took the words in my fevered state to heart’’

She sealed her words with a slow, deliberate bow.

There were whispers around but Nadezhda still didn’t rise. Queen Maeve gripped the eagle-shaped ends of the throne’s armrests, and the room fell into silence.

‘‘Princess Nadezhda, can any living eye stand to what you now profess?’’ Queen Maeve asked.

A slow smile bloomed on Evadne’s face, sharp with satisfaction as Nadezhda stayed bowed.

But Nadezhda straightened.

‘‘Indeed, Your Highness.

There was a soldier with me when I was attacked. He saved my life and was among those who stayed as I struggled to heal. He knows the truth’’

The soldier beside Dorian stepped forward with the Queen’s permission and confirmed all the words Nadezhda had just spoken.

In pursuit of truth without shadow of bias, Queen Maeve summoned a nobleman-physician from among the court. With practiced eyes, he examined Nadezhda’s wound, and solemnly declared it bore the mark of poison.

‘‘Your actions Prince Commander Zorgan, while hasty, were not without reason.

You have known the weight of a cell, felt the sting of correction, and this has settled the unrest you caused. You are released and this matter is laid to rest’’

Queen Maeve stood up before the mouthing could begin and Nadezhda bowed one more time in gratitude.

Then her gaze settled on Nadezhda. The mask Nadezhda had worn was gone, stripped away, and the Queen met the steel behind those grey eyes.

Eyes that judged.

Eyes that knew.

Nadezhda stared at her like one who had plans on uncovering every hidden deed- and was ready to drag them into daylight.

Queen Maeve stepped down the stairs, unshaken.

‘‘You have my attention now little girl. And you have no idea who you’ve chosen to provoke.’’