Blackveil

“As I’ve said, my lord,” Colin replied, and Estora could tell that even implacable Colin was straining to remain civil, “the marriage ceremony and consummation were properly observed and witnessed. Those witnesses will be brought before you in due time.”

“There is one witness I should like to hear from,” said Lord Adolind, “but he has yet to make an appearance. Just how serious was this riding accident of his?”

“Yes,” Lord D’Ivary chimed in. “It has the stench of a deathbed wedding. What aren’t you telling us?”

Colin was getting red in the face. “You dare insult the queen with such speculation?”

“Is she truly the queen?” Penburn asked very quietly.

Estora stood. “Enough.”

The five and their aides silenced immediately and craned their necks to look up at her.

“Colin has explained the situation plainly,” she said. “The king is attending to urgent matters of state with his military advisors.” It was partly true, anyway. He’d had briefings from most of his military chiefs over the last couple days. “He will come before you when he is ready.” Which, she hoped, would be soon. He was improving each day. They had been unable, however, to complete the conversation begun after they’d given Richmont into Beryl’s hands. Zachary was either sleeping, or too busy catching up on the news of the realm, and constantly surrounded by others. She slept alone in her own chamber.

“While I should like to see the king and hear it all from him myself,” said an unchastened Lord Penburn, a sly glint in his eye, “I’d also like to know where Captain Mapstone is. There have been some rather strange rumors circulating.”

Estora could only imagine. She knew Lord Penburn took especial interest in Captain Mapstone because she was from Penburn Province, and her closeness to the king exalted her status with the lord-governor as one of his own people who had influence with the king. Estora had suggested the captain’s release from house arrest. Colin and Harborough demurred, preferring to move slowly, probably so they could prop up their own positions in the advent of Zachary’s royal fury.

Zachary had also asked for the captain, and had been put off, told that she was ill, but recovering rapidly. Estora did not think prolonging the charade and lying to Zachary was going to help their causes any, and she decided if they wished to hang themselves, that was their business. She then ordered that the captain be released, but it appeared someone had delayed that order, something she would rectify just as soon as she finished here.

“The captain is—” Colin began, but he did not have a chance to finish his statement. The side entrance to the throne room creaked open and in walked two Weapons, Master Destarion, and Zachary’s secretary, Cummings, followed by—much to Estora’s surprise—Zachary himself.

The lord-governors immediately dropped to their knees and bowed their heads. Zachary ignored them. Dressed simply in black, he walked over to the dais, his gait a little slow, and his face pale, but it was really him. He mounted the steps. Estora saw what the effort cost him, the exhaustion, but he did it all without help. When he reached the top, he gave her a long indecipherable look, and they both sat.

“What Counselor Dovekey was about to tell you,” Zachary said, his voice strong and sure, “is that Captain Mapstone is in the mending wing.”

Colin blanched, and Estora gave Zachary a sideways look. There was an upturn to the edge of his mouth, a cant to his eyebrow.

Lord Penburn appeared alarmed. “Is she well, Your Highness?”

“I am to understand she is very well.”

The lord-governors glanced at one another. Where once they’d been unafraid to voice their questions, they no longer seemed to know what to say.

“It is good to see you, Majesty,” Lord L’Petrie finally said. “We’d wondered about your welfare. There’d been all manner of stories, and then the marriage.”

“You see me before you now,” Zachary said, “and I am no ghost. After my riding accident, it seemed prudent to move the ceremony up in case something more serious happened before I had the chance to take the lady as my queen.”

Estora exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. He was sticking with their story. He all but proclaimed the marriage valid.

“I assume,” Zachary continued, “you’re all just disappointed to have missed the feasting and festivities.” The lord-governors chuckled. “Not to worry, we shall feast on the original wedding date, for we do wish to celebrate with our family and friends. Do we not, my dearest?”

Estora jumped when he addressed her. He’d never addressed her as other than “my lady” before. Was he mocking her? But his expression was serious. She swallowed. “Of course.”

“It is a great relief all is well,” Lord Adolind said. “And I congratulate you and your bride on your union. It will only strengthen the realm.”

“Hear, hear,” said the others.

“I know you have many questions,” Zachary said, “and much needs to be discussed about what is happening with Second Empire and Blackveil. For now, however, I must confer in private with my wife and advisors.”

Dismissed, the lord-governors bowed their way out of the throne room. When they were gone and the doors shut, Zachary slumped in his chair.

“Your Highness!” Colin cried. “You’ve exerted yourself far too much.”