Page 11 of The Empty Throne

Down in the dining room, however, her motherwasn't there. She must be bedridden. "Where is Her Ladyship?"

"In bed. She requested you come and see herafter you had breakfast."

"Very well." Fighting the urge to simplyabandon breakfast and go straight up, Oskia sat at the placealready laid out for her. A servant arrived just moments later witha full breakfast: a bowl of rice, smoked fish that had been quicklygrilled before serving, a bowl of soup made from fermentedsoybeans, steamed spinach, and a fluffy, savory-sweet omelet. Allof it accompanied by a smooth green tea flavored with jasmine.

It was the kind of meal that saidhome, and made her sad all over again. In the city, shespent most of her time at the palace with Sobeki and Kite, eatingwhatever the royal kitchens served, which varied wildly from localcuisine to popular foreign dishes They served homier dishes onoccasion, but they were never as good as the ones here. Ornostalgia just made her heavily biased.

When she was finished, she thanked theservants and headed off through the house, up the stairs that stillcreaked in the same place, past the paintings of long-deadancestors that had never moved from their spots, petting the headof the owl statue on the first landing, worn smooth and shiny bydecades of people doing the same.

On the second floor, she turned left andheaded down the hall to the master suite at the end. She knocked onthe door and opened it after waiting a moment.

Inside, the room was dark, save for theroaring fire that did not entirely manage to beat back the cold,only mellow it some. Her mother sat in the enormous bed she'd onceshared with her husband, dead now these past ten years, killed in astupid hunting accident that never would have happened if he andhis so-called friends hadn't insisted on doing it drunk.

"Oskia," her mother said. "I'm so sorry, mydear. I never meant for this to happen."

Oskia crossed the enormous room—and stopped,nearly screaming, as she finally got a good look at her mother.

Her hair was gone. Her skin had lost all itscolor, ashen and pale, like she was already a corpse. Her head andhands were discolored, covered in lesions and sores, the tips ofher fingers almost looking rotted, the nails strangely distorted."Mother, what in Shatar's name—!"

"Sit down, my darling," her mother saidquietly, voice thin and scratchy. "I'm glad you made it; I do notthink I'll live much longer. I am sorry. You deserved betterparents than you got. I'm glad you turned out so beautifullydespite our failings. You will be a good matriarch."

"You should still be our matriarch!" Oskiasaid, fighting tears. "Whathappened." She reached out totake her mother's hand.

"No," her mother said sharply. "Do not touchme. I do not even like you too close to me. I wasn't meant to getsick too, but I did anyway somehow. I won't let the same happen toyou. When I die, see I am burned, so no one and nothing else ispoisoned by me. Understand?"

"I understand," Oskia said, voicehitching.

"As to what happened, I think you havealready guessed. You were always too smart for your own good."

The tears finally broke free, running downher cheeks to get lost in the fur at her neck. "You killed theroyal family. Why, Mother?"

"The table there."

"What?" When her mother repeated the words,Oskia rose and went to the indicated table, sitting to read thevoluminous stack of papers set before her—mostly correspondence,but also drafts of contracts, constructions plans, and other bitsof paperwork.

By the time she finished reading it all, shewas shaking with anger. She turned to her mother—and the paperworkslipped free as she realized her mother had fallen asleep, but didnot look well or restful at all.

No, she very much looked like she would notbe waking up again. "Mama, no!" Oskia rushed over to the bed, angermomentarily forgotten, and reached for her mother's hand beforeremembering the sharp admonition not to touch her.

She started crying again, sitting by the bedlistening as her mother's breathing grew increasingly strained, asshe moaned and whimpered in her sleep.

As she drew her last, rattling breath, andthen breathed no more. Fighting sobs, Oskia sat with her mother alast few minutes, then went to see to the grim duty of disposing ofthe body. Her mother was gone. What remained was an empty shell.Time to act like the new Matriarch of the House of Beltres.

Oh, Shatar. Her siblings. She would have tocontact Vanna and Borren at school and tell them. Messengers, shewould send special messengers to tell them, rather than force themto learn it through dry, heartless text. Something to arrange whenshe was back at the palace.

She stood aside as servants filed in to paytheir respects one by one, ending with the chatelaine and threefootmen who wrapped her in the blankets she'd died in, put the bodyon a stretcher, and carried her away.

Oskia lingered to wash her face and fix herhair into something nicer, then returned to her room to pull onsuitable boots and grab a cloak and gloves. She swapped her gauzefor the lenses and finally headed out.

Beyond the backside of the manor was a fieldwhere servants had clearly spent days preparing a pyre and ensuringthere would be access to it at all times, erecting coverage for awalkway, casting down salt to keep a large circle free of snow,with braziers all around to further help… and in the middle of thecircle was the pyre. The smell of the lighting fluid was pungent,drowning out the far sweeter smell of the dried wood meticulouslyarranged to burn strong for hours.

Once the body had been laid and the firesset, Oskia sang the song of mourning, a prayer and pleas thatShatar carry her mother away to join her in the Court of theEndless Seas Beneath Eternal Starlight. Normally bodies were castto the ocean, to better reach that sacred land, but this had beenher mother's final wish, and so it would be done.

Later, when her siblings could come home,they would cast the ashes into the ocean, and their mother would atlast truly rest in peace.

"Everyone inside," she said as she finishedsinging. "My mother would not want anyone to risk breathing in thetoxins that killed her." When they lingered, she turned sharply onher heel and strode back to the house, compelling the others tofollow her. Brushing off snow in the kitchen so she wouldn't trackit through the rest of the house, she said, "I will be in thestudy. Could someone please bring me the papers my mother left onthe table in her room? I'd also appreciate a pot of tea, black.Thank you."

She removed her boots at the doorway leadingfrom the kitchen to the rest of the house, gratified to see thatsomeone had already placed soft house boots there for her to changeinto. Removing her gloves and cloak, she finally headed for thestudy.

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