Page 250 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

Sabran held up her arm. The rock dove hopped off it and fluttered away.

“Sab.”

She looked at him.

“Crest told me something,” Loth said. “About . . . why she arranged for your mother to die.”

“Say it.”

Loth let her have a moment without the knowledge. He tried not to think of how Crest had looked throughout the questioning. Her disdainful gaze, her brazen lack of remorse.

“She told me that the Queen Mother committed adultery with a privateer. Captain Gian Harlowe.” He hesitated. “The affair began the year before she became pregnant with you.”

Sabran closed the doors to the balcony and took the seat at the head of the table.

“So,” she said, “I may be a bastard.”

“Crest thought so. That was why she took such a great role in your upbringing. She wanted to mold you into a more virtuous queen.”

“A moreobedientqueen. A manikin,” Sabran said curtly, “to be manipulated.”

“Prince Wilstan may have been your father.” Loth placed a hand over hers. “The affair with Harlowe might not even have existed. Crest is clearly not in her right mind.”

Sabran shook her head. “Part of me has always known. Mother and Father were loving in public, but cold in private.” She pressed his hand. “Thank you for telling me, Loth.”

“Aye.”

She reached in silence for her swan-feather quill. Loth kneaded the stiffness from his neck and continued with his work.

It was peaceful to be alone with her. He found himself glancing at his childhood friend, wondering.

Had Sabran been in love with Lievelyn and turned to Ead for comfort after his death? Or had her marriage to Lievelyn been one of convenience, and it was Ead who was the root of her heart? Perhaps the truth was somewhere between.

“I have a mind,” Sabran said, “to make Roslain the new Duchess of Justice. She is heir apparent.”

“Is that wise?” When she only continued writing, Loth said, “I have been a friend to Roslain for many years. I know her devotion to you—but can we be sure her part in this was innocent?”

“Combe is as convinced as he can be that she acted only to save my life. Her broken fingers are evidence of her loyalty.” She dipped her quill in the inkhorn again. “Her grandmother will lose her head. Ead may have counseled for mercy in the past, but too much of it makes a fool.”

Footsteps approached from outside the chamber. Sabran tensed as they heard the clash of partizans.

“Who goes there?” she called.

“The Lady Chancellor, Your Majesty,” came the answer.

She relaxed a little. “Send her in.”

Lady Nelda Stillwater walked into the Council Chamber, wearing the ruby chain of her office.

“Your Grace,” Sabran said.

“Majesty. Lord Arteloth.” The Duchess of Courage curtsied. “I have just now been released from the Dearn Tower. I wanted to come in person to tell you of my anger that a fellow duchess would rise against you.” Her face was tight. “You have always had my loyalty.”

Sabran gave a gracious nod. “I thank you, Nelda, and am very glad to see you released.”

“On behalf of my son and granddaughter, I must also beg mercy for Lady Roslain. She has never spoken a word of treason against you in my presence, and I cannot think that she ever meant you harm.”

“Be assured that Lady Roslain will be judged fairly.”

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