Page 123 of A Thieving Curse

“And?” one of the lords prodded.

“And Alexander never lies.” She reached into her belt and withdrew the love charm. Tristan inhaled sharply as she held it out on her shaking palm. “I can prove that King Henry cursed Alexander. This is a talisman King Henry bought from the same witch when he acquired the curse he used on Alexander.” Alex’s eyes bulged. “It’s a love spell the king gave to Prince Tristan to use on me.”

“What?” Gareth shouted.

“You heartless wretch!” Alex’s chains clanked loudly as he stepped forward.

“Princess,” Tristan hissed.

Raelyn glanced at him. “He chose not to use it when he had the chance. Instead, he gave it to me, to do with as I wished. For that I am grateful.” She looked back at the lords. “But its existence proves—”

“That Tallon has pulled you into his schemes,” Henry said coldly. “Sit down, Princess Raelyn, before you do irreparable damage to the relationship between our kingdoms.”

Her face burned as she clutched the stone and sat back down. The lords stared in stunned silence.

“Is this true, Prince Tristan?” Father’s voice echoed in the hall.

Tristan gripped the arms of his chair and continued to stare straight ahead. “Of course not.” A muscle in his forehead twitched. “My father never consulted a witch, owns no magic objects, and gave me no such stone.” His lies pummeled Raelyn, crushing her. She had been foolish to hope he would be as honest as he had been when they were alone.

“If you’re in love with Prince Alexander,” the barrel-chested lord asked, “what are you doing next to Prince Tristan?”

Raelyn rubbed the engraving on the stone as she steadied herself. “I love Prince Alexander. But I love Eynlae first. I love peace.” She met Alex’s eyes apologetically. “I will marry Prince Tristan and be his faithful wife if that is what is required of me by my people and my king.”

Alex nodded, although he appeared disheartened.

“Well,” Henry drawled. “There is also the matter of Prince Gareth of Eynlae, who threatened and assaulted Prince Tristan.”

Raelyn paled. What if she had endangered Gareth by speaking out?

“For his acts of aggression,” Henry said, “I motion the boy be flogged—”

“The crime was against me.” Tristan shoved to his feet and looked over at Gareth. “You believed you were acting in Princess Raelyn’s best interests. Accordingly, I grant you mercy. I rescind all charges.” He nodded at Raelyn as he sat back down.

Raelyn leaned against the back of her throne as relief surged. Most likely Gareth’s pardon was calculated—an act of diplomacy between two kingdoms on edge, a show of clemency for the lords, and a way for Tristan to win her goodwill. The reason didn’t matter, so long as her brother was safe.

“I suppose that is…settled.” Henry cleared his throat, and Raelyn wondered with confusion if the pardon hadn’t been Henry’s plan at all. “Returning to the petitioner, the self-identified Alexander Tallon. My lords, I ask that for slandering the name of the king, taking captive the future queen of Rethalyon—and drawing her into his manipulative lies—threatening the life of the crown prince of Rethalyon, and claiming to be royalty without proof, this man be executed.”

Raelyn had known it was coming, but she still wasn’t prepared. She bit her tongue as tears welled in her eyes, and she sagged forward.Please. Please, no.

The steward moved from his place in the corner and stood in front of the daises, near Alexander. “Lords of this esteemed Court, please say your votes. If you agree with His Excellency the king, say yea.”

A lord with graying hair stood. “No proof? Anyone can see he is King Philip and Queen Kendra’s son. He has done nothing to deserve execution. Nay.” He sat back down.

The man with the black braid stood. “Prince Alexander and Princess Raelyn are more convincing than you, Henry Carbrey.” The lords gasped as the man left off the title of king. “I have always doubted your story. Nay.” He sat down and crossed his arms.

The lord who had first asked for Raelyn to speak stood. “If the princess trusts Prince Alexander after everything, that is enough for me. Nay.”

One after another, the lords declared nay. Not one yea. Raelyn gripped the arms of the throne, her knuckles white.

“You believe them?” Henry demanded.

“Your only defense is that they lied,” a reedy lord said. “They have thorough reasons and evidence and don’t sound like liars.”

“The princess would be a fool to lie,” the barrel-chested lord boomed. “I believe her.”

Alex nodded at Raelyn, as if to tell her not to worry. But Henry could deny his lords. He could order Alexander killed, and the lords would have to make a choice if they would follow their current king or their last king’s son. A civil war could erupt in the room.

Or they could give in, congratulate themselves for trying, and claim an aversion to war as an excuse for letting Alex die.

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