Page 73 of Court of Vipers (The Lady of Innislee)

He muttered something under his breath as he shuffled through the papers on the desk. Riona frowned, trying to wade through the haze of pain clouding her mind, as he lifted something to one of the candelabra’s flames. It took her a few moments to realize that he was holding the letters she had slipped into her waistband. They must have fallen out after she’d lost consciousness.

“NO!” Riona cried as he lowered the first of the papers to the fire. It ignited immediately, illuminating the harsh lines of the overseer’s face as the flames climbed the parchment. When no more than a scrap remained, he released it, letting it drift down to the desk. It crumbled to ash the second it hit the wood. “Stop!Stop!Cathal trusted you!”

He said nothing as he burned the rest of the papers. Riona thrashed, fighting her bonds, but they refused to give. When the last paper dwindled to nothing but ash, she slumped back in her chair, defeated. “How could you? Cathal was your friend.”

“And His Majesty is my king.”

“He has condemned countless people to death for a dream that will only end in more bloodshed. He cannot wield eudorite weapons against the Erdurians. It will be a slaughter.”

The overseer’s eyes narrowed. “Since when does the Rivosi royal family have any sympathy for Erduriandogs?”

Since I met Auberon.

When she said nothing, he leaned against the edge of the desk and crossed his arms. “I sent a man to Innislee to tell your uncle what has transpired. By tonight, my messenger will return with his orders. I can’t promise that you will leave this place alive.” The overseer said it nonchalantly, not a hint of remorse or sympathy in his voice. “If I were in your shoes, I would start praying that he has some mercy for you in that heart of his. Creator knows he doesn’t have any for the people he sentences to work in this damned place.”

* * *

“Why did you agree to take this post?” Riona asked sometime later. After his wound stopped bleeding, the overseer had donned a doublet of black and gold brocade and sheathed Auberon’s dagger at his hip. He was sitting at the desk, and he glanced over his shoulder at the sound of her voice. His gaze swept over her, cold and dismissive, then turned back to whatever he’d been writing.

“Don’t you realize that my uncle will never allow you to leave?” she asked, keeping her voice low and soft, trying to reason with him. “You may have a wardrobe full of finery and a bed fit for a king, but you are as much a slave as the men who work these mines. He will leave you here until you die or go mad, and then he will send another man to fill your place. Why do you give him your loyalty? Why continue to serve him after he murdered your friend?”

Without a word, the overseer rose, walked over to her, and backhanded her across the face.

Her head snapped to the side. Riona gave herself a few seconds to close her eyes, pain ricocheting around her skull, before she turned to meet his stare. “I met one of your miners on my way here. He wasn’t much older than I am, and I’m guessing he couldn’t have been here for more than a few years. He’d already been driven mad by the wind howling through the tunnels. Does the sound ever get to you? Does it haunt your dreams?”

“Silence.”

“How much longer do you have before my uncle sticks another puppet in your place? That’s all we are to him. Puppets. Pawns,” Riona continued, undaunted. “You said earlier that I should pray that my uncle has mercy for me. If he is willing to order the murder of his own niece, what do you think he will do with you once you’ve outlasted your usefulness? Do you truly believe that he will allow you to have a life after the mines?”

“Be quiet!”

“No. The only way you and the other prisoners here will leave with your lives and your wits is if you let me go. I don’t want the eudorite to be mined ifthisis the price we must pay. Let me go, and we—”

The overseer seized her throat in one large hand, sealing off her air. In her periphery, Riona saw the guards at the archway exchange excited looks. “There’s no doubt you’re the king’s blood, little rat. You’ve got a silver tongue, just like the rest of the court.”

Every muscle in her body tensed, screaming at her to fight. Her wrists strained against the rope binding them. Even so, she refused to let him see so much as a flicker of fear cross her face.

“Your uncle may not want you dead,” the overseer snarled, his voice muffled through the blood rushing in her ears, “but I bet he’d commend me if I took your tongue. Seems like you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

Stars flared and died in her vision.

He smirked. “Not so clever now, are you?”

At last, the overseer released her. Riona had just enough time to suck in a breath before he backhanded her again, his ring cutting into her cheek. Warm blood trickled down the side of her face as the overseer stalked back to his desk and sat. He picked up the quill and began writing, then paused when he noticed a fleck of blood on his ring.

“Only a few hours now, little rat,” he said as he picked up a handkerchief and wiped the ring clean. “And then we’ll see just how brave you really are.”

ChapterFifty

The Lady

Aragged scream tore through the tunnels, too raw—toohuman—to be the wind. The hair on the back of Riona’s neck rose as one, two, countless more joined it. The overseer spat a curse and leapt to his feet, his chair skidding across the rug and toppling over.

“Men, stay here and watch the girl,” he said to the guards as he strode through the archway, and they murmured their assent.

“Another collapse, ye think?” the stockier of the two asked once the overseer had left, his rural accent so thick Riona could barely make out the words.

“I don’t know, but that royal bitch is right—we’re all going to die here.”

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