Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [139]
“Where is Lord Sien?” Albain asked. “Where are the Vindicants? Why haven’t the temple fires been lit and something attempted to lift this cloud?”
Tirhin glared at him. “Is that a criticism, Lord Albain?”
Albain glared right back. “When I see chaos in all directions, people starving, hardly any organization or security to the place, and demons running amok as freely as they please, I feel I may comment, sir.”
“We’re all very tired,” Lord Pier interjected, trying to smooth over the sudden tension. “Perhaps in the morning, everyone will be in better temper.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Tirhin said, turning to him with a smile. He snapped his fingers to summon a servant. “We are cramped here, you understand. If the ladies will consent to share her Majesty’s chamber, then I am sure we will be able to find accommodations for these men.”
The servant bowed low.
Albain and Pier exchanged hostile glances.
Elandra turned her gaze upon Tirhin, noticing as she did so that some of his guests had ventured out onto the stairs and were gawking at her. She raised her chin very high.
“Your highness,” she said loudly, using his old title to annoy him, “your men have dragged me here against my will. Now I am to be kept your prisoner in our once proud city, which you have ruined. I hold you to blame for everything which has befallen Imperia, and I state now that I shall never marry you to preserve the throne which you have seized by deceit. I love another man, and he alone shall possess me, body and soul. As long as he lives, I am his. As for you, I would rather die first. Good night.”
Without another glance at Tirhin, who looked livid, she picked up her skirts and walked toward the stairs, forcing the servant to run after her.
“Show me to the quarters where I shall be imprisoned,” she said, and swept past the gawking courtiers, who had heard every defiant word. In silence they bowed to her, although she did not acknowledge their presence with even a glance.
Looking vexed, Iaris hastened after her. Elandra smiled to herself. Tirhin was a drunkard and a fool. He would make her pay for tonight’s humiliation, but right now she did not care.
Her chamber was luxurious and more spacious than she had expected. The opulent furnishings were not to her taste, but she had to admit the bed looked comfortable. Food and drink were waiting on a table, filling the air with their aromas. Flowers—if scraggly and none too fresh—stood in a small vase.
The gesture brought tears to her eyes. How pathetic to offer her flowers—and where had they possibly been gleaned from?— as though that was all it took to soften her heart. She sighed and stretched out her hands to the fire.
All she wanted now was a dab of water to wash her face, and the oblivion of sleep. Every part of her ached.
Iaris moved around briskly, peering behind drawn curtains at windows shuttered and barred, then coming back to rearrange the flowers and peek under the food covers.
“The food is hot,” she said. “Come and eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Don’t be a fool. Do you expect to starve yourself to death? I warn you, it is easier to be defiant on a full stomach.”
Elandra turned slightly to glance at her. The fragrance of food made her feel ill. “No, please go ahead. I don’t want it.”
“You’ve barely eaten in days,” Iaris said. “Pining for your lost lover is one thing, but you must—”
“I don’t need a lecture from you,” Elandra broke in rudely. She crossed the room and sat down on the bed.
The lamps were too bright. Her eyes hurt, and her vision was blurred. She felt dizzy from the hot room and let herself sink down. The bed felt as though it were spinning. She closed her eyes.
The touch of Iaris’s hand on her brow made her open them again. She frowned, wishing Iaris would leave her alone. Her mother had been hovering near her through the entire journey, watching and criticizing, providing little comfort.
“No fever,” Iaris said. “You’ve been looking ill. Tonight you’re very pale. Did the city upset