The Charnel Prince - J. Gregory Keyes [142]
“Very well, I accept that,” she said reluctantly. “I know that it was an unpopular move, particularly in certain quarters. But I felt I had to make some show of force, make some statement that I will not sit passive and be a target.”
“Maybe so,” Berrye agreed, “but you might have picked another battle. The landwaerden are no longer disaffected with the throne—they are furious at it. Your support in the Comven is weaker than ever, and the rumor in the streets is that you have gone mad. Worst of all, the praifec has begun to speak against you.”
“Really,” Muriele said. “What does the praifec say?”
“He suggests pointedly that you have wrested power from your son.”
“He knows very well Charles isn’t capable of making decisions.”
Berrye nodded. “That is, I believe, his point. His further point being that your son should be removed from your council and placed under his.”
Muriele smiled bitterly. “Only a few days ago, he suggested that I allow troops from z’Irbina to camp in this city. Did you know that?”
“No, but I could have guessed it. The Church is in motion, Majesty. I do not know the exact nature of their agenda, but I think it certain they are ending their long recusion from direct interference in secular affairs.”
Muriele settled her cup on the arm of her chair. “Hespero said something like that, too,” she said. “Very well—kill him for me.”
“Majesty?” Berrye’s eyes widened fractionally.
“I’m joking, Lady Berrye.”
“I . . . Oh, good.”
“Unless you think I’ve gone mad, as well.”
“I don’t think that at all, Majesty,” Berrye assured her.
“Well, good,” she said sarcastically. “You’ve told me what I did wrong—I’m open to your suggestions of what to do right.”
“It’s of the greatest importance that you win the landwaerden and merchants back to your cause, Majesty,” the girl replied. “I cannot stress that enough.”
“Believe it or not,” Muriele said, “I had entertained thoughts along those lines some weeks ago. I commissioned a piece of music to be composed for them and for the common people of the city. The performance was to be some three weeks hence, with a banquet to accompany it. I didn’t know that Lady Gramme had beaten me to it. Now I suppose there’s little point. It will only seem like an apology.”
“Which is precisely why you should go ahead with it,” Berrye said. “But you must go farther, I think, and consider what laws you might reform to pacify them. I would suggest a formal hearing where they may present their demands.”
“I’ll do so tomorrow. What else?”
“Whether you’ve thrown in with Liery or not, everyone thinks you have. You have two choices: either disprove that notion by marrying Berimund, or make it true in every sense by marrying one of the Lierish lords.”
“No,” Muriele said. “What else?”
“Free Gramme immediately,” Berrye urged. “You haven’t proved she’s done anything wrong, and if something happens to her while she is in your custody, it will only make you look worse.”
“I was rather hoping something would happen to her while she was in my custody,” Muriele replied.
“I hope that’s another joke, Majesty.”
“It is, Lady Berrye, but just barely. I’ll have her freed within the hour. Is there anything else?”
“Yes. Make some appearances outside this hall. And get some sleep—you’re getting circles beneath your eyes.”
Muriele chuckled. “Erren used to comb my hair. Are you going to start that, too?”
“If you wish, Majesty,” Berrye said cautiously.
“No, thank you. I think I would find it a trifle too familiar, having my husband’s mistress running a comb through my hair.”
“That’s understandable.”
“Did you comb his hair?”
“I— Now and then,” Berrye confessed.
“Did that strange snuffling noise he made in his sleep annoy you?”
“I found it endearing, Majesty.”
“Well. Thank you, Lady Berrye. We’ll speak again when you have more to report.”
Berrye got up to leave.
“One moment, Lady Berrye,” Muriele murmured, reaching a reluctant decision.
“Yes, Majesty.”
“The assassin who invaded my chambers