COUNCIL CONFINEMENT

Elaris POV

The escorts do not take us through the palace entrance I know

They lead me away from the shrine and down a narrow passage through two outer courtyards, past columns of servants carrying empty trays before entering a section of the palace I have not had reason to visit.

The architecture is different throughout.

The polished corridors disappear.

The walls become plain stone.

There are fewer windows.

Fewer servants.

Fewer general signs that this is a place of residence.

A single guard opens a heavy wooden door.

Beyond it I find a small, bare room with a narrow cot, a stone basin, a table fixed against the opposite wall, and one high slit in the stone.

Bars cover the slit.

There is no view from the window.

I can take no measure of the time of day without waiting for the light to turn.

I step inside the room and two of the council guards follow me.

The door closes behind us and a single turn of a key on the other side is all the reassurance I will be provided.

I stare at the door for a few seconds before I realize that it does not offer protection.

Only confinement.

I sit cross-legged on the narrow cot.

The mattress is barely thick enough to hide the wood beneath.

Both hands come to rest over my stomach.

The child is quiet.

Too quiet.

I wait .

Then after a few seconds feel a small movement under my palm.

Relief loosens something in my chest.

"You're still with me."

I whisper.

Then begin sorting through the things I know for certain.

I did not touch Maevra's final cup .

I was under council guard when she died.

Maevra had confirmed the child, the attendant connected to Virelle had been associated with the altered medicine and the eastern gate.

The council knows all of these things.

Not one of them has kept me safe and that is a thought more punishing than the confined room.

Truth exists.

Evidence exists.

Records exist.

But truth has never promised any level of quick recognition .

I draw a slow breath and refuse to let the tears fall if this room is meant to convince me of my powerlessness.

No one provides me with food before the meal arrives.

The servant delivers it on a tray through the narrow slit in the door and does not look at me.

"Food."

I expect her to look up and confirm her presence before doing what she is here to do.

She does neither.

"Is there news from the Alpha?"

Her hands pause momentarily before continuing on their path.

"I wasn't told anything."

The door closes after her.

I eat until I am full and no more, receiving the next meal in the same way and the third in the same fashion.

The fourth I provide for myself, every servant keeping their gaze lowered the entire time.

By afternoon I understand that the palace knows already.

People know about my confinement and Maevra's death and the council's suspicions.

Perhaps they even know someone suspects me, but no one provides me with any outside information and that is an unacceptable punishment in and of itself.

I expect Averic to send a healer in the meantime.

Neryss.

A written letter.

Nothing arrives and it begins to seem like the silence may be deliberate.

Late afternoon finds the first official inquiry.

The door opens and a council clerk enters with a recording slate.

Two council guards stand behind him.

He gives no introduction before asking,

"State your name."

"Elaris Veyne."

"Your relationship to Lady Maevra Thorne?"

"Royal Caretaker."

"State when was the last time you prepared medicine."

"Last week."

"Last time you entered Lady Maevra's chamber?"

"I was at the shrine."

"Who had access to medication stores?"

"Prior incidents? I believed it to be Virelle."

"When was the final instance of collapse?"

"Immediately after the final examination."

"Did you speak with Lady Maevra during her period of lucidity?"

"Yes."

"Did she accuse anyone?"

"No."

"Request anything from you?"

"She asked me to be strong."

He occasionally pauses to consult the small slate before him.

Never questions me directly and that is an ordeal in itself.

There is no rebuttal I need to prepare myself for.

Only the feeling of words being gathered against me until his hands finally close around an ending statement.

"When you are done I will need a printed record of this conversation for the council's records."

I continue to stare at him.

"You've stated nothing I need to refute, but I will not give you a list of things for the council to believe."

His jaw tightens and his gaze drops briefly to the tablet in his hands before he leaves.

"Your statement has been recorded."

He leaves, turning the key in the floor lock once he is gone.

I follow his exit.

They are compiling something.

I just do not know how much already exists.

Evening finds me waiting on the cot, the new pair of guards speaking to one another in much lower tones than the ones who took their shift in the late afternoon.

I lie down in preparation for sleep but do not manage to rest for more than a few minutes, waking every time I hear unfamiliar sounds in the hallway.

Boots marching away from the door.

Some distant door opening.

The creak of a cart.

A hushed voice too far to make out the words.

Then more silence than before.

I begin to measure the hours by the movements of the child.

Each small shift of position inside my belly and the restful pauses following them.

I place my palm against my stomach, pressing lightly against the spot where I feel the movements most strongly.

"You don't know what's happening."

There is another moment of shifting within me before I continue.

"No matter what they say you didn't do anything."

It sounds like something she cannot understand and she is right, but I continue speaking anyway.

If I stop I will start thinking about Maevra.

If I start thinking about Maevra I will start remembering that it is not likely she will ever return.

One.

Then a second time I count the small signs of life within me until I remember what it means.

That something living always has enough life left to go on for just one more day.

Near midnight the door lock clicks and this time the entry is made more broadly.

Sennik walks inside, allowing two additional observers to follow him before giving me any attention.

He does not sit, but I rise from the cot regardless.

"What happened?"

He watches me for a moment before answering.

"The medical inspection has been completed."

My stomach tightens at the sound of it and I watch him closely as I prepare myself for the next few words.

"The results have been reviewed by the council."

I say nothing.

Sennik moves further into the room.

"There will be no more delay in informing you of the preliminary conclusion."

I glance at the document he holds, never looking directly at him.

"What conclusion?"

His jaw is tight.

"Lady Maevra's death was not found to be the result of mere natural decline."

It is impossible to disguise his carefully measured tones.

Every word written to survive a second telling and I know what comes next.

"Final examination dose was altered," Sennik says quietly.

"It matched the compound known to be present in the earlier compromised medications."

I grip the edge of the table with both hands.

"The concentration was greater," Sennik continues.

One of the observers writes down a note.

"The dose administered during her final episode was more potent than any prior substance given to Lady Maevra."

He watches me closely.

"In her weakened state it would have been sufficient to cause her death."

I swallow hard against the sudden tightness in my throat.

"So she was killed."

Sennik pauses consideringly.

"The council's preliminary medical classification is classified as induced death."

I have expected no less.

Murder is not what he says.

Not yet .

Induced death is still a statement with room to name a perpetrator and I continue watching him as I turn my attention on the document in his hands.

"Was there anything else?"

"There were signs to indicate the altered medication followed the same pattern as previous incidents."

This means someone persisted before finally succeeding.

This means the council will have to decide who benefits most from it and I feel something sour in my throat at his next words.

"Because Lady Maevra specifically requested you during her final period of lucidity…and because of the repeated nature in which the incidents surrounding the supposed carrying of the Alpha's children have intervened with the conflict between them…"

There it is.

The link between them.

Not proof, not yet, but a theory voiced directly in a council chamber and Sennik says coolly,

"The council has designated you the primary person of interest into the death of the Alpha's mother."

For several seconds I say nothing, letting his words settle over me like cold rain.

Primary person of interest.

It means what he says, but it sounds so very little like a conviction and I find myself asking,

"Because she asked for me?"

"That is one factor."

"And because I took care of her?"

"That provided you with access."

I look up at him.

"Why not investigate everyone who provided access then?"

"We are."

"Then explain to me why I am the primary person of interest?"

Sennik's expression does not change.

"Because the council must determine if your involvement was greater than your provided role."

My throat is tight, because it was not the involvement they found.

They only found a place to begin looking.

I force myself to ask the one thing that matters.

"The attendant who prepared Lady Maevra's final medication?"

Sennik says nothing.

"Has she been questioned?"

"She is under individual examination."

"Where?"

"That information is not necessary to you."

My hands tighten against my sides.

"Did she confirm the person who gave her those orders?"

"The examination is ongoing."

I understand that immediately, because it means he does not want to tell me.

Perhaps he has not wanted to know either.

Maybe she has said enough.

Maybe she has said nothing at all and he is protecting her from me, pretending to be unbiased when it is obviously not the truth.

The warning I received, the changed medicine, the broken chain clasps and the broken gate I still remember.

They all seem to point to one woman and yet I know nothing of her that would survive the council's scrutiny and I ask one final question.

"Is she still alive?"

Sennik does not answer immediately and I understand the hesitation before his next words.

"She remains under the supervision of the council."

He turns toward the door, but I stop him.

"Has Averic seen the report yet?"

Sennik pauses with one hand nearly touching the handle.

"Yes."

My fingers curl around the edge of the blanket where I sit.

"And?"

"He has received the full preliminary findings."

There is something choking in my throat before I add one final question.

"Did he believe them?"

Sennik studies me for a moment.

"He requested time before issuing further statements."

There is no point in pretending anything different.

I have spent most of the day waiting on a message of any kind to arrive from Averic.

A letter.

A question.

A warning.

A promise or a threat, something to give me a sense of where I stand.

Instead he got the report and refused to comment before sending it to me and still I know no more than I have at the beginning of the day.

I only nod slowly now when Sennik leaves, the door closing behind him with another final clink of the lock.

They have decided I am suspicious, written it down, and yet I sit cross-legged on the cot.

Primary person of interest is a phrase that binds more than it exonerates and I find myself whispering the words over and over to myself.

It takes practice, but eventually it becomes only the sound of the language before my fingers come to rest on my stomach.

"Your father knows the truth."

But I am not sure if it is true anymore, because Averic has not come.

He has not sent for me.

He has not told the council that I was under council guard when his mother received the fatal dose.

Perhaps because he is grieving.

Perhaps because it is hard to make sense of the fact that she is gone no matter how much his pain is clouding everything else.

Perhaps he is pretending it did not happen.

I want to believe that, because it is easier to ignore the fact that the child within me is the final threat to my continued existence.

The night deepens and I lie down on the cot without removing my dress, sleep refusing to come.

Then the door opens and Averic stands in the threshold, only one council observer behind him several paces distant.

We do not speak for a moment before he meets my gaze, a new sort of exhaustion pulling the lines of his mouth down and I realize nothing in his features has changed since the last time I saw him except perhaps his grief.

It has not made him weaker.

If anything it has hardened him.

It has made him colder.

I rise slowly from the cot.

"Averic."

He does not respond to my greeting, only steps forward into the room.

The observer remains in the hallway and Averic's eyes scan briefly over my stomach before settling on my face.

I wait for him to remind himself of who I am, of how he knew me before he says anything else, but it does not come.

"When you wake at first light the council will be ready to hear your decision."

I curl my fingers around the edge of the blanket, my voice thick.

"What decision?"

His gaze does not leave my face, though he comes to a stop a careful distance from where I sit.

"The decision regarding your fate."

My throat tightens.

"I came to hear you say it one last time."

I stare at him.

"Say what?"

His lips tighten.

"Tell me the truth."

He says it almost the same way as he asked me in the shrine, but this time there is no audience, no council room, no Virelle standing between us and whatever words are about to come out of my mouth.

What he hears in the next breath may determine if I live or die according to his own desires.