Page 50 of Thorns and Echoes

Theia. The conceited bitch had changed her name upon becoming a priestess. If the goddess were real, she would have struck down her ‘follower’.

That was fine, too. Anais was happy to help a busy deity.

The duchess named a few more, all high-ranking nobles and sycophants of Yelena. Castien hadn't named his tormentors. Not to her, at least. Octavius had given her only the information a Queen might need, such as Duke Trenton’s appointment.

“That's all that I know of. A few servants, but they didn't hurt him. Oh, and Frances, but he's just the healer.”

Octavius would never let any servant return to court so damaged. No few courtesans and servants had disappeared after a particularly terrible injury. There were lines they refused to cross. Not enough of them, but some.

Anais demanded, “Tell me about Frances.”

“Frances? He’s no one. I suppose… he was the only healer allowed near your Escort. I don't know.” The lady pursed her lips. “Come to think of it… Frances has been a court healer for years, but the Queen hadn't noticed him until Castien came along.”

Anais narrowed her eyes. “Why haven't you mentioned him before?”

“I didn't– I didn't think he was important.”

The Queen's claws scratched Isabel’s cheek. She leaned in and whispered, “Everything. Do you know the meaning of the word, my lady?”

“I-I’m sorry. Please…”

Leaning back, the Queen studied the lady's fearful face. “Clearly, my priorities are not in the right place. My illness, the urgency, my lost property. Tsk. I am not myself. Forgive me, my lady.”

She rose partway, extending a hand. The duchess hesitantly took it. Hauled to her feet, Lady Isabel was still as Anais stood but a few inches away.

“Highness, please–”

The Queen placed a claw lightly on Isabel's lips. Her own lips curved in a terrible smile. “I have been too lenient with you. Were we in my palace, and you one of my nobles, I would have you whipped. Defy your Queen? Disobey me? Is that what Yelena tolerates?”

Almost gently, she took one of the lady's hands in her own. “I do not.”

And snapped a finger backwards.

Isabel screamed.

“Shh, hush,” the Queen murmured, tapping the lady's cheek. “No need for that. It's just one finger. I could take your claws for withholding information. Perhaps I should.”

The Nadraken panted and clutched her hand to her chest. “I didn't mean… I'm sorry! I didn't know it was important. Please, highness, forgive me.”

“Hmm.” Anais dropped her hands and stepped back. “I choose to believe you. Take some time. Try very hard to think of anything else you have ‘forgotten’.” She turned to face her Escorts.

The lady's soft, quavering voice interrupted her. “Highness, the horse… When may I leave?”

Perhaps she wasn't completely a coward.

“When I am satisfied.”

As she closed the distance to her Escorts, a figure flew from behind Pelios. The servant girl murmured, “My lady, are you alright? Can I–”

“Don't touch me,” snapped Isabel. “Cowering behind a Drantarian, were you? Your brother would be so disappointed. Bind my hand! Quickly now!”

While Pelios kept an eye on the Nadrakens, Anais took the reins of her horse from Vern. He remained at her side, murmuring, “We are not at court.”

“She's a slaver,” Anais snapped. Not that it mattered. There wasn't much she wouldn't do, lines she wouldn't cross to hold Castien in her arms again. Had Vern realized that yet?

“Then we should simply kill her.”

She swung onto her mount. “No. We learned something. She might know more.”