Page 43 of Only in Moonlight (The Moonlit Court #1)

Valen

I hadn’t been caught committing a crime in over a decade.

Too old to be called a boy, too young to count as a man, I’d sat hunched in a room in the palace.

It was a luxurious chamber with wide windows and soft cushioned chairs, but I’d known it was a holding cell.

Guards had stood just outside the door. Only my new rank as a knight had kept me out of the dungeons—for the moment.

I’d expected to be there by the end of the day.

The doors opened, but it wasn’t the marshal or a magistrate who walked in. It was Queen Verena.

I leaped up and bowed deeply. “Your Majesty! I...”

“Good day, Sir Valen.” She swept gracefully over to the chair across from me and sat, two bodyguards taking up positions behind her.

She gestured at my chair. “Please sit.”

I sat, hands clenched in my lap.

“Tell me about Sergeant Bonitus,” she said.

A cold sweat broke out on my skin as a tremor ran through me. I’d been prepared to lie to the marshal or a magistrate, but not to the queen. What should I do? Refuse to say anything? Try to paint myself in a better light?

No, she deserved the truth.

“He was taking advantage of Gallien,” I said in a low voice. “Forcing him to—” The words tasted like ash in my mouth, an acrid tang that made my stomach churn. “He was forcing him after fencing practice.”

I waited for disbelief and denial, but she merely said. “Go on.”

With a slow, deep breath, I centered myself. “Gallien was too scared to make a formal accusation. He’s training to be a guard. His parents are fishermen, and Bonitus is from a noble family. He didn’t think anyone would help him.”

“But you tried to?”

My knuckles went white as my hands clenched, rage filling me at the memory. “I went to the marshal. He called me an uppity brat and said I’d better have proof before accusing my betters.”

“I see.” The queen’s voice was bland, but her eyes grew fiery.

“I tried to get witnesses.” The words poured out of me more quickly now. “And a few people had heard rumors that Bonitus molested his students, but no one would go on record.”

The frustration still burned, a hot, angry ember in my chest. The Moonlit Court was supposed to hold the noblest fey in all the kingdoms, but no one would take the slightest risk to bring Bonitus to justice.

“So what did you do?” the queen asked as my silence drew out.

My anger and frustration drained away, and I slumped.

“I poisoned his afternoon tea. It was the only way to protect Gallien and the others.”

Silence filled the room, oppressive and vast. I wanted to turn away from her, to hide from her judgement, but I forced myself to remain still. Ever since Queen Verena had knighted me, I’d wanted to make her proud. Instead, I’d just confessed to murder.

Drudon had been right. The queen had made a mistake when she’d knighted me. All I did was get people killed.

“Tell me, Sir Valen, do you enjoy being a knight?”

The abrupt change in subject made me straighten and stare at her. She smiled softly at my confusion.

“It’s my greatest honor, Your Majesty.”

One that she would surely strip from me now.

“That’s not what I asked,” she said gently. “Do you enjoy it? Do you find the work fulfilling?”

Still confused, I strove to answer honestly. “I like learning how to fight. Being responsible for tenants is strange, but I swore I’d take better care of them than their last lord once I finish my management lessons. The etiquette training is...”

I hesitated, but she was going to throw me in the dungeons anyway, so why not?

“It’s pointless,” I said. “I’d rather spend more time practicing fencing drills or studying combat strategy so I can better defend the kingdom. I don’t care about a bunch of stupid parties.”

I winced, but the queen was still smiling.

“Those parties are opportunities to build connections in the Court and strengthen alliances. Had you gone to more of them, you could have met someone with the authority to investigate Bonitus when the marshal—pardon me, former marshal—didn’t.”

I gaped at her. I’d never looked at it that way.

“You could have also come to me,” she said.

“B-But— Your Majesty— You—”

“My most sacred duty is to protect my people, especially those who cannot protect themselves.”

Her voice held steel. I hung my head.

“I’m not angry at you, Sir Valen. I’m angry at Bonitus—and at myself for never noticing his crimes.”

My mouth opened and closed as I struggled for the right words to reassure her, but they escaped my grasp.

“Now,” she said. “The question is what to do about you.”

I sat up straighter, holding my head high. “I’m prepared for imprisonment or death, Your Majesty. I don’t regret what I did.”

Perhaps I should have. Was there something wrong with me that I didn’t? I regretted that it had been necessary, but not that I’d taken his life.

Queen Verena stood. “The Crown generally frowns upon its subjects killing one another. I cannot deny the mitigating circumstances in your case, but neither is it clear self-defense. You planned this. You executed the murder almost flawlessly.”

I tried to breathe steadily, but it was hard.

My chest ached, a tightness constricting each breath.

The queen looked me over, and I wondered what she saw: the beads of sweat prickling my forehead despite the cool air of the chamber, my hands still clenched tightly in my lap, the undeserved emblem of my knighthood on my surcoat.

Or maybe she saw deeper, to the unrepentant killer inside.

“It would be a waste to execute you.”

Her words did little to soothe the frantic hammering of my heart. My stomach churned, a nauseous twist of anxiety battling with a fragile, hesitant hope.

“Your penance will be to serve me,” she said. “And the sentence is for life.”

I glanced at her bodyguards to see if they had any answers.

“Your Majesty? I already...”

“Not just as my knight,” she said, a sad smile crinkling her eyes. “As my spy.”