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CHAPTER 14: THE WIFKED KING
I drum my fingernails against Dain’s old desk as the Roach leads the prisoner in.
“Her name is Asha,” he says. “Lady Asha.” Asha is thin and so pale that she seems a little gray. She does not look much like the laughing woman I saw in the crystal globe.
She is looking around the room in an ecstasy of confusion. It’s clear that she’s pleased to be away from the Tower of Forgetting. Her eyes are hungry, drinking in every detail of even this rather dull room.
“What was her crime?” I ask, downplaying my knowledge. I hope she will set the game and show more of herself that way.
The Roach grunts, playing along. “She was Eldred’s consort, and when he tired of her, she got tossed into the Tower.” There was doubtlessly more to it than that, but all I have discovered is that it concerned the death of another lover of the High King’s and,
somehow, Cardan’s involvement.
“Hard luck,” I say, indicating the chair in front of my desk. The one to which, five long months ago, Cardan had been tied. “Come sit.” I can see his face in hers. They share those ridiculous cheekbones, that soft mouth.She sits, gaze turning sharply to me. “I have a powerful thirst.” “Do you now?” the Roach asks, licking a corner of his lip with his black tongue. “Perhaps a cup of wine would restore you.” “I am chilled, too,” she tells him. “Cold down to the bone. Cold as the sea.” The Roach shares a look with me. “You tarry here with our own Shadow Queen, and I will see to the rest.” I do not know what I did to deserve such an extravagant title and fear it has been bestowed upon me as one might bestow an enormous troll with the moniker “Tiny,” but it does seem to impress her.
The Roach steps out, leaving us alone. My gaze follows him for a moment, thinking of the Bomb and her secret. Then I turn to Lady Asha.
“You said you knew my mother,” I remind her, hoping to draw her out with that, until I can figure out how to move on to what I really must know.
Her expression is of slight surprise, as though she is so distracted by her surroundings that she forgot her reason for being here....
“Her name is Asha,” he says. “Lady Asha.” Asha is thin and so pale that she seems a little gray. She does not look much like the laughing woman I saw in the crystal globe.
She is looking around the room in an ecstasy of confusion. It’s clear that she’s pleased to be away from the Tower of Forgetting. Her eyes are hungry, drinking in every detail of even this rather dull room.
“What was her crime?” I ask, downplaying my knowledge. I hope she will set the game and show more of herself that way.
The Roach grunts, playing along. “She was Eldred’s consort, and when he tired of her, she got tossed into the Tower.” There was doubtlessly more to it than that, but all I have discovered is that it concerned the death of another lover of the High King’s and,
somehow, Cardan’s involvement.
“Hard luck,” I say, indicating the chair in front of my desk. The one to which, five long months ago, Cardan had been tied. “Come sit.” I can see his face in hers. They share those ridiculous cheekbones, that soft mouth.She sits, gaze turning sharply to me. “I have a powerful thirst.” “Do you now?” the Roach asks, licking a corner of his lip with his black tongue. “Perhaps a cup of wine would restore you.” “I am chilled, too,” she tells him. “Cold down to the bone. Cold as the sea.” The Roach shares a look with me. “You tarry here with our own Shadow Queen, and I will see to the rest.” I do not know what I did to deserve such an extravagant title and fear it has been bestowed upon me as one might bestow an enormous troll with the moniker “Tiny,” but it does seem to impress her.
The Roach steps out, leaving us alone. My gaze follows him for a moment, thinking of the Bomb and her secret. Then I turn to Lady Asha.
“You said you knew my mother,” I remind her, hoping to draw her out with that, until I can figure out how to move on to what I really must know.
Her expression is of slight surprise, as though she is so distracted by her surroundings that she forgot her reason for being here....
