Traitors of the Realm - Kingmaker Book 1

Amiera - Purpose Chapter 6

If sorrow had a face, it would look like Amiera. Dark circles sat around her eyes and her hands folded as she wore her nightgown. Though it wasn't night, it seemed it was the only clothes she ever wore these days. She stood just outside her Lord husband's chamber, listening as he made noises like a hound, while laughing hysterically. She heard many voices in the room, all groaning in pleasure. She stood there, her eyes dry but red as if she'd cried herself a thousand times before. She turned to the side when she heard footsteps coming her way. A hooded figure dressed all in black greeted her. No sigil sat on his chest and there was no design on his clothing.

"Your Grace," the man said, removing his hood. A middle aged man was revealed. He was bald, with patches of grey on his trimmed beard. He looked at her with his dull, brown eyes. His forehead held a brand of the letter "R."

"Drustan," she said, happily. "I was expecting you on the morrow."

"Let us speak, somewhere private," he insisted. She nodded, then led him down the corridor, seven doors down. A bronze door sat with an eagle's head as the door knocker. One of the guards that stood guarding her door, opened it as she entered. A large bed greeted them in the middle with beautiful engraved posts that sat at the four ends of the bed. There was purple tapestry hanging down from both sides of the frame that sat above the bed. She made her way to the corner on the right, where a silver table stood, where a glass jug filled with wine and golden chalices sat together. She poured the man a drink, then one for herself; when she was done handing it to him, she took a seat on one of the wooden stools that sat near her bed foot. Across her bed, her golden dresser sat.The mirror stared right at her, and the woman she saw was unrecognizable. She seemed more pale than she remembered. Her black hair was long and tangled. Her grey eyes were gloom.

The man stood in front of her, blocking her reflection. A forced smile came across her face as he joined her on the stool beside her. "I intercepted this letter on the road," he said softly, with a gravelly voice. He handed her the brown folded paper, the green seal of House Kremwald already broken. "This should excite you."

"Good or bad?" she asked, reluctant to unfold it.

"Just read it," he said. "Thank the Gods your husband hasn't received it."

She opened it up, reading the short letter with scrappy handwriting. She began reading it under her breath, pausing when Kaelan's name appeared. At the bottom it was signed, Lord Tristan Kremwald. "Kaelan received ten lashes for defending the slaves," she said, the words fell out from her trembling lips. "My husband's cousin wants his head for cutting off his ear. He's asking for him to sign a death warrant."

"With the stroke of Lord Verdan's pen, the House of Bearheart ends with Kaelan," Drustan told her.

"Have it burned," she ordered, giving the letter back. "Did he receive the barrel of ale I sent, and the perfumes?"

"He has," the man confessed. "I believe the Commander takes most of it for himself."

"I know," she said. "It's a price we'll pay for having him keep his mouth shut."

"I have another matter to discuss with you," he replied, taking a sip of his wine before continuing. "Lord Verdan has gotten one of the women at the brothel pregnant. She has already given birth. I'm afraid he'll kill you and make his bastard the heir."

"He won't," she admitted. "He needs Ryker's daughter alive to keep the peace between his House and my father's House."

"Not if he kills you and names his bastard your son," said Drustan, with surety.

"Don't be dramatic. My husband loves me," she told him, almost believing the words herself. "I can't fault him for wanting company in his bed."

"Maybe you should do what you've been wanting to do for some time now," he advised. "Let's leave. We'll take a few men, loyal to you. We'll go to the Temple of Aphrodite."