The Steel Princess

Chapter 19: Errors Of Judgement

There was a message waiting for Skye when she got back to the castle. It was couched in the politest possible terms, but reading it was akin to taking a physical blow. Duke Gildan had left the seclusion of his Celiande townhouse to return to the castle, and requested the honour of her presence. Duke Gildan, senior Council member, one of Eskeleth's most powerful figures - and Karic's father.

He was waiting for her in the Great Hall and the room fell silent as Skye entered, the gazes of Gildan and every one of his retinue falling upon her. For a moment, she wanted to rush across the room and babble apologies for what had happened to his son. That wouldn't solve anything, though, and no matter her private grief over Karic, she couldn't show weakness now.

As she crossed the room, Gildan got to his feet, leaning heavily on the table for support. She'd seen him at Council barely two weeks before, but he seemed far older now, doddering and frail, as though the death of his son had sucked all the life out of him.

At least he had a sense for protocol, and as Skye approached, dropped into a shaky bow. Neither Gildan nor Karic had ever questioned her right to the throne, and even now the duke didn't look like he was here for a fight.

She hurried the last few paces, taking Gildan's papery hands and levering him upright. "Thank you, my lord," she murmured, so that only he would hear, "but you don't have to bow to me, not after..."

Gildan looked up, and for a moment Skye saw an alarming flash of anger in his eyes - but she knew just as quickly that it wasn't directed at her. "I do, Your Highness," he replied, making no effort to keep his voice low. "You are my princess, soon to be my queen. Let no-one here forget it."

Skye felt a rush of gratitude, which only grew stronger as Gildan shuffled aside to let her take the seat at the head of the table. He sank heavily into the chair on her right, fingers massaging at a pain in his knee. Skye gestured to the servants, who rushed in with jugs of cool summer wine; before they could pour, she waved them away, and served Gildan herself. She couldn't find the words for an apology; gestures would have to do.

Gildan himself seemed content to do most of the talking, at least. "Your Highness, I shouldn't need to say this, but I will. I don't blame you for what happened to my son. He was a proud, strong boy, and if you'd so honoured him, he would have made a fine consort. It's not your fault his chance was taken away."

Skye looked up, finally meeting the duke's gaze. Tears glimmered in his eyes, though his expression was one of fierce determination. He didn't want her to apologise, she realised. Her taking the blame not only weakened her position, but cheapened Karic's sacrifice. It had been his decision, and his alone, to be present at the gathering. It was his choice to put himself forward as consort - and it was his strength, his integrity, that had led the Nocturnes to target him.

She nodded, taking a long draught of wine. "I'm going to put the Nocturnes to rest," she said firmly, without the faintest idea how. No-one had managed to root them out yet, not any of the dukes, the city guard, nor even the Church, who'd found nothing but empty shrines and cold offerings in their search. Skye had considered seeking out Dara personally, but if the rest of the Nocturnes found out, she'd be putting his life at risk, and she wasn't prepared for that just yet.

Gildan's eyes glittered, though his tears were gone. "Allow me to offer a solution to that particular problem, Your Highness."

"A solution?"

Gildan pushed himself upright in his chair, then slammed his cup down with a snap that made Skye jump. "The Nocturnes are a plague upon our fair city. I'll see them wiped from existence, the scourge burned clean."

Skye almost protested - the Nocturnes had been around for centuries, and no-one had got rid of them yet - but something held her tongue. The duke wasn't speaking in abstracts, and this wasn't an idle promise.