Gorgoroth (Haladras #2)

THIRTY-THREE

"He got away! The crowned prince of Ahlderon was in your grasp and you let him get away!"

The empress rose to her feet and glared at the princess, her eyes aflame, her teeth bare. Her honed finger nails, like the claws of a tigress, dug into the surface of her desk.

Inside, the princess flinched at her mother's wrath. On the outside, she held her composure and stared defiantly back into those terrible eyes.

"I couldn't imprison both of them by myself," said the princess, fighting to bolster her voice with confidence. "So, I locked them in Rizain's quarters and sent for the guards. They are the ones who let them get away."

The empress' face screwed up as if a bile taste had suddenly filled her mouth.

"Do not cast your failings on the shoulders of another. Why on a black sun did you not dispatch the both of them out of hand? You cannot make me believe these two Ahlderion's—one a mere boy—were too much for you to handle."

The princess scoffed, her pride rushing in to reignite her confidence. She lifted her chin as she responded.

"I could have dispatched them both with a mere dagger. I've seen children who know how to handle a sword better than my brother."

"Then I ask you again, why did you not take care of them?"

"I believed that honor belonged to you, Your ."

The princess seldom referred to her mother as Your Highness outside of court. The princess knew she must tread lightly, though. This may be her mother, but who knew what retributive caprice her fury might elicit?

"Honor!" shrilled the empress in a voice which pierced her ears. "I want that brat brother of yours dead and you on the throne of Ahlderon. Give me that honor."

"Yes, Your Highness," replied the princess obsequiously.

The empress removed her claws from the desk and returned to her full height. She silently considered her daughter for a moment. Slowly the chill of her gaze thawed. With a curt sweep of her robe, she sat back in her chair.

"Never mind," she said calmly. "He'll live to breathe a few days more, that is all. He shall not hinder us. Is there anything else, daughter?"

The empress said daughter in such a biting tone that princes felt injured by them. It was as if her mother were mocking that title.

"There is," the princess replied, wishing there weren't.

The Empress raised one eyebrow and pressed her fingertips together.

The princess went on, "Icca is gone."

"Icca?" replied the empress with subdued surprise, but not a hint of anger. "Gone to where?"

"The guards saw her fleeing with the...with my brother and his oaf companion."

"They kidnapped Icca?"

"Or she ran away. I don't know, Your Highness."

"Ran away."

The empress repeated the words to herself, as if she couldn't believe they were true.

That her mother should feel distraught at this news puzzled the princess. Putout at losing a servant, yes. Grief, though? Icca: that pathetic excuse for a serving wench? Perhaps her mother's thoughts were distracted by some other matter, and she cared nothing for anything which concerned Icca.

"I will see that they are all found. Leave me now."

With a low bow, the princess turned and left her mother's study.