Chapter 173: The Mercy of Consequences

Chapter 173: Chapter 173: The Mercy of Consequences

The news reached Draevenor Manor shortly after dusk.

Elysia was sitting by the lamp in her study, working on a spray of white plum blossoms on pale blue silk.

She had finished barely three petals that evening, her mind clearly preoccupied.

Miriam came in quietly, closed the door behind her, and bent close to her ear.

"Your Grace," she whispered. "Master Xanther has been taken by the magistrate’s men. They say it’s treason."

Elysia’s needle paused for the briefest moment.

Then she drew the thread through the silk, pulled it taut, and made one small, neat stitch.

"I see," she said.

She set the embroidery down on her lap.

"Tell the steward that no one in this household is to speak of it beyond these walls. Everyone is to go about their duties as usual."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Miriam hurried out.

Elysia picked up her needle again.

She did not make another stitch.

---

Barely the time it took an incense stick to burn had passed when a young maid appeared at the door of the study, flushed and anxious.

"Your Grace, forgive me. Lady Melissa is at the courtyard gate. She is asking to see you." The maid hesitated. "She says... she says that if Your Grace will not see her soon, she will kneel outside the gate until you do."

Elysia set the embroidery aside and rose.

She was not surprised.

In that short time, Miriam had already told her that Melissa had been trying to send servants out of Rose Hall. One to the magistrate’s court. Two more with sealed letters for acquaintances in the city.

None of them had got out.

The side gate, the steward said, had rusted shut.

Elysia had watched Miriam walk through that very gate only yesterday. It had opened perfectly well.

When her servants had failed, Melissa had tried to leave by the front gate herself. The guards had refused her.

No one from Rose Hall was to leave the manor tonight.

By order of His Grace.

Elysia had not needed to think very hard about that.

Cassiel had not even come home yet. And still, within moments of the news arriving, every road out of Rose Hall had quietly closed.

No letters slipped into the right hands.

No purses pressed into the palms of gaolers.

He was making certain that Melissa could not make this any worse.

Elysia crossed the courtyard towards the gate.

Melissa stood just outside it, two of her maids hovering behind her.

Her hair had been pinned up crookedly, and one of her sleeves was creased where she had gripped it too hard.

When she saw Elysia, she lowered her head.

"Your Grace."

It was the first time Melissa had ever addressed her by her title without a sneer behind it.

Elysia inclined her head. "Aunt Melissa."

"They’ve taken him." Melissa’s voice trembled. "Dragged him off the street like a common thief. They’re saying he sold secrets to some foreign spy."

She let out a thin, disbelieving laugh.

"Xanther. Selling secrets. He can barely remember which day the Velvet Lantern changes its dice. You know him. You’ve lived under the same roof. He is many things, but he is not that."

Her voice dropped.

"I know there has been... unpleasantness between us. I know you have no reason to think kindly of me. But he is still family. He is Benedict’s son. He is your cousin by marriage." Her voice cracked. "Whatever has passed between us, surely family must stand by family at a time like this."

Elysia looked at the woman who had spent months plotting behind her back and was now standing outside her gate, begging.

She felt no triumph. Only a strange, quiet tiredness.

"What would you have me do, Aunt?"

"Speak to the magistrate. Speak to His Majesty. You are the Duchess of Draevenor. They’ll listen to you." Melissa lowered her voice further. "And tell the guards to let me through. They won’t let me leave. They say it’s the Duke’s orders."

"That is because they are the Duke’s orders," Elysia said evenly. "They are not my guards, Aunt. I cannot overturn His Grace’s orders as I please."

"But—"

"And as for the magistrate..." Elysia shook her head slowly. "If a duchess marches into his court and demands that a man accused of treason be released, what do you think will happen?"

She paused.

Melissa’s lips parted, but no sound came out.

"His Grace is the head of this family," Elysia went on. "If there has been a mistake, he will be the one to set it right. Until then, the worst thing you could do for your son is send letters and servants and purses into the city on his behalf. If anyone found out, they would call it bribery. And they would take it as proof of his guilt."

Melissa flinched.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Melissa was not reconciled. But she was not a fool either, and she knew there was nothing more she could do tonight.

Her shoulders sagged.

"Then please speak to Cassiel," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. "Ask him to help his cousin. He cannot stay in that rotten prison."

"I’ll tell him you came to me," Elysia said.

It was not a promise, and they both knew it.

Elysia turned and walked away without another word.

Just before she reached her courtyard, she saw Lillian.

The girl stood beneath the plum tree at the edge of the path, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

"Your Grace," she said quietly. "Is it true? About Xanther?"

Elysia nodded.

Lillian’s lips trembled. She did not cry, but when she spoke, the words came out in a rush.

"I know my brother is no good. But I cannot believe he would sell out his own family. His own country." She swallowed. "Father died for this kingdom. Whatever else Xanther is, he would never do that."

She looked up at Elysia, her eyes wide and pleading.

"If there is anything Your Grace can do for him..."

Elysia looked into that earnest face and felt something twist quietly in her chest.

Lillian did not know what her brother had tried to do on the night he took his mother’s token and crept towards the Duke’s courtyard.

Elysia did not want her to know, either.

She stepped forward and took Lillian’s cold hands in both of her own.

"Listen to me," she said gently. "Whatever happens to your brother, you will not pay for it. Your future will not be decided by Xanther. I promise you that."

She thought of the royal decree sitting in the King’s study, already sealed, waiting for the right moment to be delivered.

Then she gently patted Lillian’s hand.

"Go and eat something," Elysia said. "And then sleep. Tomorrow will look different."

After Lillian had gone, Elysia sat alone in her study, the lamp burning low beside her.

She had known the moment she read Xanther’s ledger that a simple sale would not be enough. Selling a family heirloom was a disgrace, but disgrace faded.

Xanther would be back at the Velvet Lantern before the month was out.

And if he ever found out that Elysia had a hand in it, he would only come after her.

So she had given the magistrate something far heavier to find.

The maps had come from one of her father’s old chests. Charts of the northern border, drawn in a skilled cartographer’s careful hand years ago, before the last war had redrawn every road and moved half the garrisons.

In truth, they were worth nothing at all.

No one would be put in danger because of them.

And without a real secret behind the charge, no court in Aveanlor would send the Duke of Draevenor’s cousin to the gallows.

She did not want him dead.

She only wanted him gone.

For the time being, at least.

He was Cassiel’s own cousin. A war hero’s son. Sooner or later, he would walk out of that gaol.

But treason was not a charge any magistrate could dismiss in a day.

She knew there were several loose threads in her plan. The room by the river gate. The storyteller’s tale. The faded ink on those maps. A careful investigator could pull at any one of them.

She had sent the tip to the magistrate anonymously only that morning.

But Aunt Imogen had spent years running a tavern on Cloudmere Lane among gossips and thieves. If anyone could cover their tracks, it was her.

And by the time the case was dismissed and Xanther was eventually cleared of the charges, perhaps Cassiel would be home.

She did not know how long he would be gone.

She could only hope.

---

Cassiel came home long after dark.

She heard the wheels of his chair in the corridor and straightened without meaning to.

His own cousin, arrested for treason the night before he left for the north.

She braced herself.

The door opened. Cassiel wheeled himself in, looked at her sitting by the lamp, and paused.

"I heard," he said.

Elysia’s fingers tightened in her lap. "Your Grace, I..."

"Have you eaten?"

She blinked.

"I... no. Not yet."

Cassiel turned his head towards the door. "Bran. Have the kitchen bring something warm."

That was all.

He did not mention Xanther again. Not while they ate, not while they got ready for bed, and not when they finally lay down side by side in the dark.

Elysia lay awake for a long time, wondering what was going through his mind. Whether he knew she had a hand in what had happened.

She suspected he must have a fair idea. But he had said nothing, and she could not tell what he thought.

Eventually, she fell into a fitful, exhausted sleep.

She did not feel the mattress shift beside her an hour later. She did not hear the soft roll of the wheelchair crossing the floor, or the door easing shut.

In the courtyard below, Bran stood waiting beside an unmarked carriage.

"Where to, Your Grace?"

Cassiel looked up at the darkened window of the bedchamber for a moment.

"The city gaol."