The Tyrant's Queen

33: the ribbon and the dead men

*Warning: conversations & scenes pertaining to suicide *

"Did you kill my mother?"

Thalia started at her own voice. It was about thirty minutes past midnight.

After bathing and getting dressed in a warm nightdress by the unusually quiet Ulla and Viva, as she'd done for the past few days, she went to Lucien's bedchamber.

There, she lay in bed, under his bed sheets. And in the pitch black darkness after the twins had left her to sleep, she uttered out loud the single line that had been circling her head.

She was alone in the room, but had spoken it as a whisper. Anyone could be eavesdropping on the door.

The piece of paper was enclosed in her fist. She'd contemplated throwing it into the fire, but if she was going to ask Lucien that question-

What would change, if he said yes? And what would change, if he said no?

Letellia was dead, and even if she'd died an unnatural death, Thalia had no power to bring her any justice. Even justice, would not bring Letellia back to life.

Lucien might kill Thalia, if the answer was a yes. Or he might let her live, because who would believe the peasant queen?

Shifting to her right on the bed, Thalia pulled out an extra vial she'd brought from her room. Just like a child would sneak extra cookies to bed.

Without any attempt to resist the craving, she opened the cork, and tilted the glass to her lips.

The liquid- the drug- was almost tasteless, odorless. Yet, she could swear it tasted sweeter than it had before.

It even seemed to warm her belly, as she shivered from the winter winds seeping through the windows.

As she slipped the vial and piece of paper under the pillow, the sound of footsteps, nearing the door, echoed through the corridor.

Instinctively- not knowing why- Thalia closed her eyes. The door clicked open.

It was definitely Lucien. Even though his footsteps were muffled by the carpet, she heard the thud, thud sounds of his cane.

It would take some time for his eyes to adjust to the darkness- and she'd been in this room for long. Carefully, Thalia cracked open her eyes.

His back to her, Lucien was standing at his desk, doing something with his hands.

Even with the obstructed view, she could tell his movements were somewhat awkward, fumbling.

One hand was leaning on his cane, and at the same time trying to aid the movement of the other.

Something dropped onto the carpet. It was a piece of cloth- presumably ripped from some part of a clothing, judging from the rugged edges.

Even in the dark, the crimson splotches that had stained the fabric, were apparent.

Before she could help it, Thalia drew in a sharp breath. Without a moment of delay, Lucien turned sharply to face her, whipping out a knife from his belt.

He had an expression she was seeing for the first time.

Eyes shrewd and on high alert, his face without a trace of the jocular ease that marked his features most of the time.

Was this how he might have looked, fighting on the battlefields with Karlieus and General Ikan by his sides? It was the face of a soldier.

Only after he'd scanned the surroundings did Lucien lower the knife, clawing back his hair with a quiet exhale.