The Way We Fall

Chapter 126 (Tigris)

Tigris stared at the regal double doors in front of her, stretching well over her head to the cathedral style roof. She kept her face placid, mindful of the guards standing guard at the doors even as her mind raced.

"Enter!" the king's voice echoed through the doors.

Tigris steeled herself, uncurling her spine to her full height. She nodded to the guards, and the doors swung open. She stepped inside.

Left foot. Right foot. She watched her steps careful, making sure the gown Roche had nervously fitted her with wouldn't snag on the stiletto heels. Now, Tigris wished she'd stayed in her training leathers and flat soled boots, something that made her feel more steady. Her feet wobbled traitorously under her as she walked into the filled throne room.

A few delegates from the Tselts lined the path, standing stonily amongst the murmuring Faultless courtiers. Their eyes flickered between Tigris and the king. Tigris' palms began to sweat as she neared the dais.

A throne that had sat vacant for nearly two decades was now filled by the slender figure of Lady Lisa. The woman wore a silver circlet that played with the light and shadows of her face. It looked elegant. She would have looked regal, if not for the mocking, disapproving smile on her face.

Beside her, the king watched as Tigris dipped into a curtsy that made the world tremble.

"You sent for me, my lord?" Tigris murmured, keeping her chin tucked deferentially. Trying to hold the last shred of her father's respect.

"I did," the king said. His voice was measured, simmering with an emotion Tigris didn't want to think about. His ice blue eyes, the same shade as Aodh's but somehow even colder, bored into hers. "I heard that you refused to collect taxes from the upper and lower towns today as you were ordered to."

The words were clipped and annoyed. Tigris swallowed, lifting her gaze enough to see Lisa smirk a bit. What was the inkblood playing at? How would she use this to warp her father's mind?

Tigris considered her words carefully, like the man before her was a political adversary and not her father.

"I fully intend to collect the taxes, my lord," Tigris replied as regally and respectfully as she could. She kept her expression open, even as the skin of her face felt too tight with the anxiety filling her. From the corner of her eye, she saw Aodh slipping into the crowd, his face pale and worried. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to focus on her father's darkening face. "I wanted to gather some clarification first regarding the tax hike."

Lisa scoffed at the king's side. "There's not much to it, now is there? All you have to do is collect the coins!"

Tigris gritted her teeth, but forced a pleasant expression to her face. "Apologies, my lady," Tigris managed to reply, even as her jaw locked, like it didn't want the words to come out of her mouth, "But I wanted to see if there was a different rate for the lower town than the upper town. We've implemented such tax rates in the past."

"Well, this is not one of those times," the king snorted, "The lower town must pay for what they have broken. Skip the upper town, they shouldn't have to pay for someone else's mistakes."

The Tseltan delegates murmured to each other in confusion at the callous words. Tigris felt sweat drip down her back. Oh gods, her father had abandoned all common sense if he was talking this way in front of the delegates.

She tried to appeal to what little logic he had left. "I believe that collecting taxes next week might be more fruitful, my lord. The lower towns will have more money-"

"That's just their excuse!" the king grumbled offhandedly. Tigris felt the blood drain from her face as she noticed the Tseltan delegates and some of the courtiers exchanging nervous looks. What kind of king didn't care for his people in need?