Midnight Moon

Chapter 13 - Murmurs in Court

For the first time, Palimara's throne felt cold. The tree, carefully sculpted as it grew to the shape of a chair, was varnished and cushioned, but now it might as well have been made of ice.

She had been numb since that terrible day when her daughter stepped into the palace gardens and never walked back again. She felt nothing but the worst sensations: cold, despair, fear. Anger.

She ran her fingers over the knots in the armrest, deaf to the court before her. They weren't there for her. This throne wasn't for her, wasn't for her family. The grander throne to her right, inlaid with gold and emeralds, was the important one. Koan sat in it now, as his family always would. If she chose, she could take that throne if her husband could no longer reign, but that was not her place, not her birthright. She was only a placeholder; this generation's consort, to be replaced when Veanna wore the crown with her own husband or wife beside her.

Palimara refused to think about the throne on the other side of Koan, hollow since Veanna vanished. She refused to remember how long it took them to fill it, refused to consider the notion it would never be filled again.

Many eyes were drawn to that throne, and questions mounted about the supposed illness they feigned for her absence - first asking out of politeness, now progressing to genuine worry. But how could they admit that they had failed to protect their only child?

She blinked back tears and focused on the court, desperate for anything to claim her attention. Her glassy gaze passed over the lords and ladies clustered in cliques, the soldiers clad in green and the guards in gold, the line of subjects waiting for an audience with the King. Normally she would have listened, would have weighed in and counselled her husband along with his advisors, but she did not have the heart for it. What was the point when nothing would solve her greatest concern? Their petty problems were nothing to her pain. Guilt twisted her stomach, but the thought lingered.

It was disconcerting to see others going about their business as normal - puffed chests indicated recent promotions or commendations, pointed comments and snide glares suggested noble rivalries, lingering glances and breathless whispers betrayed blooming romances. It was unfair that everyone else's lives continued when hers had been torn apart in the space of one autumn afternoon. The world should have stopped, the kingdom should have been on their knees weeping for their lost Princess.

Palimara turned her gaze to Koan. Even after so long, in the midst of emotion and in front of prying eyes, the sight of him was enough to spread warmth through her chest. The strain of the past weeks was showing, in tired eyes and hollow cheeks and marbling hair. But he was still hers, still strong, still here.

Not that their marriage was an eternal paradise. She missed her home, her family, her country. Patience was required for the rough Levean accent; the endless, monotonous farmlands; and the overbearing, tiresome politeness. She had lost her family name for his, changed her allegiances in the space of a day, even replaced her wardrobe to match their pointless love for flowers. She missed the sea, the way the sparkle of the sun on the waves would turn from rubies to diamonds and back again as the day passed.

Veanna had never been out to sea, never stepped onto a boat for longer than a ceremonial procession down a river. Palimara had always wanted to share that joy with her daughter. Perhaps now she never would.

"Your Majesty, I bring terrible news!"

Maybe it was the distress in the voice, or the volume of the words, or the fear struck into her heart, but Palimara's attention was held by the newest supplicant to kneel before the thrones.

The woman had umber skin and thick hair that danced as she knelt, the long sleeves of her dress trailing on the floor. When she lifted her head, her eyes shone and her lips were pinched. Whispers rippled out from the centre of the hall.

Koan leant forward, a frown breaking his calm expression. He waved for the woman to stand, and her hand fluttered at her neck as she rose.

"Your Majesty - your Majesties," she added, sending a small curtsey towards Palimara, "I have heard grave rumours about the Princess!"

Palimara choked, her heart seizing. She fought to restrain her distress and in the corner of her eye, Koan likewise tensed, his hands gripping the arms of his throne.

"What have you heard?" he asked, his composed countenance betrayed by his clipped words.

"That she's missing, of course!" The woman glanced between the royals then to the single empty throne, as whispers erupted again. "There are rumours that she is ill, but if that is true then what I have heard is of no use."

Palimara couldn't tell whether there was a sly look in the woman's eye, or whether it was a trick of the light. She was probably just being paranoid. Yet they had wondered whether someone at court could be involved in Veanna's disappearance...

Koan didn't rise to the bait, waving a hand with thinly veiled impatience. "Tell us what you have heard."

The woman's eyebrows rose. "But I do not want to distress your Majesties if the Princess is indeed in her chambers. The news I bring is not pleasant, and I would hate to put images in your minds if they are untrue."

Definitely sly. Koan's clenched jaw suggested he thought the same, but they were trapped by the now rapt audience.

"Yes," he admitted begrudgingly through gritted teeth. "The Princess is missing."

The reaction could barely be called whispers. It was as though a thousand birds flew through the court, all heads turning to gossip before gazes were drawn inexorably back to the thrones.

Palimara's eyes stayed on the woman. She didn't look dismayed or surprised by the reaction; if anything, triumph shone in her eyes. If her job was to be discrete, she wasn't doing it well. Or maybe she had already completed her goal and now basked in the chaos she set in motion.

Palimara reached out and touched her husband's hand. Façades and evasions were gone in the face of this new trial. Koan gripped her fingers in return, and she could feel his gratitude as his thumb skated across her knuckles.

He glanced at her and swallowed, his eyes roving over her expression. They had weathered many obstacles through the years, but the disappearance of their daughter was one of the hardest yet. They would have many more challenges to contend with now the news was out.

Plus whatever new horror this woman was about to bestow.

Koan squeezed her hand again and turned to the court once more. For better or worse, they had to know. "What have you heard?"

The woman's eyes were hooded and unreadable. "There are rumours about an Outlander, your Majesty."