The Death of a Tyrant's Concubine

CHAPTER 13 - Punishment

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The air was heavy near the emperor's quarters. Tents triple the size of Clover's accommodations towered around the scene, black and green banners waving in the sunlight. A circle of spectators had gathered, concubines, servants, and guards alike. Their anxious whispers drifted through the clearing like the breeze combing through the oak forest surrounding us.

Talia knelt at the center of it all, her frail figure trembling as tears streaked her cheeks. Her mousy brown hair hung in damp, disheveled strands, and her faded green dress crumpled around her.

My hand clenched tightly around Raincatcher's hilt at the sight before me. I sheathed my dagger at my waist to stop myself from committing treason.

Three shadows loomed over her — the Nightshades. At their forefront stood Isolde Flarewyn. A black cloak lined with gleaming bronze draped over her shoulders, mirroring the opulence of her gown.

"I will not allow His Majesty to be so brazenly insulted," she sneered, green eyes narrowed.

"The only insult here is you!" Virella's voice rang out. She stepped between the Nightshades and Talia, a lioness shielding her cub.

"And how, pray tell, is Lady Isolde to blame?" another Nightshade asked mockingly.

Bronwyn Blacksteel stood nearby, a whip already in hand, and black eyes glinting with sadistic amusement. Her gown billowed around her, dark and fluid, while golden plates were artfully incorporated as both armor and ornament.

She had been a formidable foe in my first life, a woman whose knightly lineage lent her brute strength and a talent for warfare.

Yet, she was also the easiest to overthrow among the three — the woman I replaced as Nightshade in my first life.

Virella squared her shoulders.

"Shall I list Lady Isolde's transgressions in alphabetical order?" she retorted.

I stepped into the fray before Virella's words could turn too sharp.

"You're all overstepping your authority," I declared.

All three Nightshades turned to face me.

Cerys Palewynd, the silent specter among them, regarded me with empty blue eyes.

"With the emperor gone," she said, her voice as soft as snow, "the Nightshades hold the highest authority. Lady Talia is accused of conspiring against His Majesty."

I surveyed the scene carefully. Though Talia cried her eyes out, there were no marks on her. The Nightshades had no proof... yet. If they did, Talia would already be bleeding.

"And what exactly has she done?" I asked.

Isolde tossed a handkerchief at my feet, its edges fluttering like a dead leaf. The embroidered unicorn in its center was unmistakable.

"She dared to stitch this," Isolde spat, her tone venomous.

I stared down at the cloth, my mind working to find the supposed crime, but it eluded me. The unicorn, pure and white amidst a tapestry of wildflowers, was flawless. If anything, my mutilated canary was a greater act of treason.

Isolde's lips twisted into a predatory smile.

"The crest of Flynmoore's fallen kingdom, stitched so brazenly," she sneered, turning to Talia as if ready to devour her. "Tell me, Lady Talia, did you think we wouldn't notice your little tribute to your rebellious forebears?"

Talia's voice broke as she sobbed.

"I never intended to resemble Flynmoore's crest. It's just a unicorn..."