The Lady Justice

Chapter XLIX: The End of the Beginning

11 December, Year 32 of King Frederick V of Monrique's reign

Western Bordeux Dungeons, Bordeux

Monrique

A small sprig of ivy continues to revolve above them, slowly, constantly.

Tears are silently streaming down the Archery Mistress' cheeks. "There was so much blood. He was bleeding so much," she is shaken, "I...I could not believe what I had done." She sounds revolted with herself.

The Duchess stares at her. "Is he...is he dead?"

"I was told that he lives, but that he has yet to regain his consciousness," her voice wavers, "the Physicians are not entirely certain if he ever will." It breaks.

"It was not your fault, Harrington," her friend tells her gently, "you were only trying to defend yourself."

"I know, but..." she sniffles, "the fact remains that I hurt him, and I feel horrible about it. The Queen would not even let me see him once, for fear I would try again and succeed in killing him."

The Duchess frowns. "Did you not tell her it was an accident?"

"She does not believe me."

"Because she already despises you from before?" her lips thin into an angry line.

"Aye, I think so," the Archery Mistress agrees, grieved, "but you must think about it from her perspective as well. I reached Amöneburg Palace that night, dragging a barely conscious Natalya and her completely unconscious son, with my dagger plunged into his side. Anyone in her place would have assumed the worst."

"I understand, but she still should have given you a chance to at least explain," the Duchess scowls, "did the Emperor not try to stop her from arresting you?"

"His Imperial Majesty may be an Emperor, but he is not my Emperor," she answers quietly, "he cannot stop a sovereign from doing what she wants with her subject. However, he can arrest the Pleasure Housekeeper and her men for attacking and injuring members of the royal family - and he did just that."

The Duchess nods. The pair grow lost in their thoughts, each taking a different direction. While the Archery Mistress dwells upon the love she was forced to leave behind in Amöneburg, the Duchess had other concerns.

"Who is Derik?"

The Archery Mistress blinks. "Pardon?"

"You mentioned Dela thought that someone named Derik had entered the room when you confronted them," she replies, musing, "who is this Derik? Why were Prince Richard and Dela expecting him?"

"I do not know," her friend shakes her head, "one of the many, many things that I do not know. Hell, I do not even know for certain if he and Dela were sleeping together in the first place."

"You believe Dela," the Duchess observes.

"I do," she admits, "but it means nothing. Richard, that fucking idiot, has made such a mess of things that I am more confused now than I was before I went there to confront him."

She remains silent for a moment, before shaking her head. "Even now, I still cannot understand what he wants," she blows a breath through her lips, "by God, I am so tired of it all."

The Duchess pats her knee. "I suppose you will have to make peace with your past without your answers, then, Harrington."

"For what?" her friend laughs humourlessly.

The Duchess is taken aback by the pain in her voice. "So that you can look towards your future with the Emperor, of course, like Princess Natalya said," she frowns, "you are in love with each other, are you not?"