Remnant of Power

Chapter Twenty-five

Yavenna

Yavenna woke up and realized she had two days left before the wedding.

"Mistress, it's late and you've missed breakfast. Aunt Breanna has just knocked on the door to see where you are. She's waiting outside to eat lunch with you."

Yavenna climbed out of bed, and went to wash her face. She took the yellow silk dress Sharva was holding out for her, wishing she could put it on and be pleased with how it looked on her. Would she have a lifetime of trying to wear the most horrible clothes she could find to try and make herself look dull and unattractive to the King? She loved colours and making things match together.

"Smile, mistress, you look so unhappy. Remember how much Tarhasta needs this marriage. This is a wonderful thing you're going to do."

Well, it didn't feel wonderful to her. Yavenna trudged out of the door and tried to smile at Aunt Breanna.

"Good afternoon, my dear. That dress looks very pretty on you. It's nice to see you're making an effort for the King. Take my hand then." They walked slowly down the staircase. Yavenna noticed the windows of the staircase were open, she could hear a lot of noise from the city. There was also a strange metallic smell. She couldn't help but sniff loudly.

Aunt Breanna cackled. "Yes, it's a strong smell, isn't it?" She turned her head to look at the Princess. "Did you hear anything last night, my dear?"

"What sort of thing?" Yavenna wasn't really paying attention.

"A terrible, wicked thing. An awful crime was committed. Well, a series of awful crimes, by many men."

Yavenna frowned. What on earth was the woman talking about? Was anyone hurt? Whatever she was talking about, it sounded serious.

"There was a rebellion against the King. Men came in from outside the city and killed the prison guards. All of the prisoners were set free." She laughed. "Well, apart from the men outside." A harsh sound burst from her lips, like a crow of triumph. As she lifted her arm to gesture to the window, she caught Yavenna's arm on one of her long, pointed nails.

Wincing, Yavenna bobbed her head to look out of a stairway window as a waft of the acrid smell blew into her face. She realized what it was and her heart froze in her chest. Blood. In the square outside, a jagged line of ten gibbets had been erected. Each held a body swaying slightly in the gentle afternoon breeze. Ten men were dead on the orders of the man who was to be her husband in two days. This afternoon ten families would look up to the gallows and see their loved one gone, now only an empty shell. Yavenna squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands as anguish choked her heart.

"What's up with you girl? Not squeamish are you...?"

Yavenna didn't hear the rest of Breanna's words. One terrifying thought suddenly blocked the whole of her brain. Her heartbeat pounded like a drum in her ears. Mal! She had to check the faces of the men. What if Mal was now hanging on a gibbet? Last night, Mal told her he was going to the prison. Breanna said the rebellion had happened around the prison. That couldn't be a coincidence. Yavenna shoved past Breanna and shot up three stairs to look out of the window. Pushing back the pane of glass she stuck her head right out.

"Princess Yavenna! You need to learn some manners. What are you doing...?"

Yavenna ignored her. She squinted her eyes into the afternoon sun, looking at the men one by one. After a few seconds, her shoulders dropped. She looked at the men again, more slowly. She breathed. Mal wasn't there. She turned around.