❖ QUEENKILLER, KINGMAKER Book 2 ❖
A year has passed since Isla rescued Tam Mai from the dungeons, but her sister's mind is still trapped and broken. There is only one person Isla knows can help her.
Meanwhile across the sea, a prince seeks justice f...
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Dhvani's trial was held in the public audience chamber. Her seat had been set in the heart of the room, right between the outstretched breccia wings drooping from the high ceiling above; right where she would gaze directly up into the eyes of the great capradon, its head chiselled into the wall behind the dais, its many-branched horns curving into the ceiling, its ivory beak eclipsing Judhistir in his throne.
Of course Dhvani chose not to appear in her own trial, so the Rama stared now at an empty stump chair. But the entire city made up for her absence. Commonfolk from the anterior ring, merchants from the posterior, nobleborn guests visiting the palatial ring—everyone had come to attend the hearing. All three sets of the chamber's titanic doors had been thrown open and crowds spilled over the massive hall outside, down the palace steps, and out into the courtyard.
Only select guests were permitted into the chamber itself. They fanned the empty dogwood chair on cushions upon the marble floor; Dhvani's daughters right at the forefront, Omana Obusirjan wedged between them, and Djuro Obusirjan behind.
'So Rajini Dhvani is responsible for the death of several dhayang.' Khaisan slouched back in his seat, right of Judhistir's throne, not even attempting to mask his disinterest. 'That does not mean she, too, is responsible for Rajini Amarin's death. Her lust for theurgy drove her to taking all those innocent dhayang—what motive could she have for killing your mother?'
They had just heard from the runesmith, whose testimony came in exchange for lenience in his own sentencing. Kiet knew the answer Khaisan was fishing for. Too bad Dhvani was not there to provide it.
'Her motives are quite irrelevant at this stage; nor is there any use in speculating, so I'll offer no such thing. I am here only to present evidence.'
The runesmith was only the opening; the introduction to Dhvani's long history of deception and violence. Proof of Dhvani's penchant to murder for personal gain. Kiet's mother was not the first Dhvani had killed, but hopefully she will be her last.
He called forth a string of servants—the head steward of Dhvani's estates, her former captain of guards, her personal chambermaid—but none knew where the rajini had been during the attacks that night. The last her chambermaid had seen, Dhvani had been rushing out of her study.
'And that had been before or after you felt the tremors in the ground?'
The young lady shook when she answered. 'Before, maharaj. Maybe a half hour later was when I felt the first shakes.'
'And afterwards? Did you see the rajini again?'
'No, maharaj.'
Kiet turned to the dais. 'Does the Bench have any questions for her?'
'No, I have no questions for her.' Khaisan drawled. 'I am not interested in speaking to people who did not see the rajini during the time of the murder! Or will you next call the washwives of the anterior ring to speak?'
