chapter 73- twin chaos #3
She had already accepted being carried upside down as entertainment, and now she stretched one hand toward Elias's sleeve, trying to catch the glitter drifting from the fabric each time he moved. Her fingers closed around nothing. More silver dust fell between them and scattered across the floor.
I watched it settle.
Slowly.
Far too much of it.
The glitter had reached the steps beneath the throne, the edge of the center aisle, and several unfortunate guards who stood near enough to be contaminated without daring to move.
I exhaled.
"How," I asked carefully, "did this happen?"
Elias turned toward me.
His expression suggested I had personally approved the design, supplied the materials, and ordered the attack.
"They exploded glitter."
Veronica folded her arms.
"Technically, the container exploded."
I looked toward her.
"Technically."
"Yes."
Elias's voice rose.
Lysandra smiled.
Proud.
Entirely satisfied with herself.
There was no shame in her face. No regret. Only the serene confidence of a child who believed the operation had succeeded exactly as intended.
I turned toward Veronica.
"You taught her."
Veronica lifted one shoulder.
"I explained basic mechanics."
Elias stared down at himself.
At the glitter coating his coat.
His sleeves.
His boots.
Each breath sent another faint cloud into the air.
"You call this basic?"
"No one was injured."
"My dignity was injured."
Lysandra made a dismissive sound.
"You did not have much."
The courtroom went still for half a breath.
Then Elias inhaled.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
The kind of breath a man took when reminding himself that murdering a child before witnesses created paperwork.
He lowered his gaze toward her.
"You little creep."
Lysandra smiled wider.
"Old pirate."
"Demon."
"Cyclops."
"Court parasite."
"Freak of nature."
I leaned my head against the back of the throne, turning my head to look toward Ophelia.
She was no help.
She had placed both hands over her mouth, though laughter continued escaping through her fingers.
I lowered my gaze toward Elias again.
"Put them down."
His grip tightened.
"No."
Lysandra looked offended.
"You heard the emperor."
"He is weak."
"I will remember this."
"You remember everything. That is half the problem."
"Put them down."
Elias finally bent.
He lowered Elowen first.
She landed on her feet, swayed from the change in position, and Lysandra was placed beside her.
She immediately straightened.
Not merely stood.
Straightened.
She smoothed the front of her clothes, brushed glitter from one sleeve, and lifted her chin with the dignity of someone who had not spent the previous several minutes hanging upside down while threatening an elderly man.
She looked at Elias.
"When I am queen, I will deal with you."
He bent slightly so their faces were closer.
"You can try."
"I will succeed."
"You need someone to cut your meat."
"Palace knives are unnecessarily dull."
"Because you can't be trusted since you threatened to stab me with it."
"I was five."
"That was last year."
Lysandra looked away.
I stared at both of them.
"One day."
Neither listened.
I sat forward.
"One day."
The room quieted.
Lysandra finally looked toward me.
Elowen smiled.
That smile was usually a warning.
"I asked for one day," I said, "where none of you broke, burned, exploded, flooded, released, trained, or secretly constructed anything inside my palace."
Lysandra looked toward Elowen. Elowen looked toward Veronica. Veronica looked toward the ceiling. That exchange revealed additional crimes. I chose not to ask.
"Was that too much?"
Elowen frowned.
"How are we supposed to have fun?"
"Walk."
She blinked.
"Walk?"
"Yes."
"Outside?"
"Yes."
"Without doing anything?"
"You may speak."
"To whom?"
"Each other."
Lysandra looked horrified.
"That sounds like punishment." Elowen considered the suggestion. Then shook her head. "No."
I stared at her.
She smiled sweetly.
Something inside me gave way.
"Do anything that does not involve destroying my kingdom."
Lysandra folded her arms.
"My kingdom."
I turned toward her.
The court became very still.
"It will be your kingdom when you no longer crawl into our bed because you had a nightmare."
Her face changed.
Pure betrayal.
The kind only a child could manage.
She looked toward Ophelia as though expecting intervention.
Then back at me.
"That was private."
"You announced succession publicly."
"You used my fear against me."
"Yes."
She shook her head slowly.
"Low."
I leaned back.
"You threatened to execute Elias."
"That was justice."
"Even for you, Father," she continued, "that was a low blow." I covered my face again. The gods had refused to give me normal children. That was the only reasonable explanation. I had seen other noble children.
They bowed.
They spoke quietly. They appeared in court wearing clean clothes and did not threaten at least one relative before noon. Mine built explosives. Mine debated ownership of the empire while covered in glitter. Mine believed walking without destruction qualified as cruelty.
"Why," I muttered, "could the gods not bless me with normal children?"