Chapter 40
Vekatha. Therxian’s eyes narrowed on the thin, miserable female coiled within her cell.
A deep green of flourishing life, she may once have been considered a beauty within the shinara before her imprisonment.
Within the confines, her scales were showing signs of losing their luster, and her gavo lay flattened in disarray around her as her head hung.
As her body was turned away from him, he could not quite see what she was studying so intently on the floor in front of her, but whatever it was, it had her whole attention.
“Therxian, son of Zathexa, the high queen, is here to meet with you, Vekatha. You had agreed to see him,” the captain reminded her.
A hiss of laughter escaped the female, her wings twitching as her tail slithered slowly around her over the cell floor.
“I am imprisoned, not senile. I do not need the reminders, Jathella.” The female slowly turned her head, pinning them with a narrowed stare as she peered at Jathella for a moment before turning the weight of her golden gaze to Therxian.
Her mouth cracked a cold smile, and her dark green tail glided along the floor as she slowly turned him.
“Eldest son of Zathexa. So... you have returned. Interesting.”
Therxian studied her. This was the female who had pursued and falsely implicated Slengral. Even now, in her imprisonment, she showed no remorse for her willful actions that had nearly gotten Lori killed.
“Vekatha,” he replied, keeping his greeting brief. Noble of birth or not, she was no longer worthy of receiving more than that. “I find it more interesting that you are still alive.”
“Alive?” She gave a hollow laugh and retreated back on her coiled tail. “Only if you consider this some manner of living. But you are right. I am certainly not dead. My cousin, Payeri, was at least given that kindness. As for me... I am to be the example.”
“Your mother pled for you,” he reminded her.
“My mother is a fool,” the female retorted. “Too sentimental to realize that this existence is a slow, inescapable death. Or perhaps she believes that I will be redeemed.” She scoffed quietly to herself as she stared into the distance, her gavo twitching faintly.
“Zathexa?” he queried, and she barked a bitter laugh.
“Not even familial bonds can sway the high queen. Even my mother is not so foolish. She knew for many revolutions that Queen Zathexa would not support her close mother-kin to rise to the throne, regardless of how worthy. Not after the incident.”
Therxian glanced curiously over at Jathella. “Of what incident does she speak?”
Vekatha cackled with laughter before the captain could answer. “You do not know?” Her gaze gleamed with vicious humor as her eyes turned to Jathella. “You let him enter the palace without knowing about the tangled. bloody history of his own mother-nest?”
The captain stiffened. “You are mistaken if you believe that I am privy to the affairs of the royal family enough to comment on them.”
“But you do know,” Vekatha challenged as she wound on her tail toward her. “Your mother was the close personal guard to the young queen. She would have seen it all with her own eyes. She would have told you just as my mother told me. You know how it happened... how her mate died.”
Jathella stiffened, her gaze darting to Therxian uneasily. “Of course. He was caught alone and murdered.”
“It was more than just murder. It was betrayal,” she hissed.
She drew back with a smile and giggled shrilly.
“Her own sister did it. Though younger, Yilada showed promise in her decisiveness. She did not wait to mate, like Zathexa—who desired a mating of hearts. Yilada attended the haga shortly after coming of age and selected the best of the males.” Vekatha’s tail rolled leisurely as the female savored the story-telling.
Therxian’s gavo flattened with disgust, but Vekatha’s sharp gaze caught it and her smile widened maliciously.
“She did not wait. She bound him and mated him there in the haga. From that mating, she nested a daughter and reared her well for many revolutions before Zathexa risked the council’s displeasure and joined with the hunter from the upper caverns. ”
His father. He had no memory of the male, and his mother refused to speak of him. Therxian’s eyes narrowed on her speculatively.
“Hunters are not allowed in the shinara,” he growled. “Joining with them in the upper caverns is the only recourse for a female who wishes to breed with a hunter.”
“Precisely,” Vekatha laughed. “But she dared what no other would because by that time her mother had ceded authority to her. Zathexa was queen and would not listen to the counsel of the matriarchs. She brought Vaoon into the palace as her consort-mate, inviting the wrath of the council. Yilada saw her opportunity. She gathered supporters among the council and swayed half to support her, not the least of whom was her own Shel mother-line: her own cousins Shalyia and Zara, whom she appointed Grand Matriarchs to head the court. The mother-lines she swayed to her side all recognized her right to rule.”
“Her right?” Jathella barked a laugh and gestured with velkat toward the female.
“Of course you would speak of it in terms of ‘rights.’ You who believe that you were owed everything by matter of your station—even the son of the queen. Zathexa did not recognize the station Yilada gave her mother. You had no right to anything, nor did Yilada. She was not the heir, and even her own mother did not support her, from what my mother recounted. Instead, she joined the queen in mourning after the passing of her mate. Queen Zathexa might have invited scorn from the council, but Yilada betrayed her sister, committed murder, and incited rebellion!”
Anger flashed across Vekatha’s face. “The shinara should have been turned over to Yilada from the beginning. Yilada did not violate shinara law. Yilada had nested a daughter rather than a mere son. Five times she attempted to sway Zathexa to see reason, and five times she failed.”
“Perhaps Mother saw more potential in the hunters than mere servants in exile destined to feed the shinara. By supporting her own mate, she was making a change that her own mother supported,” Therxian countered.
It was hard to believe that his mother might have considered such revolutionary ideas but could not accept her son having a human mate.
But he knew that years of bitterness could change one.
Had his father lived, her offspring might never have suffered, and she would have welcomed Slengral’s human mate.
Instead, she had become broken by the fear of what going against the council could incur.
She had lived through the loss and continued to live through their fate.
Vekatha huffed derisively, and she turned away, her eyes refocusing on the dark corner of her cell that she had been staring at when they arrived. “Foolishness.”
Impatience flared within him. She was not going to stop there. He wanted to hear all of it. “Continue. You spoke of betrayal. What did she do?”
The female looked over her shoulder, her gold eyes brightening as a look of vicious glee contorted her features.
“Five times asked with the council as witness, and five times dismissed. Only then, and with sufficient supporters in the council, had she dared to act. She formed her plan,” she hissed, drawing close to the edge of her cell.
“She begged her sister for private counsel, knowing Zathexa was soft-hearted and would refuse her kin nothing. She hid her blade well, so that not even the queen’s trusted guard spotted it.
But who would suspect? Yilada was always gracious and even-tempered, a testament to royal breeding in every word and action. ”
“And then?” Therxian demanded.
Vekatha sighed heavily, and she settled back on her coils and withdrew once more into herself. “If only Vaoon had not returned to the royal nest and intervened,” she mumbled, her eyes once more falling to the far corner.
Therxian squinted and then glanced toward the illumination crystal hanging from a hook on the wall beside him.
He hummed, increasing his pitch as the light rapidly gathered.
It was uncomfortable, but the light extended into the dark depths of Vekatha’s cell so that he was able to see the dark marks painted on the far wall.
Jathella immediately bristled at his side.
“The mark of Yilada’s personal crest,” Jathella spat.
She drew away with a snarl of disgust and motioned for Therxian to follow her.
“We will get no more from that one. No doubt she had been poisoned from hatching with this obsessive hatred toward the queen. In any case, the prison warden will be returning soon, and our window is closing.”
Murmuring his agreement, Therxian followed her from the cell. “I am guessing that my father interrupted Yilada’s attempt on her sister’s life. He was scorned by the whole shinara and yet sacrificed himself for his mate and their queen.”
“He died, but he also gave Zathexa the opening to repel her sister’s attack,” Jathella murmured in agreement.
Therxian’s eyes shot to her, and he snapped his gavo angrily. “It is unbelievable. She should have killed the female!”
Jathella dipped her chin and sighed. “It would have been impossible. Not with half the council in opposition to her. To secure peace, she would have to grant clemency and allow her sister to go into exile.”
Silence fell between them as they drew toward the exit, but Vekatha’s laughter filled the void, echoing through the prison.
“She is a foolish, sentimental female. She will let me rot here,” she added, a peculiar sing-song cadence filling her voice.
“But perhaps there is still a chance. Perhaps I will be redeemed. The daughter was hidden. And hidden well. You will never find her—and we will never tell.”
Therxian frowned and turned abruptly, determined to drag the information out of her, but Jathella caught his arm and dipped her chin gravely.
“Do not engage with her further. I know that the queen has personally questioned her and applied force more than once, though no one attended her or knew what line of questioning she applied. My guess is that it was for this exact information if she had foolishly taunted her during an interrogation—and she is that sort, as you have seen. Vekatha’s mind is broken, her body withering and rotting away, but her nature is unchanged. She will keep her secrets, it seems.”
“The council hid her,” he rumbled. “This means that there is a child of Yilada hiding as a daughter of a noble-line.”
“The question is, which one?” Jathella murmured.
Therxian sighed. “More mysteries to unravel. And I still need to educate myself on certain matters if I am going to challenge the council. I am not Zathexa, so I need to be well-prepared. Thankfully, I still have access to the royal library. I can only hope that I shed light on these matters as well.”
Jathella frowned at him. “What is the other mystery?”
“I am not entirely certain,” he admitted. “But it has something to do with one named Luwai.”
“Luwai!” Jathella drew to a sudden stop, startling him as she stared at him in surprise. “Did you say Luwai?”
He snapped his gavo. “I came across the name—”
“Luwai was a Seshanamitesh poet your sister adored. The female went willingly into exile to dwell with her hunter mate she loved when Vorahna was just sixteen revolutions. The poet’s name was stricken from the public works. How do you know of her?”