A Brother's Testimony
Chapter 11 - A Brother's Testimony
Chancellor Varrick called an emergency council before noon.
He claimed the king had become unstable after discovering forged documents planted by Rowan Ashford. He accused Elara of pretending to be the lost princess in order to seize the throne.
The council chamber filled with nobles, generals, bishops, and representatives from the western counties.
Aldren sat beneath the royal crest without his crown.
Elara stood beside Lord Vale, who had been carried in on a chair. Rowan remained under guard, though the king had refused Varrick’s demand to put him in chains.
Varrick presented letters describing a plan to remove Aldren and install Elara as queen.
Every letter bore Rowan’s signature.
Then Lord Lucian Ashford entered.
Rowan’s older brother wore the black robes of a council peer. He did not look at Rowan.
Varrick asked him one question.
“Do you recognize your brother’s hand?”
Lucian examined the letters.
“Yes.”
A wave of whispers swept the room.
Rowan stared at him. “Look at me.”
Lucian kept his eyes on the parchment.
“Did I write those letters?”
“You wrote to me from exile,” Lucian said.
“That was not my question.”
Lucian’s mouth tightened. “The handwriting is yours.”
It was enough for half the council.
Varrick demanded Rowan’s execution and Elara’s confinement until her blood claim could be disproved. He argued that the kingdom could not survive another night of uncertainty.
Then Elara stepped into the center of the chamber.
“Ask Lord Lucian about the paper.”
Varrick frowned.
She held up one of the forged letters. “My father’s confession was written on palace stock. So was mine. This paper carries a watermark used only by the chancellor’s office.”
Lucian’s eyes flickered toward her.
Varrick recovered quickly. “Official paper is stored throughout the palace.”
“Then let us inspect your copyists’ records.”
“They were destroyed in last night’s attack.”
“How fortunate.”
A few councilors laughed nervously.
Varrick’s face hardened. “This is not theater.”
“No,” Elara said. “The theater was putting a wooden mask over a woman so no one could see the king was marrying his own daughter.”
The chamber erupted.
Aldren closed his eyes.
Varrick pointed at Elara. “She has no proof of blood.”
Lord Vale raised one trembling hand. “The midwife lives.”
Everyone turned.
“She was sent to the convent at Briar Glen,” he said. “Varrick believed she died during the winter plague.”
Varrick’s composure cracked.
Only slightly.
But Lucian saw it.
The council postponed judgment until the midwife could be brought to the capital. Varrick stormed from the chamber.
That night, Lucian came to Rowan’s cell.
“I am sorry,” he said.
Rowan did not rise.
Lucian placed a small brass key between the bars.
“Varrick has my wife and son,” he whispered. “He promised to kill them if I denied the letters.”
“Where are they?”
“I do not know. But I know where he keeps the account ledger.”
Rowan picked up the key.
May you like
Lucian leaned closer.
“Under the empty granary,” he said. “And he knows Elara is going there.”
