This is the last chapter of the main story, but several followup scenes will be posted as small epilogues.
Lady Lioness
Chapter Sixteen: Part Two
When Thom fell to the ground, Roger looked as stunned as Alanna felt.
Red hair. The doll might have red hair, but that hair hadn't come from Alanna's head, and by Roger's own admission the focus didn't carry her blood.
The magic separating Roger and Alanna from the rest of the ballroom dissipated even as Alanna's hand clenched around her pendant. Orange magic was wrapped entirely around her brother, constricting him as if a hand had come from nowhere, but there was something wrong with the edges of Roger's Gift. Instead of the clean borders she would have suspected, the ribbons of magic blurred into unsteady shapes.
One of the hangings against the wall had been ripped aside, but most people in the ballroom didn't notice George and Numair emerging from thin air seconds later. They were staring at Alanna's twin, who was rapidly paling even as his screams faded to quiet noises that were worse than screaming.
"Stop it!" Alanna shrieked, hardly believing her voice could be so shrill against the murmur of panicked voice. "You're killing him!"
Roger wouldn't miss his opportunity. "You know what I want, Alanna."
Alanna couldn't agree. Even if Thom could live, when she could see the life draining from him in fast degrees, it wouldn't end with this. The next time she rebelled against Roger's tyranny, it could be anyone. Roger had been willing to kill Raoul to start a war, and had arranged the death of Sir Gareth the Elder for that same purpose. He had already made it clear that he understood the depth of Alanna's feelings for George, and Roger had tried to pin his crimes on Numair—Numair, who knew just what Roger had done to Prince Jonathan.
Even as her heart broke, Alanna knew her answer.
"Never," she hissed, staring directly into Roger's mad eyes. "I will never marry you! You're a monster, Roger, and I know that you killed Prince Jonathan. The sweating sickness was your creation!"
Arram Draper's resurrection from apparent death had drawn no attention until Arram himself spoke up. "I can swear to it under a truth spell," Numair said clearly, facing the shock of an entire room. "Roger and Ozorne together modified the old scourge to kill healers, as no natural fever would."
Beside Numair, George had Lightning casually slung back against his shoulder. "The boy speaks the truth, Roger, and you know it. There's nothing right in the way that you encouraged Lianne's death along with your focuses and tricks, even like the focus killing Squire Thom even as we speak."
Roger's tight grip on the focus eased instinctively, leaving the orange Gift to fade away. Thayet was already kneeling beside the downed man, and her hand was clenched tightly around his. "King Roger of Conté aided in driving Sarain to civil war, with the full cooperation of my father, Adigun jin Wilima."
The white-haired woman at Thayet's shoulder was the next to speak. "The diplomacy office has long been aware of communications between King Roger and the radical fringes of the Bazhir," Ilane of Mindelan said calmly. "I believe we can prove beyond a doubt that his majesty drove Akhnan ibn Nazzir to this evening's assassination attempt on Raoul of Goldenlake."
From the side of the hall, Raoul stood with Gareth of Naxen, looking every inch the storybook knight. "Nazzir has already confessed that the then-Duke drove him to create the unbound Gate of Idramm, and that he was unaware that his tribe would die along with Sir Gareth the Elder," Raoul said clearly, rage clear in his expression.
"Deaths lie at your feet, your majesty, and the creation or use of focuses has been banned since 217 of the Human Era," Myles added, standing tall with Eleni Cooper again at his side.
"King Roger threatened my infant son," Duke Baird called across the ballroom, nodding to the small boy sleeping in his mother's arms. "He thought to drive me away from the alliance of nobles that knew of his treachery, though we had no proof until tonight."
Liam Ironarm wore the simplest of clothes suitable for court, but he was the equal to any lord there. "The Shang take no sides in politics as a rule, but we stand together against Roger of Conté as an offense against the very world."
Roger had no allies left, with Thom nearly comatose on the ground, but he had met the clamor of accusations with a calm demeanor. "Be as it may, your charges hold no ground."
"You have a focus in your very hand, Roger," Alanna countered. "I swear in the Goddess's name, the world will never forget your name. You will be known as the vile creature you are, and here is my offer. Surrender now to justice, and you may yet keep your head."
"I'll take my chances," Roger snarled, even as the entirety of the court was against him. "Will you, Alanna? I still hold your brother's life in my hands."
"You'll always hold someone's life in your hands, Roger. Your reign ends tonight, with or without your threats." There were tears in her eyes as she spoke. It was all too likely that Thom's death would follow those words.
Madmen would never be swayed by logic. "Let's see, then," he said calmly, and in the next moment the doll was on fire.
Alanna snatched the flaming doll away from Roger, not caring that her hand burned, but it was already too late. Roger's laugh put chills down her spine, and she knew even before she could reach her brother that the fire had done its work. Thom's shocked gasps had faded before the first of her magic could touch him.
Roger's magic kept everyone at bay, even as every knight in the hall tried to reach him. Alanna knew that it was already too late even before Roger gathered the last of his magic into a spell meant to destroy both her and her brother.
Alanna could see Roger's magic arcing toward both of them, but she couldn't defend herself without losing Thom. Thom's pulse was fluttering beneath her hand, even as he looked like one who had already died. The stream of her magic pouring into her brother was keeping him alive, and Thayet's near-wordless pleading could barely keep the remnants of Thom's attention.
Just when she thought that she was gone, with Thom and Thayet besides, the blaze of orange faded to nothing. She blinked the brilliant afterlights away from her eyes, but couldn't see anything even as she heard a dull thud. When she could see again, Roger's body was crumpling to the ground, following the severed head that had already hit the ballroom floor.
Behind the king, George stood with Lightning in hand and no remorse on his face.
Alanna threw the last of her magic into Thom, and thumped him on the shoulder when he regained color and breath all at once. "You're never to do something that stupidly noble again," Alanna warned her brother before running to George's side. No matter that Roger had been accused of any number of crimes, regicide would have her best friend executed.
The Lord Provost was walking toward them with no emotion visible on his face when something erupted into brilliance in the space between Alanna and George.
She had never seen the deity before, but she knew without a doubt that she was looking into Mithros' eyes.
The dark-skinned god surveyed the hall, finding which people averted their eyes and which peered past the brilliance of his golden armor and the burning white tip of his spear. "My pawns' work is done," he proclaimed, lending facets of his glory to both George and Alanna. "Let Roger's legacy be known, and let it be famed what will happen to those who take crowns by deceit, but never his name."
"So mote it be," Alanna replied on instinct.
Somehow, she was sure that no one else but George saw the god's wink or the expression that looked entirely out of place on Mithros' serious face before the god vanished in another burst of pure light. She was certain that no one but George heard Kyprioth's whisper into her ear. "I told you, sweetheart, I want your kid and I want that child with Cooper's contributions. So get on it, I won't wait forever."
Alanna's blush could be attributed to the god's proclamation, but there was time for more than one type of declaration. She pulled George close with half of the court looking on, and kissed him in a way that left no doubt about her attentions.
After a moment of completely obvious shock, George kissed her back, and propriety was entirely forgotten in favor of very new and pleasant feelings.
The pair of them only stopped when someone politely cleared his throat behind them. As one, they turned to find the Lord Provost.
The Provost's lips were twitching in a barely repressed smile. "Master Cooper, we meet at last. Given your obvious protection by such an entity, I must be forced to assume that your previous… efforts… were a part of some grand plan I cannot comprehend.
"My compliments on keeping order within such an organization, but I must insist that you have no more criminal dealings."
George looked from the Provost to Alanna. "I think I could find reasons t' retire," he said politely, aware of the entire hall's attention. "After such excitement, a man could find retirement a pleasure." He kept his arm around Alanna's shoulders as he and his long-time opponent in George's own game shook hands.
The Lord Provost looked to Roger's corpse. "That does leave us with one small dilemma." He delicately kicked the crown away from the head before the spreading pool of blood could mar the gold. "I don't believe that he will require such an article at his funeral."
The light kick should have sent the crown only five paces at most, but the night had one last portent to offer. The golden crown rolled across the entirety of the hall to rest at the feet of Sir Gareth of Naxen.