The Cogsmith's Daughter (Desertera #1)(10)
Lord Varick kept his distance, but he leaned toward her, as if they were two little girls swapping secrets. “My dear, Miss Aya, you and I have something quite horrible in common.”
Aya turned her head ever so slightly to look at Varick out of the corners of her eyes. Sharp pain shot through the right side of her neck. “And that is?”
“We both had the people we loved most in this world murdered by the king.”
Aya’s eyes widened, and she turned her whole body to him. “What are you talking about?”
“Your father. King Archon ordered to have him executed after he failed to repair Prince Lionel’s mechanical pet bird. Did he not?”
Aya felt her body jerk. Her hands gripped the fabric of her skirt. She looked around the room, as if someone might be spying through peepholes. “How do you know that?”
“My dear, everyone knows that. Your father was the last cogsmith in all of Desertera. His death was a huge scandal.”
Aya shook her head in short, harsh twitches. When she finally answered, she did so cautiously, emphasizing every syllable. “They know he was executed for treason, nothing more. Who told you about the bird?”
Varick tapped his forefinger against his nose. “I have my sources, Miss Aya. You’ll find that, while the prince’s bird may be broken, there are plenty of other little birdies in the palace who love to chirp—for the right price.”
Aya pursed her lips, keeping her green eyes focused on Varick’s small black ones. So this Lord Varick was a businessman of sorts, dealing in secrets. But what did he want from her? Aya took the obvious bait, hoping for some clarity. “King Archon killed someone you loved?”
Varick took off his top hat, placing it in his lap. “I am not sure I would say ‘loved,’ as I still love her very much. But, yes, he did. The late Queen Isadona was my daughter.”
Aya cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. “Forgive me, Varick, but King Archon didn’t kill Queen Isadona. She committed adultery, and in accordance with the laws of Desertera, he sentenced her to death. If anything, she killed herself.”
Varick lips twisted into a small smile. “The way your father killed himself by refusing to aid the royal family?”
Aya felt her stomach twist into a knot, and she crossed her arms over it. “I see your point. Go on.”
Varick scooted closer to Aya. “Surely even the common people have noticed that King Archon seems to go through a lot of queens.”
“Well, yes, we have. But you can’t blame him for his wives committing adultery.” Aya paused and studied Varick’s face. He had wrinkles around his eyes and forehead, but when he held his face still, it smoothed out like a stone patiently waiting for her to pluck it from the sand. Aya considered that day with her father, the thoughtless and merciless way King Archon had given the order. “Or can you?”
Varick smiled wider. “That’s it, Miss Aya. Think like our noble king.”
Aya rubbed her temples. “If you’re telling the truth, and Queen Isadona did not willing commit adultery, she must have either been raped and wrongly accused or framed in a crime she didn’t commit.”
“I can assure you, my daughter was not violated.”
“Then she was framed.”
Varick sighed. “All it takes is one pronouncement, and no one questions a thing. Adultery! Treason!” He raised his top hat and twirled it.
Aya felt the blood rise into her chest, spreading a fire from her bosom up her neck into her cheeks. Her hands balled into fists, and her lips quivered. “King Archon is trapping the queens into adultery. The strange men wandering the palace, the vagabonds climbing up the anchor lines—it’s all him. He’s framing them.”
“Yes, Miss Aya, he is. And as he is the only judge on all crimes, there is no one to stop him.”
“But why?” Aya held out her hands, as if an answer would fall from the ceiling into them. She could rationalize a cruel king killing a craftsman—but a king killing his queen? What kind of man orchestrates the death of the woman he has sworn to love?
Varick rolled his eyes. “Why do powerful men do anything? Because he can. It’s a game to him. He seduces a beautiful young woman, and once he is sure of her affections, he frames the queen in adultery to make room for his new pet. When she begins to bore him, or worse, discovers the truth of how the previous queens died, he secures her replacement and orchestrates her betrayal.”
Aya turned to Varick and grabbed his hand. The words flew from her mouth before she could stop them. “Surely you’re not the only one who knows. Don’t other nobles realize this? What he’s doing is treason. He must be stopped!”
“Yes, he must.” Varick squeezed her hand. “My daughter, my beautiful, na?ve daughter loved that sick man. I begged her not to become his queen, but she didn’t listen. Isadona never would have betrayed King Archon. That’s when I knew. When I heard that my sweet, innocent Isadona had committed adultery and would be executed, I knew Archon must be to blame. Isadona was all I had left—her mother had already departed this life—and Archon stole her from me.”
“What does this have to do with me? Why can’t you get together with the other noblemen? The queens’ families? Surely they have just as much reason to hate the king as I do.”
Varick sighed. “That is true, Miss Aya. They certainly do. But the noble families are afraid to speak out against the king. King Archon is smart and has left no proof of his crimes. To accuse him without proper evidence would be treason. In order for his true nature to be shown without a speck of a doubt, we must prove he is framing the queens.”