Hellhole (28 page)

Though Keana left, she did not give up. She took the extraordinary step of contacting a Sonjeeran attorney on Louis’s behalf. In order to pay the legal fees, in room after room she emptied her cabinets of heirloom jewelry and brought the whole pile to Buxton Trombie in Council City. The expression on the lawyer’s face told her it would be enough to pay for the most extravagant defense.

An aged man with impeccably groomed gray hair, Trombie listened as Keana explained the desperate situation. “During the Reading of the Charges on Vielinger, Louis had no legal protection. The magistrates made up their minds ahead of time – it was so obvious. And now he’s being brought back to Sonjeera for sentencing. He may be here already, but no one will tell me anything!”

The lawyer cleared his throat as if preparing to give an opening argument. “First off, Princess, the magistrates determined the evidence was overwhelming, and by law, he was not allowed to present a defense.” He blinked his heavy-lidded eyes. “In legal matters, one must be careful with details.”

Keana thought he was missing the main point. “This has nothing to do with justice – it’s a conspiracy. The Riominis want to take over his holdings on Vielinger! I have it on good authority that the three magistrates judging his case are in Riomini employ.”

She expected Trombie to be offended; instead, he seemed dismissive. “You are certainly correct, Princess. Lord de Carre got himself into quite an untenable situation and let his own planet slip away. If memory serves, he missed several important votes in Council and failed to properly administer the iperion facilities under his authority. His son was fortunate that the lord shouldered the burden of the charges, otherwise the magistrates would have imprisoned both of them.”

Keana’s instinct was to shout in indignation and claim that the charges were false, but she couldn’t deny that she had distracted Louis from attending Council meetings. Caught up in love and happiness after so many years of being alone, Louis had lost his appetite for political maneuvering when he’d given his heart to her. But since the arrest, Keana had done some legal research. “The question, Mr Trombie, is what can we do about it? We have to free Louis from this trap.”

“Oh, I suspect we’ll have little effect, whatever we do.”

“I want you to expose the corruption to the whole Constellation. There’ll be a public outcry for justice.”

Trombie regarded her as if she were a naïve child, which angered Keana even more. “There’s simply no point to it, my Lady. Your affair with Lord de Carre is common knowledge, and the people won’t sympathize with you.”

Keana barely restrained herself from leaping to her feet. Did he not understand the urgency? How could she stir this man to action? “Can we file an appeal? Reverse the decision? Submit papers to request clemency?”

“I’ve read the decision, and it has been on the news reports. I am sorry to say, Princess, that everything seems to be in order. Lord de Carre’s formal sentencing takes place here tomorrow.” Trombie pushed away the jewels Keana had brought. “I have represented the Duchenet family for years, and therefore when you made your appointment with me, I was obligated to contact your mother. It seems that she has other ideas about the situation.”

The door to the inner office swung open and Diadem Michella entered. From the sour frown on her face, it was obvious she had been eavesdropping on the whole conversation. With Keana too astonished to speak, the old woman swooped into a chair and took charge of the meeting. “You are misinformed, daughter. The judges who convicted Lord de Carre are not in the employ of the Riominis. They are, in fact, on
my
payroll, and they rule as
I
tell them to.”

Buxton Trombie shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Princess, I advise you to drop your attempts on behalf of Lord de Carre. Your case has no merit.”

Michella placed a claw-like ring-studded hand on her daughter’s arm. “You must face certain realities, dear. Political realities. I view this as an opportunity to teach you by letting you live with the consequences of your bad decisions.”

Keana found her mother’s touch repulsive. “I love Louis – can’t you understand that?
Please
. If you grant him clemency, I will do whatever you want!” She realized she sounded like a whining child, but didn’t care.

Michella frowned, as if reconsidering. “I didn’t think you had it in you. I thought you would flutter away and forget about it soon enough, but now I see how determined you are.” Keana responded with flashing eyes and pulled her arm free. “All right, something more lenient might be arranged for the man . . . a prison term of a few years, followed by exile to the Deep Zone. Complete forfeiture of his family holdings goes without saying . . . Even as Diadem, I can do nothing more.”

Keana took several deep breaths. “At least let me see Louis. I’ll tell him what you said. He’ll be willing to go to the Deep Zone, I promise.”

She clucked her tongue. “It would not be seemly for the Diadem’s daughter to visit him in prison – a disgraced nobleman and a convicted criminal.”

Keana fought back tears. Louis must feel so alone! Trombie gave a sober nod, tried to intercede. “It might be done discreetly, Eminence.”

Michella finally showed a glimmer of compassion. Fidgeting in her chair, clearly not pleased, she nodded. “All right. I will arrange for you to visit him briefly in his cell just before his sentencing. However, I want no gawking observers, no one who can repeat gossip.”

“Thank you, Mother!” It was the tiniest hint of hope, but the best news Keana had had in days.

Following her mother’s instructions, Keana arrived at the east entrance of an imposing gray rock structure the following morning. Horned-gax carvings protruded from fascia and corners; according to legend, the icons warded off evil forces. A shiver ran down her back. Before today, Keana had never been to Sonjeera’s highest-security prison, but she was delighted and relieved to have this opportunity to comfort poor Louis.

She wore nondescript garments to hide her identity – and who would expect the Diadem’s daughter in this part of the city? After she whispered to one of the guards, he led Keana up a short stairway. She looked both ways, smelled the odd oppressive mustiness of the building, but realized with relief that at least Louis was not in one of the lower-level cells reserved for heinous criminals. Instead, the guard escorted her to a spacious wing with individual rooms for upper-class prisoners. Perhaps Louis was being treated well after all.

The gruff guard showed no sympathy for any of the detainees, nor did he seem to care who Keana was. “Lord de Carre has been left alone for the day, so that he may contemplate his sentencing without distraction. I have orders to grant you complete privacy.” The guard motioned her inside.

Not caring what the uniformed man thought, she hurried into the finely appointed detention room and heard the door shut behind her. Louis must be miserable, but she could at last offer him a little encouragement; she would do whatever she could for him. “Louis, my love – I’m here!” She ran forward but didn’t see him. What if her mother had played a cruel trick on her? What if Louis wasn’t here after all? The Diadem had already kept so much from her; what if her mother was simply trying to keep Keana busy chasing red herrings, while Louis was whisked away to some other place?

Her heart contracted at the memory of how forlorn he had looked during the Reading of the Charges, humiliated, broken. With her love, though, Keana could give him strength. They would go into exile together, live in quiet anonymity on some Deep Zone world.

But he did not answer her call. “Louis?” They wouldn’t have much time together today, and she wanted to cherish every moment of it.

The bathroom door was closed, so she called again, knocking hard. When he still did not respond, she felt a heavy dread in her stomach and threw open the door in desperation.

Lord Louis de Carre lay sprawled on the floor in an unnatural position. He still wore his trousers, but his shirt hung on a hook beside the door. A lake of dark blood pooled all around his body.

“Louis!” she screamed. “Guard, I need a doctor!”

But the blood was cold. The body was cold.

She knelt in the red pool, grabbed Louis by the shoulders and hugged him, held him. Gaping wounds ran the length of his wrists. “Guard!” She struggled to wrap towels around both wrists to stem the flow of blood, but the bleeding had stopped some time ago. “My darling, stay with me! Don’t go!”

When the disinterested guard finally appeared, he looked down at the body. Keana screamed at him, “Get a doctor, damn you! Hurry – there’s still time!” But Louis had run out of time, whether or not she wanted to admit it.

An eternity later, med techs rushed into the bathroom, while a red-stained Keana scrambled aside to give them access. Her clothes, her hands, her face were so covered with Louis’s blood that at first the med techs assumed
she
had been injured as well. But Keana pushed them away from her. “Help Louis!”

Dutifully, the med techs checked his wounds, removed the blood-soaked towels. “I’m sorry, Princess, but he’s been gone for some time. We’ll need to send in the investigators.”

The gruff guard shook his head. “This isn’t as unusual as you might think, especially with the noble types. After their pampered lives, they can’t face the humiliation of a sentencing.”

“But I was going to help him.” Her throat was raw. “Louis wouldn’t have killed himself!” The med techs just looked at the body, and the answers were self-evident. Keana barely kept herself from vomiting. He must have been so devoid of hope . . . if only she could have seen him one last time!

Sobbing, Keana clung to the body, remembering how vital Louis had been, how alive, how he had held her not long ago, their bodies so close together. This couldn’t be happening! “How did he do this? How did he get a knife?”

The guard shrugged. “They always find a way.”

The second med tech picked up a piece of paper he found on the countertop, scanned the words. “Suicide note.”

Keana tried to grab it from him. “Give that to me!” She thought of the love poems he had written her, the romantic letters, the cherished scraps of paper that she still kept. Now those notes were all she had left, and this one.

But the med tech held it out of her reach, and the guard confiscated the letter. “This is evidence, Princess. I need to turn this over to my superior. I’m not authorized to show it to anyone else.”

“Louis didn’t kill himself.” Her voice sounded very small. “It’s not true!”

Inwardly, though, she knew it was possible, even probable. The proud man had lost his family fortune and his honor. He had been entirely cut off from the love he shared with Keana, and the memory had not been enough to sustain him. Disgraced and in despair, he might well have chosen to end his life.

If only her mother had let her talk with him sooner! Keana could have given him strength, convinced him to endure the dark shame. If only the two of them could have fled the festering politics of the Crown Jewels. They would have been content to live as simple people, happy together, rich in love if not in possessions. But her dreams and hopes for the future were now shattered.

Weeping, Keana slumped beside the body. “Oh, my sweet, sweet Louis!” Now it was too late.

O
n Vielinger, Cristoph felt isolated and hamstrung. He understood that his family had been set up as part of a complex plot and that his father had fallen completely into the trap. Against such powerful enemies, the de Carre family didn’t have a chance. Cristoph had been a helpless pawn.

He had not spoken with his father since the Reading of the Charges. Had the man thought about anyone but himself while he dallied on Sonjeera for the past two years and ignored the needs of his holding?

During the sham proceedings on the grounds of the family estate, his father had tried to act brave and noble, and Cristoph had been forbidden to speak. It didn’t matter. Cristoph knew Louis de Carre had been set up and convicted in the back rooms of Sonjeera even before his arrest. His lax attitude toward his own people and his disgraceful lifestyle had ensured that few would raise an outcry.
He got what he deserved
, they would say. How could even his son defend him?

Now Cristoph, and any children he might eventually have, would pay the price for the nobleman’s folly. Though Louis had shouldered all of the blame in a belated attempt to protect his son, Cristoph had already been mired in disgrace, his administrative work distorted and misrepresented. It was all part of the ruthless, methodical destruction of his family name.

By the time this day was finished, Cristoph would have nothing. The de Carres would have nothing. The Riominis were coming to take it all.

With weak legs, the young man descended the porch steps of the manor house and walked along the red pebble pathway through the ornamental gardens. This was their age-old residence, but everything they owned was now forfeit because of his father’s apathy toward an industry that was vital to the functioning of the Constellation.