Page 31 of Caroline the Cruel
The woman trembled and glanced back toward the door longingly. She did not want to be there. Caroline clicked her nails on her armrest impatiently.
“Your Majesty.” The woman knelt, tugging her children toward the floor to do the same.
“Rise and explain why your children appear like they haven’t seen bread in weeks.” Caroline had no patience for neglect. This woman should have come to the crown sooner. Perhaps it was a substance abuse problem she battled with or an abusive spouse. She cautioned herself not to make a judgement too quickly. She had a sense about these things, though.
The woman stood, placing hands on the shoulders of her two youngest children. “We’re starving, Your Majesty. My husband has been sick for months. We’ve run out of money.”
Her face heated, flushing a deep crimson. Pride. Caroline knew it. A little fear too, based on the woman’s still rattling hands, which twisted in her skirts.
“How long since these children have had a proper meal?” Her voice was becoming a snarl.
“We begged for a loaf yesterday.” Her eyes went to her feet. “Another a few days before.”
Her knuckles had turned white around the ebony wood of her throne. “Why did you not come to me sooner? And I suggest you divulge the truth.”
“Didn’t want to disturb you, Your Majesty. You must have much more important things to do—We know your reputation. It’s been told all over the land the way you are ruthless in thesepetitions.” Spite drenched the woman’s words. Caroline pushed the compulsion, and the woman continued. “Me and my husband didn’t want your tainted help.”
Caroline met the woman’s sneer, releasing her. “So, it was preferable to let your children starve?”
The woman’s skin took on a pasty sheen, an effect of the compulsion mixing with her fear of Caroline. “I was going to, but…” She glanced down at her youngest one, its belly beginning the swell of starvation, and her voice cracked. “But I couldn’t. If my husband knew I was here…”
“How do you think it makes me look when my people are begging in the streets, their children teetering skeletal at their feet?”
The woman rested her eyes anywhere but on her.
“Answer me!” Caroline shouted.
“Please, Your Majesty. Please help us.” Fat tears were dripping down the woman’s face and her children were clinging to her skirts.
The oldest boy stepped forward and peeled a cap off his matted, sand-colored hair. He placed his hand on his stomach. His mother tried to pull him back, but Caroline raised a hand to stay her. “Please forgive my mum. Da’s sick and hasn’t been able to work. They’re good people.”
“They let their fear and their pride get in the way of taking care of their children. I should not let their choices go unpunished.” She addressed the ten-year-old in a matter-of-fact way. He was brave enough to do what their foolish mother was not.
The boy twisted the tweed cap in his hand and blinked the most innocent pale blue eyes up at her. “Mum has learned, haven’t ya, Mum?” He turned his plea toward his mother.
She began nodding furiously, the predicament she was in sinking in. The woman fell to her knees. “Please, Your Majesty. Forgive us our folly.”
Johnneth narrowed his eyes at the queen. A glimpse of a smile crossed her lips as she stared at the boy. She’d been so harsh on the woman. He feared the punishment he sensed Caroline was about to bestow. If only he could intercede and make her see reason. This poor family had been through enough.
“Very well.” Caroline raised a hand, waving them off. “Reporter—” She turned to a scribe sitting at a simple desk to her left. He grabbed a fresh sheet of paper, dipping the fountain pen in the inkpot in anticipation. “Please transcribe the verdict as follows. This woman—” Caroline waited for someone to supply her name, which the scribe jotted down. “—will be required to visit the royal pantry once a week to gather a provision of food for her children and a plan to ease them from starvation. In two weeks, if their cheeks are rosy, they may be allowed food for the entire family and a healer to aid the father.”
Caroline glared at the woman who’d risen from her pleading position on the floor. “You may continue to beg for you and your husband’s food as your punishment. If I find out you’ve taken a single ounce of your children’s rations, I promise you, I will live up to my reputation. Now go. Take your children’s order to the pantry and let this be your warning. I won’t be as forgiving a second time.”
The queen flashed a glance back at Johnneth. “I can feel your disapproval seeping off you, Johnneth. You should learn to hide your emotions better.”
Johnneth blinked. Angus was giving him a wry grin. The commander seemed to approve of her every action. The punishment hadn’t been that horrible, he supposed. At least the children would be fed. It was a small mercy.
“Next!” Her voice echoed across the room.
Two men shuffled in, both in common attire, but it was crisp and clean, unlike the poor family. They were glaring daggers at each other, and a group of guards were around them keeping a distance between them.
“Which one of you is the murderer?” Caroline brushed her sheets of black hair over her shoulders and leaned forward to study the men.
The taller, dark-haired one thrust a wiry finger toward the stocky blond man next to him, who held both hands up in supplication. Caroline didn’t force them to bow. She seemed eager to get on with it, like something was eating at her nerves.
“Who did he murder?” she asked with a sigh.
“My brother, Your Majesty. A business dealing gone wrong.” The tall man’s voice rang full of conviction.
