“Lady Maribelle! I must speak with you at once.” The man running up the stairs was wearing a heavy hood, with a fine mesh over his face. Leather covered his entire body, ensconcing him in protection.
“We were just on our way to see you, Stefan.” Dottie paused mid step, and peered closely at the man over her clipboard. “That is you in there, correct?”
“Yes, and I apologize for my impatience but things are devolving at an alarming rate.” He was panting through the heavy mesh.
Maribelle reached out a hand, but he waved her off. “The symptoms are progressing faster than anticipated?”
I thought we had more time.
“No, unchanged. It is an issue of scale. The bridge is a never-ending stream now that word has gotten out.” He was leaning on the wall, his words choked out through panting breath.
“Since yesterday?” Maribelle gasped.
“How many have reached the problematic stage?” Dottie had flipped to a blank page, Maribelle saw over her shoulder and she held her pen poised.
“None of the arrivals. Rashes, tears, fever. The problems are still contained, but we know it’s only a matter of time.” He had caught his breath and Maribelle was straining to make eye-contact through the mesh.
Dottie’s pen danced loops across the paper. “How many arrivals?”
“At least another hundred, maybe two. We’ve moved them into workshops for now.”
Maribelle took a deep breath. In one day? She thought trying doing quick math. “How long did the mason team say the hospital would take to finish for the special rooms?”
“Two more weeks, but I figure a month. I think they were being optimistic.” Dottie had started walked down the stairs and Stefan followed her.
“The dungeons—the only choice we have left.” Maribelle hadn’t moved. They turned and stared at her. “I don’t mean permanently. Just until the hospital is completed.” She twisted her lips and said, “We’ll clean them up, make it nice.”
Dottie’s pen captured the decree. “I’ll have that done while you meet with the envoy from Ormand.”
Maribelle raced down the stairs to catch up and then forced herself into a saunter. “He’s in the grand hall?”
“Yes, seated in the supplicants chair.” Dottie set off, to issue orders.
Maribelle excused Stefan, and stood before the door to her throne room. She threw her hair back and pulled one of the many levers on a panel. The door swung open.
The air was full of purple fireworks and green smoke. She smiled and walked catlike to an enormous throne in the center of the platform. The lights from the ceiling blinded her for a moment, but she just kept walking. The green smoke was scented like mint and sage.
The throne was facing away from the supplicants, and she sat perched, cross-legged with her elbows on her raised knees. The lights went out. Two spotlights danced over the room. She closed her eyes. The throne began to turn.
She opened her eyes to a single wooden chair in the center of the cavernous auditorium. The man overflowed the sides of it. His attendants stood around, disoriented from the lights and darkness. She purred, “I’m a very busy woman.” Maribelle sat one foot down on the floor, and put her other leg over her knee. The slit in the pants opened to her hip.
“Lady Maribelle—” The old man shouted, then coughed at the smoke.
“I do not have time for you to choke. Speak.”
The old man’s attendant was dabbing his face with a cloth. Lady Maribelle closed her eyes and listened.
“This treatment of a noble is quite unbecoming! I am a Count of Kaldenval.”
Lady Maribelle pressed a button on the armrest. A loud ticking sound echoed through the chamber. “The clock has started. You have five minutes.”
“We have been waiting for six hours after six days in a carriage. The sovereign’s request is not unreasonable. We are merely seeking passage through your lands. Without bloodshed.”
“You would make me a party to the destruction of an entire duchy. Did you bring any new information with you? Or the same tired threats?”
“You have never been threatened! You are the one who has closed your borders to your king. One could say that edges toward treason.”
Maribelle cocked her head and raised a finger, swaying it with the ticking. The man started talking faster.
“Ormand the Dragon and the Sovereign of the Unblemished have been very patient—”
She interrupted him and rose. “You are patient because you have time to waste. I suggest you not be in this room when the clock stops.” Lady Maribelle swirled out of the room, disappearing behind the throne.