Seeing that as an opportunity, Perivale began to spit, "You were nothing before me! You would be nothing still if I hadn't traded you away!"
"You didn't trade me away, you lost me on the gambling table because you were a fool, and you are a fool still," Iris responded so calmly that it was as if she were merely contemplating the weather. She then turned her attention to Melia and the man whose arms she was still cradled in, "Melia, sweetheart, is this your father?"
The girl sniffled and tried to hold back tears, turning her face from the man's chest, but it appeared she was too upset to speak.
"I am, Your Majesty," the old man said to her, "My name is Pablo, Your Majesty."
"Please, call me Iris," she insisted and although she now had her back to him, Ember was certain that she offered him a warm smile, "Tell me why you are here."
"I woke one morning last week, Your...Iris, to find that my daughter was no longer in her bed," Pablo explained. His voice trembled with emotion. "I searched high and low but couldn't find her, and when I began asking the locals, I came to find she'd been seen with that scoundrel!"
Perivale looked like he was about to speak, but Iris beat him to it, "And how do you believe she came to be with him?"
Admiration for his bride warmed Ember's insides. Hearing her now, he knew she would have no trouble when it came to her duties as queen.
She is a natural, he thought. She commands the room with such ease.
This woman before him was a far cry from the timid creature who had knelt before Filton the first time she’d come to the palace, and Ember found, with every passing moment, he cared for her more.
"I'm unsure, ma'am, but I know it was against her will," Pablo insisted, "My Melia would never leave in the middle of the night without saying anything. She's a good girl."
"And you have never done anything that might have caused her to run away?" Iris asked softly and Ember felt in his gut that she wasn't talking to him so much as remembering her own father who had traded her away like cattle.
"No, never!" Pablo raised his voice before dipping his head and looking ashamed, "Forgive me. I did not mean to yell in your presence, my lady."
Iris did not respond. Instead, she stepped up to Pablo and his daughter and whispered something that Ember couldn't hear. The way the girl in Pablo's arms twisted her face toward Iris told him she was whispering back.
Iris turned on Perivale then and glared at him, "This young lady says you were nosing around their farm for several days and that you promised her gold to help her father keep his farm if she were to come with you…"
"No! That’s a lie!" Perivale jerked forward as if in a violent spasm of protest. "I would never!"
Melia suddenly seemed to find her voice then, "You did! You promised me gold, and then, when my back was turned, you hit me over the head. That was days ago, and you...you…"
Melia glanced down at her hands and Ember watched as she stepped out of her father's arms to pull back her sleeves. Ember's stomach clenched when he saw the black circular bruising around her wrists as if someone had held onto them too tightly or bound them with something. Further up on her forearms there were definite bruising marks in the shape of fingers.
Ember had seen and heard enough. Clearing his throat, he stepped out from behind the throne. Everyone turned to look at him, all shocked. Perivale turned white as a sheet, and that was more than a little satisfying.
"Perivale, what did you intend to do?" Ember demanded, striding down the dais steps to join Iris. He placed a hand upon the small of her back and glared at Perivale.
"Nothing, your grace! They are lying! She came with me willingly!"
"That's a lie!" Pablo and Melia both said in unison. Ember raised his hand for silence.
"My lord, might I speak?" Filton, who had slipped quietly through the double doors, stepped forward to stand beside Pablo and his daughter.
Ember nodded.
"Before entering, I spoke to the guards who apprehended Lord Perivale. They told me he was found in a local tavern at the gambling tables, trying to make a trade," Filton explained.
"You lie!" Perivale protested.
As if the guards were fed up with his interruptions, one of them moved the head of his spear to poke the very tip into the man's rib cage. "Silence!"
"Did they hear what this trade was?" Ember asked. Filton nodded and gestured to a guard who stood in the doorway.
The man came forward and, as if on silent command, began to answer, "The lord was trying to trade his bride for gold. She tried to tell the other gentleman at the table that she had been taken against her will and the lord in question struck her."
"I nev…" Perivale began, but Ember had already turned to Melia.