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Arthur leaned forward. “We are alone, Morgan. There is no need to play coy. I know everything and I have for some time. But I suppose you thought I was a fool, didn’t you? As you snuck around at night and colluded with traitors and seditionists? You believed I would never find out.”
My heart stood still. The hunt. He meant the hunt.
“I would never,” I began.
“Stop.” Arthur’s voice was icy. “No more lies. I have a gift for you.” He rose from his seat and gestured for me to follow as he walked over to a long table.
A box rested on top, made of rough wood, with a hinged lid.
“Open it,” my brother instructed.
I touched the rough wood, hesitating.
“Open it. Now.”
I lifted the lid slowly.
The smell of rotting meat wafted out. I gagged.
“Open it all the way.”
I lifted the lid higher. Arthur came up beside me, his shoulder nearly touching mine.
Together we looked inside.
Dead eyes stared up at me. I counted slowly. Seven pairs in all.
Seven heads lifeless and pale. All of the eyes were open, staring up at us. It took everything I had not to back away, not to retch all over the lush carpet we stood on.
“Who are they?” I asked hoarsely.
“Don’t pretend not to recognize them,” Arthur replied, his voice venomous. “They’re your comrades, of course. Greet them warmly, Morgan. After all, this is the last time you’ll meet.”
He meant the hunters.
I forced myself to look at the faces more closely. I did not recognize them until... There.
Yaryna. Her russet hair was tangled and bloody. Her face was contorted in a grimace. Of terror or pain? Perhaps both.
Streaks of blood stained her cheeks. I could see the tendons of her neck, severed and twisted at the stem.
How had she been killed? The wound was not clean. Her head had not been quickly severed. The wound looked... jagged. As if it had been chopped. How many blows had it taken to sever these heads from their bodies?
I stepped back, overcome with horror.
“I recognize one. The woman. She was a hunter.” There was no reason not to speak freely now. “I joined a group of citizens hunting in the woods. Seeking food for their families and for those in need. There was nothing treasonous about it, Arthur. I swear to you. All they were looking for was food.”
Arthur turned his back to the chest and when he looked at me, his eyes were full of cold malice.
“You killed all of these people,” I said softly. “Because you believed them traitors? When really they were simply trying to help their families, their neighbors. They were hunters, not traitors, Arthur. How many innocents will you murder out of false fear?”
Arthur’s expression was flinty. “You dare to question me, Sister? After what you have done? You call them hunters but these people stole from their king. They broke the law. Their punishment was swifter than they deserved.”
“But you know why there is a food shortage,” I said desperately, unable to accept that he would not even try to understand. “You know the shortage is of your own making. So how can you be so harsh? These are your own people!”
Arthur took a step towards me, looming menacingly. “Don’t displace blame, Morgan. You organized these people. You turned them against their king. You made them believe this was the only way. They conspired. Hunters? They were planning much more than a simple hunt. If anyone is responsible for their deaths it is you, not I.”
I shook my head, overwhelmed, furious, sick at heart. “If they were planning anything more than a hunt, I don’t know what it was. They did not take me into their plans. I met Yaryna only the one night.”
