CHAPTER 156
The next morning came with a dim, cold light. The council chamber, usually loud with discussion and shuffling of reports, was unusually still. The councillors sat in a half-circle before Grace, their faces tense.
Grace leaned forward slightly in her chair, her eyes fixed on the old records-keeper brought before her. The man was thin, grey-haired, with fingers stained in ink. His eyes avoided hers, darting instead toward the empty parchment on the table.
"State your name," Grace said, her tone measured.
"Lerrin Douse, Majesty," he answered quickly.
"You were in charge of maintaining military records during the years Commander Robert served, correct?"
"Yes, Majesty," Lerrin nodded, though his voice trembled.
Grace rested both hands on the table. "Then explain why several signed orders from those years bear two seals, mine and King Charlenugo's, but both in handwriting that does not match our own."
