Chapter Ten #2
His voice sounded far away as my mind raced. This had to be played out carefully or they would throw me in prison. Well, try to throw me in prison.
“Just a moment.”
I shut the door, motioning for Nadiyah to stay hidden as I dug through the trunks. Once I found what I was looking for, I strode back to the door and held out the golden card for the captain to read.
“I believe this should clear up any misunderstandings,” I said, lacing my voice with sweetness.
He leaned forward, eyes narrowing at the expensive paper.
“Uh, er—” He stumbled over his words.
The soldiers all broke protocol, glancing at one another in surprise.
“I’m afraid—”
“I’m afraid I’m above the prince’s jurisdiction,” I interrupted. “But if you would like to return with a higher authority, I would be more than willing to listen to your concerns at that time.”
I shut the door in his face, not waiting for a response.
I didn’t care to hear one.
Nadiyah stared at me with a wild expression.
I smirked. “Why do you think I secured the invitations from the Enchantress?”
I handed the paper to her. Golden designs of intricate weaving bordered the invitation, my name scrawled across the top in a metallic opal ink that sparkled in the candlelight. A bright red circle of wax with the king’s seal was stamped beneath the elaborate scrawl.
“This is a special invitation, hand-sealed by the king, meaning it is only he himself who could order my removal from the Paravellian Balls.”
“And what makes you think he won’t do that?”
“Nothing,” I said. “But judging by the prince’s reaction, I have an inkling he will be too lazy to pursue it any further.”
Sunlight crested the sky, illuminating the room around us.
Desmond should have been back hours ago. An unspoken question passed between Nadiyah and me. Should we look for him? But how to look for him without drawing suspicion. Unease rippled through my gut like violent waves and threatened to drown me.
Something rattled at the door, scratching over the metal bars inside the lock. A moment later the handle twisted and Desmond stepped inside.
I frowned at the pins in his hand. He could remember those but not a key. He was always like that. His entrances had to be difficult. Had to be interesting.
“You couldn’t knock?” I asked.
He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his bloodshot eyes gazing longingly at the bedroom door. “I thought you both would be asleep.”
Nadiyah was understandable, but he should know better about me.
“You didn’t pass the guards in the stairwell?” I said. “The prince tried to exile me from Paravellia.”
He lifted an eyebrow, curious but too tired to ask.
“Where have you been?” Nadiyah probed.
Desmond collapsed onto the sofa, shutting his eyes for a moment of reprieve. “Here, there, everywhere. But most interestingly, and most importantly, the gambling dens.”
“We both know you’re not a betting man,” I said.
He shook his head, a small smile lighting on his lips.
“No. I’m not. It’s the gossip I go for, and the later it became, the better it got.
No one wanted to talk at first, but a little more alcohol, a little more of Nadiyah’s relaxation drug slipped into their drinks, and they were all singing like canaries. ”
I cocked my head. He didn’t drag things out for nothing.
He had something.
And it was big.
“Desmond,” I said.
He opened his eyes and sat up, pouring himself water from the side table and downing a glass.
“King Zaricor’s eldest son is dead.”
I stared at him. Shocked. “The crown prince? What was his name, Rivero? How?”
He set the glass down, turning serious. “One of the governors from the north was down there blabbing about it, but the guards shut him up. Said it was a foul rumor.” Desmond shrugged.
“So I dug a little deeper, found another man with the governor’s party.
Coaxed the information out of him. Anyone in the palace will deny it, call it a horrid rumor, convince you it isn’t true. Tell you he’s alive and well.”
“Why lie?” Nadiyah questioned. “Wouldn’t they want to mourn?”
“Not if it was an assassination.”
Desmond’s words sent a cold chill through me, numbing my bones like icicles on my skin. I licked my lips. “Assassination?”
He nodded. “They kept it as hushed as they could, tried to confine it to the town, but with the Paravellian Balls and people traveling, word gets out. He said the prince was assassinated at his home in broad daylight. Throat slit. No suspect. Nothing—except for the signature of an assassin.”
“One of ours?” I questioned.
He shook his head. “It was a mark burned into Rivero’s skin. The man described it, but it didn’t sound like one of our seals, and besides, with that high profile of a kill, we would have been warned what was going on before walking into this mess.”
“I can understand the secrecy about the assassination, but why hide his death?” Nadiyah asked.
“Because word would eventually get out. Better to let everyone think he was still alive. No one would make a deal with Paravellia if they knew the government was unstable and someone wanted the royal family dead.”
“They did this to send a message to King Zaricor,” I mused.
“Which means someone else wants him dead,” Nadiyah interjected. “Which means—”
“We’re not the only ones who came to the balls seeking blood,” I finished.
This incident could be isolated to Rivero, or it could run deeper. The last thing we needed was another assassination plot interfering with ours.
I looked up at Desmond, understanding and unspoken words passing between us. We’d worked too hard, too long, to let someone else do the dirty work for us.
Desmond stood from the sofa, striding back to his room. “That just means we’ll have to eliminate the competition, or kill the king first.”