Interlude
brAXTON FOLLOWED FEN into the hallway, but while Fen vanished through a secret door behind a convenient painting, heading through the secret passages to obtain the help he needed, Braxton went to Caro’s room. Once inside, he quickly closed the door between the bedroom and sitting room, lowered the shades in the sitting room to imply Caro hadn’t yet left the bedroom, and then yanked on the bellpull to summon a servant.
“Prince Caro isn’t feeling well this morning,” Braxton lied when the servant arrived. “Please have Healer Alina summoned, but quietly,” he admonished. “No need to worry anyone else.”
“At once, Your Highness.” The servant bowed and hurried off.
Braxton collapsed onto the couch to wait, sighing as he tipped his head back against the cushions and trailed his fingers along the beautiful quilt Caro had clearly fallen in love with.
What a day, and all before breakfast.
As horrible as it sounded, Braxton knew he focused more on the uniform than on the face when it came to the servants who worked in the castle. There were hundreds of them, and they were all paid well, with food, clothes, and housing also provided. But they were completely interchangeable. Braxton was always polite to the servants who kept the building running in ways even he didn’t understand, and he certainly expressed his thanks for all their hard work. However, he couldn’t provide a name or any additional information about the servant he had just sent to the healing ward, and that was unacceptable. Things would have to change if they were going to ensure a trusted and trustworthy cadre of servants continued to work in the royal wing. The pay and benefits might keep many of them happy, but being treated as little better than a warm body, completely exchangeable with any and every other servant in the building, did not engender much appreciation of those being served. Feelings of resentment would fester—highly exploitable by enemies like Namin. Fostering a different environment was going to take a lot of effort but was definitely worth it. Without Caro there today…Braxton shuddered.
They probably wouldn’t have known they were poisoned. Well, actually, Char probably would have realized the second he tasted the dish, but since he hadn’t cooked, stirred, or otherwise helped prepare it, his passive magic ability to neutralize poison wouldn’t have kicked in. Maybe with Char’s help they would have reached a healer in time. Maybe. But thanks to Caro, they didn’t have to worry about it.
Braxton wasn’t sure whether Caro’s dismissal of their thanks was because he was shy—he was definitely far shyer than Clament, as Caro let himself be himself with the barriers down—or because he still didn’t think anything he contributed had value. His low value of his own self-worth, to Caro, meant the truth of everything he had accomplished didn’t matter; he only saw the negatives. Braxton desperately wanted to sweep Caro into his arms and hold him tight, to thank him for existing. Except, Caro wouldn’t understand Braxton. Not yet, at least, but Braxton was hoping as Caro threw off more of his terrible past and slowly became more certain of his future that would change too.
Alina flew into the room, not bothering to knock, and glanced around, her eyes wide and frantic.
“Where is he? Is he okay?” she forced out between panting breaths.
“Caro’s fine. He’s not sick. Sorry for scaring you,” Braxton said quickly, holding out his hands in apology. “This was the most discrete way we could think of to get a healer to the royal wing without arousing suspicion.”
Alina frowned and straightened as she caught her breath. “What happened?”
“Someone tried to poison us all this morning. We believe they failed, but we’re hoping you could look us over to double-check?”
“Poison! Of course I can check. Were you one of the targets? Come here!”
Braxton obeyed, submitting to her green-glowing hands as she used her magic to check him over.
“You’re fine,” she said after a long moment. “Take me to everyone else, please.”
Braxton led the way out of Caro’s room and down the hall to the dining room. Three people in the off-duty uniform of the royal guard—brown pants and a white shirt—were leaning over the poisoner’s body when Braxton held the door open for Alina and then followed her inside. Braxton recognized Jensen, Fen’s second in command, but didn’t know the other two.
“Anything?” Braxton asked. Alina headed straight to the king and queen, her hands already glowing again.
“Nothing,” Jensen responded with a sniff of disgust. “It’s the same as when Roe tried to kill us. Dump poison into our food, then take a faster-acting version after discovery. I don’t know about this servant, but Roe had been with us for six years without any sort of hint she was a traitor. We still don’t know if she infiltrated to start or was turned later, and I doubt we’ll learn anything more from this servant.” He sighed. “Still, I’ll let you know if we do learn anything else.” Jensen waved at the other two soldiers, who started wrapping the body in cloth. Once they were done, the package definitely looked suspicious, but the body itself was concealed, and they left. Jensen hefted the tureen full of what was left of the fruit, all the filled dishes piled on top, then followed.
“Everyone is perfectly fine,” Alina called as she stood from where she had been examining Shairon’s kids and husband.
“Excellent. Thank you for checking,” Father said. “Someone summon Charmaine and our real breakfasts, and then we should discuss how we’re going to catch whoever comes to take advantage of our untimely deaths.”
“Jensen will investigate the servant,” Fen explained, walking to the door to no doubt pry Char out of the castle kitchens where, if Braxton knew Char, he had gotten distracted from his mission of delaying their breakfasts. He had likely ditched the less than stellar efforts of his chef cousin, Terrance, and was remaking their breakfasts from scratch. “I’ve summoned Zain to set up protection and to capture anyone who shows up. She should be here by the time we’ve finished eating.”
Braxton retook his seat next to Caro, gently resting his fingers overtop of where Caro’s arm leaned against the table edge, then turned to look at Alina. “Please, stay for breakfast. And for afterward. I think it might be good to have a healer of your talents on board to help us fight this.”
“Precisely,” Father added. “For now, let’s eat. Once Captain Zain arrives, we will go over the plan.”