CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
K el woke up to the sound of voices. He pushed himself upright slowly, his body aching from the pummeling he’d given it in the Hayloft the day before. He’d slept badly, and he guessed Conor had as well, but Conor was already awake, fully dressed, sitting behind his desk, his feet up on a pile of papers. Perched on the edge of the desk was Joss Falconet, wearing a hot-pink frock coat and an animated expression. “They spotted the body last night,” he was saying. “But by the time the Vigilants reached the canal, it had sunk out of sight. They’re dredging for it now—though the Gods only know what they’ll find.”
The body. Kel felt suddenly cold all over, despite the sun streaming in through the windows. He glanced down; he was shirtless, but then, it was just Falconet. He cleared his throat.
“What’s going on?” he said. “Whose body are we talking about?”
Conor glanced over at him. Kel couldn’t remember the last thing he’d said to Conor the night before; Conor had come back silent and withdrawn after his “errand” in the city, and Kel had left him alone.
There was an unusual gravity in Conor’s dark-gray eyes. “It’s just a report right now,” he said, “but it looks as if Ciprian Cabrol has been found dead in the Temple District.”
Falconet had a new carriage. He had drawn it up to a stop near the Bridge of Singing Women, not far from the Caravel. The neighborhood was not usually crowded, as the Temple District tended to be less frequented at the height of the day. But word that a body had been seen in the green canal—and was suspected to be that of a noble—had stirred the sluggish interest of various passersby. They stood in uneven clumps up and down the banks of the water, chattering among themselves.
Vigilants, easy to identify in their scarlet uniforms, were dredging the canal with nets made of rope. It was a hot afternoon, the sunlight bouncing off the water as if off a jade mirror. Kel felt vaguely queasy, the light seeming to stab into his eyes as if he had a hangover.
Ciprian. Dead. It could hardly be a coincidence. Just yesterday, Kel had sent Ciprian off with orders to find out which other families were tied into the conspiracy, and now Ciprian had been killed. We sent him to his death, Kel thought. He hadn’t been innocent, but that didn’t matter. Kel should have anticipated the danger.
“Is everyone quite sure it was Ciprian?” said Conor. “Who saw the body last night?” He was leaning back against a satin bench seat, flocked with silver and gold embroidery in the shape of twining grapevines. Falconet’s new carriage was so ornate as to be ridiculous. Bronze carcel lamps dangled from hooks, though they were not lit now; the walls of the carriage boasted gold-framed mirrors and diamond-pleated silk tassels, while beneath the seats were padded boxes holding wine bottles and glasses.
Merren would have been outraged, Kel thought. Sometimes he forgot how wealthy the Charter Families really were, each one a royal family in their own right, ruling over kingdoms of porcelain and silk, spices and wine. No wonder Malgasi thirsted to control them.
“I woke up at the Caravel this morning,” Falconet said, covering a yawn with his hand. “It was chaos outside, Vigilants everywhere. Alys got me out the back way, said Silla saw a body in the water. That it was Cabrol. Alys wasn’t pleased. Noblemen dying in the district is bad for business.”
“Well, he wasn’t a nobleman all that long,” said Conor. He was gazing out the window, just as Kel was, but seemed distracted. “Three months, was it?”
Falconet chuckled. “Not a long time to get someone angry enough to kill you, I grant. Didn’t you talk to him at the Solstice Ball, Con? Did he ask you for any royal favors—paying off gambling debts, doing away with an enemy or two?”
Conor shrugged absently. “I don’t think I spoke with him at all. He seemed busy keeping Esteve away from Beatris.”
Kel tensed. It wasn’t like Conor to make a mistake like that. Oh, Ciprian had nothing of note to say, he should have answered. Knowing to cover for the time he’d been gone, for the time Kel had been him.
Falconet shrugged. “Well, I was very drunk. I must have misremembered.”
“He didn’t look particularly troubled,” said Kel, thanking Aigon that Falconet liked his wine. “Not that it matters much now.”
“I suspect,” drawled Conor, “that this was the work of the exiled Roverge family. They had their Charter usurped, after all. They would have been hungry for vengeance.”
“They certainly waited long enough to take it,” Kel said as a shout went up from outside. Several of the Vigilants appeared to have caught something dark in their net.
“Perhaps Beatris will take over the Charter,” said Falconet, resting an arm on his drawn-up knee. “She’s unmarried, but with her brother dead, there’s no other male heir. An exception could be made.”
“You could marry her, Falconet,” said Conor. “Then you’d have a Charter to bestow on some fortunate friend.”
“I could.” Falconet looked amused. “Speaking of marriage, is it true the lovely Anjelica rode over one of your outbuildings with her elephant? Crushed it to powder, I hear.”
“It wasn’t an outbuilding,” said Conor. “It was a folly.”
Whatever the Vigilants had found in their net, it was not the body of Ciprian Cabrol. A wave of relief went through Kel, though it only had the effect of making him feel sicker. Kel cracked the carriage window open an inch, inhaling the salty canal-water scent of the Temple District as the Vigilants continued their search.
“The official word is that it was an accident,” said Falconet. “But I rather wondered if you’d done something to annoy the Princess. Did she catch you in a dalliance, perhaps?” he asked, with that Falconet smile that was meant to take the sting out of the words.
“There was no dalliance,” Conor said in a strangely flat voice. Falconet looked at him with some surprise.
“My mistake, Con,” said Falconet. “But—may I make an observation?”
Conor made a go on gesture. Outside the window, the Vigilants were dragging a net up the side of the bank again. Kel could not see what was caught in it.
“If you were to be caught in a dalliance—and I’m not saying you have been, but who knows what might happen in the future— I would remind you of the wise words my father once shared with me. He told me, ‘Never make the mistake of fucking around in the foreground, Joss. You are meant to fuck around in the background.’ And that is even more true for you, Con. You are a Prince but she is a Princess. She will expect discretion—”
A shout went up from outside. Falconet flung open the door of the carriage and the three of them peered out. The Vigilants had spread out their net. Lying in the center of it, already beginning to bloat, was the corpse of Ciprian Cabrol. Even at this distance, Kel recognized his dark red hair, water streaming from it. His clothes were dank, sodden, clinging to his body.
Kel’s stomach lurched. It would do no good to tell himself that Ciprian had been planning treason against the Aurelians; his guilt was another thing that would need to go in the lockbox, down into the depths where he could forget it for now.
“May he pass through the gray door unhindered,” Falconet said gruffly. “Alys was right—”
Another shout went up. One of the Vigilants had got hold of something else that had been in the water, something heavy and dark. Others crowded around him to help, and Kel heard gasps of disgust. The faint salt tint carried on the air was tinged with something else now. The smell of rot.
“Another body,” Falconet said, hopping out of the carriage. He stood at the canal’s edge, his pink coat incongruous against the scene before him: the Vigilants rearranging themselves so that a new corpse could be laid out on the stones. A bigger body than Ciprian’s, rotted gray fabric stretching across bloated flesh, a slashed throat gaping like an eel’s mouth.
“By the Gods,” Conor said, leaning out of the carriage. “It’s Gremont.”
“I can’t help but feel this is our fault,” Merren fretted. “We tasked Cabrol with bringing us information, and the next day he was dead.”
“I really don’t see how that can be blamed on us,” Ji-An said. “Not directly, at least.”
Merren shot her a dark look. They were all in the Great Room, where a fire was blazing in the hearth despite the heat of the day outside. Andreyen, looking like a very thin, very tall scarecrow, was lounging in his chair, his staff balanced across his bony knees. His sharp green eyes seemed fixed on a point slightly in the distance. He had not spoken since Kel had come to tell them that Ciprian had been murdered and Gremont’s body found.
“Not to mention,” said Ji-An, examining her nails—currently painted a foxglove violet that matched her coat, “if he had not decided to involve himself in a life of crime and blowing up boats, nothing would have happened to him in the first place.”
“ You’re involved in a life of crime,” Kel pointed out.
“Yes, but I know what I’m doing. It’s not for amateurs, now, is it?”
“I can only imagine that the death of two Charter holders will create chaos on the Hill,” Andreyen said, breaking his silence. “Not only will heirs need to be chosen, but the remaining Charter members will be watching their backs lest they, too, find themselves floating in the canals, laid low by an unknown enemy.”
“They’re going to want to know who did it,” said Merren. “Especially since Jolivet never heard about Gremont’s death—”
“I stayed by the canalside,” said Kel, “after the bodies were found. I was wondering why Belmany wanted these bodies found in the same place, because it was clear she did. She could have buried Gremont’s body under Tyndaris, or burned it away to ash, but she kept it to stage this scene.”
“What scene?” said Ji-An.
“When they dredged the canal, they found dueling swords. Both bodies had sustained stab wounds, though we know Gremont died of a slit throat,” Kel said. “Belmany is trying to make it appear that they killed each other in a duel.”
“Duels require seconds, and a witness,” said Ji-An. “Won’t they be looking for them?”
“King Markus made dueling illegal years ago,” said Kel. “No one would come forward to admit they were involved—even if there had been a real duel, which we know there wasn’t.”
“But will it fool anyone? Were they even known to have disliked each other?” Merren asked.
“Everyone disliked Gremont,” Kel said. “Falconet pointed out that Gremont always talked down to Ciprian, thought of him as a lowly merchant’s son whether he held a Charter or not.”
“For an improvised plan, it’s clever,” said Andreyen with a trace of condescension. “It will fool the right people. And as for the rest, well, those are the ones she wants to frighten.”
“The real problem we have is that with Ciprian dead, we’ve lost our lead,” Kel said.
“We could try to capture and torture Lady Alleyne,” Ji-An suggested.
“No,” Andreyen said. “She’s terrified of Belmany now; she won’t go anywhere unless she’s surrounded by guards.” He looked thoughtful. “How aware do we think Beatris Cabrol was of her brother’s alliances? Surely he couldn’t have kept his family entirely in the dark.”
“He might have,” said Kel, thinking of Beatris—though he had never looked closely at her, never really wondered what she knew. “If only we could find Belmany’s hideout. We could position ourselves outside and see who goes in and out.”
“Jerrod would have been able to find it,” said Merren. “He was so good at finding things.”
“ Merren, ” said Ji-An. “ He left us. ”
“Only because I shouted at him,” said Merren glumly.
“No,” said Andreyen, passing a hand over his pained face. “He left to rejoin Prosper Beck’s ranks, which he would have done whether you’d shouted at him or not. At least he has promised that Beck will not be using his storehouse full of weapons against us, which gives us one less thing to worry about.”
“Then what should we worry about?” said Ji-An.
“Elsabet Belmany,” said Andreyen. “I do not know her, but I know people like her. She has lost two of her conspirators, and she will begin to feel backed into a corner. In that position, she will pivot to a more swift and violent solution to her troubles rather than depending on the slow treachery of the nobles.” Andreyen looked down at the magpie ring on his finger. “She has said she needs Conor, presumably alive. And that the King must die. I fear, though I cannot say precisely why, that if she accomplishes either of those things, it will go very badly for us.”
“I think you are right.” It was Lin. She had just come into the room. She wore a cloak of soft blue wool, a brooch pinned to her shoulder. The stone set in the brooch seemed to wink brightly in the firelight.
“Do you?” Andreyen said to her, his sleepy green eyes curious.
“Yes,” she said slowly. “The Prince brought me to the Palace to have me cure his father, who has been ill. He put me under a royal order not to speak of it, or I would have told you before. But I have learned a great deal about the Blood Royal. I think—I am almost sure that if the Malgasi get hold of the King and Prince Conor, it will be deadly for the rest of us.”
Andreyen’s eyes went to the brooch at Lin’s shoulder, and then to her face. “But,” he observed, “you will not tell us what you’ve learned?”
“Not yet. I need to go to Marivent. I must see the King. Only then can I be sure.” She turned to Kel. “I need you to bring me to the Palace again.”
Kel looked at her, puzzled. How many times had she been to the Palace before? “Did Conor not invite you?”
“Today I am not going at his request,” she said. “I am going at the King’s. But the guards at the gate will not know that.”
“The King?” Kel said slowly. “He spoke to you? Lin, he has not spoken to anyone in months.”
“He sent a message,” she said, though there was something shadowed in her eyes that made Kel think this was not the whole truth. “All this has something to do with his fostering at the Malgasi Court. Something terrible happened there. Something that had to do with burning, with fire. Something he was persuaded to do.”
It was not his fault. He did only what he was persuaded to do. Fausten’s words, spoken to Kel in the Trick so many months ago, echoed in his head. “ Atma az dóta, ” he murmured. “Fire and shadow.” He sat up straight. “She is telling the truth.”
“ Well, ” said Lin, looking offended. “As if I wouldn’t.”
“Kellian, is it safe to bring her to Marivent right now?” Andreyen asked. “If the Prince did not request her presence, he may be startled to find her there. Startled enough to ask questions.”
“We will have to be careful,” Kel said. “But all the nobles will be closeted in the Dial Chamber, discussing the deaths of Gremont and Cabrol. It is not the worst time to sneak around Marivent.”
“And if you find the answers you seek, you will come and tell us?” Andreyen said.
“Yes. As soon as I am done with my trial.”
Kel rose to his feet. “We have lost Cabrol. We have no plan. And if what you believe about Belmany’s nature is correct, Conor is in danger at this moment. Not at some time in the future—now.” He took a deep breath. “I’m going to tell them. Jolivet, Bensimon, and Conor. They need to know everything we have learned.”
“Jolivet, maybe,” Andreyen said. “Conor may not forgive you for lying to him all this time.”
“That may be so, but to save his life, it will be worth it.” He heard Lin inhale, a short, sharp breath of relief.
“Thank you,” she said in a low voice. She had been twisting a piece of her blue cloak between her fingers. She released it now. “We ought to go quickly,” she said. “I will have to get to the Sault by sundown.”
No one spoke. Kel glanced at the three inhabitants of the Black Mansion. Andreyen, as always, a closed book. Ji-An staring at the ground. And Merren, his face troubled.
“Are we done, then?” said Merren. “No more investigation? No more reason for you to come to the mansion?”
“I’ll be back, Merren,” Kel said gently. “Of course I will.”
He looked at Ji-An, but she said nothing. He went to join Lin, and as he escorted her from the room, he realized he was pacing along slowly, waiting for one of his friends to call out to him. To summon him back, to ask him when he would return. To wish him good luck.
But they made no sound.
“Where does he think you are?” Lin said.
She sat opposite him in the carriage. The curtains were open and the hot sunlight poured in, making the small space stuffy. Lin had her medicine satchel on her lap, and Kel caught the faint scent of willowbark and astringent soap that seemed to infuse her clothes.
Where does he think you are? He knew she meant Conor, though she hadn’t used Conor’s name. Like him, when she said he, she meant only one person.
“He didn’t ask where I was going,” he said. “He’s fairly distracted at the moment.”
“Oh.” Her eyes darted away from his. Kel leaned forward as the carriage lurched on its way up the Hill.
“Are you in love with him?” he asked. “Because he is certainly in love with you.”
Lin started so violently that her satchel fell to the floor, spilling ampoules of herbs. “I don’t—” She bent over, hiding her face, gathering up the dropped substances. She waved away his offer of help. “Don’t,” she said. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
“Because it’s obvious,” he said, remembering the way Lin and Conor had danced at Antonetta’s engagement party. The way Conor looked the night after he’d met Lin during the banquet. The way his voice changed when he said Lin’s name. “At least, it’s obvious to anyone who knows him, and I should have guessed it sooner. I’ve been an idiot.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she said. “He isn’t in love with me. He needed me to help his father. He didn’t even want to ask me, but he was desperate. And he put me under a royal order to do it. Does that sound like something you’d do to someone you love?”
“For Conor, it is. Because you make him feel out of control. Do you know how unusual that is for him? Almost everyone in Conor’s life wants something from him. They want power, money, proximity to the throne. They want to be near him because to be near him is to be closer to the Gods.”
“Conor doesn’t even believe in the Gods.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Kel said. “And especially not to you. You have no use for our Gods. You are complete in yourself. You need nothing from him; you never have. And he cannot understand it. You might as well put him in a lifeboat and set him adrift. He grasped at that royal order because to him you are like water slipping through his hands. He knew no other way to hold you—and,” he added, “I am not saying this is a good thing about him, but it is a true thing. I am assuming he has released you from the order since?”
Lin, having managed to stuff everything back into her satchel, glared at him. “Yes,” she said. “How did you know?”
“Because Conor likes to win games, but he doesn’t like to be allowed to win. If he thought you were only willing to see him because he was forcing you, he wouldn’t be able to stand it.”
Lin’s mouth trembled. “He set me free, but I still felt bound to him. I feel bound to him even now. As if there is some cord that connects us both—and I feel it even when he is not there.” She pushed her tumbled red hair out of her face. “He has offered me a house in the Silver Streets, a place as his mistress, his word that he will always take care of me. But is that not also just another sort of imprisonment? A gilded cage is still a cage.”
“He offered you all those things? Then he’s desperate to keep you with him. I didn’t realize how desperate.”
Lin spread her hands wide. “I’m sure he’s made this offer to others.”
“Never,” Kel said. “I doubt the thought of such an offer has ever even crossed his mind before. He is the Prince. He has always known that his heart was not really his to give.”
“He didn’t offer me his heart. He offered me a house.”
“It’s all he can offer,” Kel said with a force that surprised him. He thought of Antonetta, and of how little he had ever had to offer her. “It’s everything he has.”
“I always knew it was impossible,” Lin said. “He is the Prince, and I am Ashkar.”
“I don’t think he gives a damn about that,” Kel said. “For the past months, since the Shining Gallery, he has thought of nothing except how he can make up for past sins. And for the first time he has taken it seriously, what it means to be a Prince and a leader. What you owe to the throne and the people who put you on it. You have seen the state of his father. He has had to be both Prince and King. It’s not because he loves Anjelica that this is all he can offer you. It’s because he loves Castellane, and only through this alliance with Kutani can he keep it safe.”
It was all true, he thought, even if Conor didn’t understand the full nature of the threats Castellane faced. But he would by tonight, and perhaps they could bring Anjelica into the discussion. Kutani would help them fend off whatever Malgasi might bring.
Lin was very pale. “I don’t know what to say, Kel.”
“You never answered my question.” Kel leaned forward. They were rolling under the North Gate into the Palace proper. “Do you love him?”
She smiled the ghost of a smile. “Sword Catcher,” she said. “Are you protecting him now? You know I cannot hurt him.”
“I think you can hurt him more than he has ever been hurt,” said Kel. “And even if I cannot stand in front of him to block this blow, I can stand beside him while he endures it.”
Lin closed her eyes. They were drawing up to the North Tower, where Benaset stood guard by the door. The shadow of the tower fell over them, darkening the inside of the carriage. When Lin opened her eyes again, Kel saw them shine in the dimness.
“I do not want to love him,” she said. “It frightens me more than anything has ever frightened me. Can you understand that?”
Kel said nothing. With an impatient gesture, Lin flung the door open and leaped down from the carriage. He watched her run past Benaset into the tower, her satchel bouncing on her shoulder, her red hair flying like a bright banner in the sun.