Chapter 20
I read the note over and over again, until the letters blurred into nonsensical lines and dots.
My hands shook furiously and the room spun while I stood tethered to the parchment in my hands, trying to make sense of it.
Someone claimed to know what I was, and was using that knowledge to coerce me into remaining at the castle. And if I did not, they threatened to kill Tarben.
‘Your fair prince I will slay.’
Feverishly, I scanned the note for any indication of who could have written it, but there were no clues.
‘Remain at the castle, or else more will grieve.’
More. Did that mean it came from Lord Hywell’s murderer?
It was a possibility. A possibility that made my scalp prickle. I felt sullied from clutching something that might have been penned by a cold-blooded killer.
Once I had committed the words to memory, I tossed the wretched thing in the fire and watched it burn.
I paced the room as I attempted to puzzle through the predicament I found myself in.
How could I have been discovered? I took every precaution to blend in with the mortals.
I hadn’t used my powers in front of anyone, aside from that tiny incident in the tavern.
But I’d made it look like Magnus had knocked over that ale.
And the only ones who could have witnessed it were Tarben and Magnus.
Could the note have come from one of them?
Tarben? Impossible.
Magnus? Unlikely, but not impossible. Yet, vexing as he may be, I couldn’t imagine Magnus murdering anyone, or threatening to murder his oldest friend.
The pounding returned to my head with a vengeance. Massaging my temples, I filled my lungs with deep, deliberate breaths.
This was the last thing I needed, especially after my unpleasant run in with Tarben’s vile brother.
Collapsing onto my bed, I cradled a pillow against my chest. I needed to be calm and remember the facts.
Someone potentially knew I was Mer. However, that didn’t mean they knew why I was here.
In fact, it was nearly impossible that they did.
Unless this note came from the Crow. But what did she have to gain from me remaining at the castle?
Also, if she truly wanted to keep me here, why only grant me until the full moon to complete my task? It made no sense.
Speaking of my task, did this note change anything?
No. It couldn’t.
I had no plans to leave the castle. Not yet, anyway.
But when I did, it could potentially place Tarben in danger.
Yes, I was manipulating him with the intent to cause pain, but that didn’t mean I wished any real harm to come to him.
I certainly didn’t want him to be the murderer’s next victim.
If the murderer could get past the Royal Guard.
In addition to his guards, there was also the fact that he was a highly skilled fighter. He told me he had been trained in combat by the best instructors since he was a boy. If it came to it, he’d be more than capable of defending himself.
Yes, Tarben would be fine. There was absolutely no reason for me to spiral into panic. I could ignore the note and continue with my task, remaining completely disengaged from these mortal affairs.
No. The less rational part of me couldn’t tolerate the possibility of any harm coming to Tarben. I couldn’t bear the thought of putting him in a situation where his life would be in danger. Especially not if there was a chance that the killer was a witch.
Putting my face in a pillow, I screamed my frustration.
It was deeply unfair. Why did I have to be dragged into this?
All I wanted was to get on with my task, break the curse, be the savior of Vantillios, and live a long, happy life of freedom.
Yet, now that I’d been pulled into this, I couldn’t turn a blind eye.
Damn my conscience. Damn it to confinement.
Sitting up on my bed, I had made up my mind.
I would continue my task as if nothing had changed, but I also had a new task. Find whoever wrote this note.
***
I asked Runa and every other servant in the vicinity if they had seen who had slipped the note under my door.
They all claimed to have seen nothing. They’d been too busy contending with the aftermath of Lord Hywell’s murder to notice anything.
Before I had the chance to track down and question any more servants, I came across Ingrid in the hallway.
“There you are,” she chided. “I’ve been searching for you. The king has called an urgent meeting in the great hall; everyone is to attend.”
“When?” I asked, taken aback and a little annoyed at the interruption.
“Now. We’d better get moving or we’ll be late.”
Her tone left little room for argument, so I followed her to the great hall. As I did, I noticed her back was rod straight and her hands were balled into fists. She seemed tense. More tense than usual. Perhaps now was a good time to see if I could get any insights from her.
“Is everything alright, Ingrid?” I asked, falling into step beside her.
Her responding huff told me I had said the wrong thing. Of course everything wasn’t alright.
To my surprise, she said, “I realize it’s unbecoming to speak ill of the dead, but I never liked Lord Hywell. He was a drunken ass who treated servants like worms beneath his boots.”
I arched my eyebrows at her candor, but said nothing.
“But to hear how he died….” She shook her head. “Someone took their time killing him. Not only did they remove his fingers, but the things they did to his body…” She shuddered.
My stomach churned, just as a thought occurred to me. “I heard there was a symbol carved into his body. You don’t happen to know what it looked like, do you?”
Her eyebrows raised to her hairline and she looked at me as though I’d suggested we take the dead body out for tea. “No, I don’t know what it looked like! Some deranged lunatic scribbling heretic nonsense is all it is.”
My shoulders slumped in disappointment. Still, I pressed on as we approached the doors of the great hall. “Did he have any enemies? Anyone who would do this to him?”
She stopped in her tracks. “Well, of course he had enemies. Every powerful man does. I have no doubt there are those who wished to see him dead.” She continued in a harsh whisper, “But if you’re asking me if I know of anyone who would mutilate him like that?
I cannot conceive who would be so corrupt as to do such a thing.
I will not speculate on it, nor should you.
” Her mouth tightened into a thin line. It was clear from her expression that the discussion was over.
Willing to let the matter go for the time being, I nodded and followed her through the doors.
The great hall was a far cry from the lavish spectacle it had been the night before. Though it remained empty of its long wooden tables and benches, most of the decorations had been discarded, save for the drooping flowers.
The large space was filled to capacity with grim-looking servants and nobility alike, some whispering, some weeping. Tension thickened the atmosphere, stifling the room as much as the assembled bodies.
The king stood on the dais, wearing a somber expression. “I’ve gathered you here today because, undoubtedly, you have heard the rumors circulating the castle grounds this morning,” he said. “I regret to inform you that, early this morning, the body of Lord Hywell was discovered.”
A wave of murmurs rolled through the hall, but not a single person looked surprised. The news must have spread fast.
“We are all understandably shocked and devastated by this loss. In particular,” he added, his gaze turning towards a figure draped in black, “our deepest sympathies go towards Lady Livia, whom he has left behind.”
Despite the king’s words of consolation, Livia remained motionless, her expression devoid of any visible reaction. It was as if the news of her husband’s fate had drained the essence of life from her, leaving behind a shell.
“You may have heard details of how he came to pass,” the king continued, his voice grave. “I am saddened to confirm that Lord Hywell was murdered.”
Once again, not a single person in the hall looked surprised by this revelation.
“Who could have committed such an atrocity remains to be seen, but I assure you all that we will find the murderer and show no mercy. The Royal Guard has begun its investigation and I have no doubt the culprit will be apprehended and severely punished.
“In the meantime,” he continued, his gaze sweeping across the crowd, “I ask for your cooperation during this process. The Royal Guard will be questioning every person that was on the castle grounds last night. Please be truthful with them and report any unusual behavior so we may identify this monster.” There was a brief flicker of emotion in his eyes.
“Finally, as is customary, we shall spend the next few days grieving Lord Hywell. His Ceremony of Rites will be held on the third day at dusk. The Autumn Hunt will go ahead as planned. Until then, you are all dismissed.”
The king turned on his heel and strode purposefully out of the great hall, escorted by half a dozen heavily-armed guards. They disappeared through an exit at the rear of the room, undoubtedly reserved for royal use.
People began filing out the room, talking amongst themselves. I scanned the crowd and saw a solemn Tarben talking quietly to Magnus. Feeling my gaze on him, he offered me a small, morose wave.
Oriane was standing a few feet from Tarben, surrounded by ladies I recognized from the night before. She looked unusually subdued while the rest of her companions spoke in hushed tones. It seemed odd that she was not spearheading the gossip that was rapidly circulating the great hall.
As if my thoughts had summoned her, she caught me staring and shot me a glare that could only be rivaled by Prince Hugo. I really needed to stop making enemies at this court.
Once I’d returned Oriane’s unfriendly expression in kind, I looked around the room again. Amalie was ushered away by her lady’s maid, while Hugo stood with his guards, silently assessing the crowd with his shrewd eyes. My chest tightened as I recalled our earlier conversation.
Livia was being comforted by a group of nobles.
I would have to offer her my condolences, but now didn’t seem like the best time.
Not with every remaining man and woman descending on her all at once.
Some of the courtiers wept performatively, while others quietly chattered amongst themselves, barely able to contain the perverse thrill of something so exciting happening at the castle.
Feeling heavy, I made my way back to my bedchamber. I knew I had work to do, but I was exhausted. So unbelievably exhausted. All I wanted was to lie down.
By the time I reached my bedchamber, I was ready to dive into my bed, but a flash of white on the floor caught my eye.
It was another envelope.