Chapter 69
Translation
Moeller took Damien, Evelyn, and Leo to see Councilor Wendell.
They were told the ancient fae had an office in a remote corner of the castle.
So Evelyn couldn’t understand why Moeller brought them into a large storage space, a labyrinth of three-meter-tall stacks of books waiting to be reshelved.
It wasn’t until they found a white-haired man muttering at a desk in the back of the room that it became clear they were already in Wendell’s office.
“He’s tidied up a bit since I was here last,” Damien whispered.
“Regium stultum nimis occupatus est ad proprias investigationes faciendas. Probabiliter bibliotheca quid sit ne scit quidem,” Wendell grumbled as he scribbled something onto faded parchment.
“Good morning, Wendell,” Moeller said loudly.
Wendell sighed with the long-suffering exhaustion of a forgotten deity.
He slowly stood to face them. His black eyes were startling, his pupils permanently dilated from thousands of years reading in low lighting.
He had ghostly pale skin and white hair, but his shirt and trousers were dark.
Evelyn had seen illustrations of the human life cycle, but Wendell looked even older than the pictures of elderly mortals.
“Hello, Councilor Wendell,” Leo began. “I am—”
“The juvenile king,” Wendell interrupted before turning his attention to Evelyn and Damien. “The whore’s child and the reckless warrior. I know.”
Wendell’s voice was strong, a striking contrast to his apparently frail body. Leo blinked at him. Evelyn’s fingertips heated, ready to throw flames at the old man.
Damien waved. “Good to see you, too, Wendy! It’s been—”
An invisible burst of magic hit Damien’s midsection and sent him flying backward. He hit a pile of books and collapsed to the floor. Evelyn started toward him, but Moeller held out an arm to block her.
“Oof,” Damien grunted.
“Ophelia should’ve killed you during the war.” Wendell seethed.
“I forgot you don’t like nicknames,” Damien said, rising to his feet. “My apologies.”
“How dare you!” Evelyn shouted at Wendell. “We’re here asking for help and you attack us?”
Wendell stared down his nose at her. “Are you under the impression you have power here just because someone important wants to fuck you? I see the similarity with your mother now.”
Sparks erupted from Evelyn’s fingers. She lurched at Wendell, but Damien wrapped both arms around her and dragged her backward. Evelyn thrashed, but he wouldn’t let go.
“Stop!” Damien hissed in her ear. “You’re fine. This gets way worse if you burn his books.”
Was Wendell referring to Leo or Haydn? The king or the councilor? How much does he know about me? How well did he know my mother?
Leo stepped forward. “You have insulted the Queen of Gryon and assaulted a captain in the Royal Army. Is this how you treat all of your allies?”
“What allies?” Wendell snapped. “You cry about secrets and murder, then have me translate this horseshit?” He tossed the sketches, which scattered across the floor.
“So you know what the symbols mean?” Moeller asked, sounding bored.
“Of course I do,” Wendell muttered. “If you had studied languages as much as I advised, you would too.”
Moeller sighed. “Will you please tell the children about the translations so I can send them home?”
Wendell narrowed his eyes on Leo. “King. Queen. Prince. Princess. Heir.”
Leo shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“Your guards were carved up with every variation of those five words in five dead languages. Does that help you solve your murders? I have better things to do than translate Princess a dozen more times.”
“How can that be it? No threats or clues, just titles?”
“You would have to ask the person who cut the words into their skin,” Moeller said unhelpfully.
“Thank you, Wendell,” Damien called over Evelyn’s shoulder. “We appreciate it!”
Wendell glared at them before sitting down at his desk again. “Homicida reginam a scolari custodit. Regnum cadet et ne scient quidem.”
Moeller ushered them into the hallway.
“Did anyone else notice Wendy was in a bad mood?” Damien quipped.
“What the fuck is his problem?” Evelyn demanded.
“Wendell gets grumpy when he’s bored,” Moeller said. “He found the translation task disappointing.”
“We aren’t here for his amusement!”
“And yet, tossing Fontaine around is the most excitement Wendell will experience for a decade.”
Damien rubbed the back of his head. “Glad to be of service.”
“Wendell gave us the translation we asked for,” Leo said.
“But it’s useless,” Evelyn argued. “King, queen, prince, princess, heir. That tells us nothing!”
“We agreed to help you translate,” Moeller reminded her. “It’s not our fault that your murderer has a limited vocabulary.”
“It’s time for us to leave,” Leo decided before Evelyn could start cursing. “Thank you for welcoming us here. We will be on our way as soon as everyone is packed.”
Leo took Evelyn’s hand and headed toward their room. Damien followed, whispering an update to Rory and Simon.
“Doesn’t it bother you that we didn’t learn anything?” Evelyn asked.
“This wasn’t a waste of time,” Leo replied. “We know the killer’s priority is the royal family. Maybe both families, yours and mine. It’s all about heirs and succession.”
“But what do they want? And if the message isn’t complicated, why did they bother to write the words in dead languages?”
“It’s almost like they wanted us to come here,” Damien said, adding himself to the conversation. “They knew none of us would understand the symbols.”
Evelyn considered it. “Did they want us to go to Lochmatten, or just leave Gryon?”
“If it’s the second option, we should get home quickly.”
They rounded a corner and saw Haydn approaching.
“I need a moment before you go, Your Majesty,” he said, catching Evelyn’s elbow. The Bargain magic wouldn’t let her shake him off.
Leo scowled and continued walking.
Damien frowned. “What’s this about?”
“Nothing of concern,” Haydn said lightly. “I’ll return her to you soon, Fontaine.”
“It’s fine,” Evelyn lied. “Go get packed. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”
Damien silently checked in with Simon and Rory before following Leo.
Evelyn turned to Haydn. “I need to go with my husband.”
“That’s what we need to talk about.”
Haydn took her into a sitting room and closed the door, locking her guards out. “Stay in Lochmatten with me.”
“I’m married,” Evelyn reminded him.
“You will be mine. And it will be a lot easier if you agree to that now.”
“You have to let me go, Haydn.”
He laced their fingers together. “I can’t do that, love. You and I are meant to be together, and we will be. So why not save us the trouble of fighting later? Just say yes.”
“No!” Evelyn ripped her hands away.
“I will have you,” he whispered. “I’ve made plans for us.”
“I don’t care!”
“This is your last chance before I make the decision for you. Stay with me.”
“I. Am. Not. Yours.”
Haydn stared at Evelyn for several heartbeats before a wicked smile crossed his face. “Fine. I will see you very soon, my love.”