The Announcement
COLSAR
Rathmor Palace, Veynar
He told them in the throne room because the throne room was where you told Veynar things that needed to be true before anyone could argue with them.
The council was already assembled by the time he arrived. Word traveled faster than he did. That told him something.
He stood at the head of the room and looked at them and said it plainly.
"Queen Asharin is dead."
The room fell silent.
"The circumstances are not yet fully known," he said. "What is known is that the Threns were docked the very night she was assaulted. One can draw conclusions from that." He paused. "I am drawing mine."
He let that sit.
“However, deathmages assaulted the palace that night as well. Many of you witnessed it yourselves.”
"King Sevrin is missing. His whereabouts are currently unknown.
In his absence I am acting as regent. The heir to Veynar is Fiorakis, daughter of Queen Asharin.
That is not a discussion. That is a fact.
" He looked around the room. "The children and the Queen's body are being transported to Alarna immediately.
They will be received there with the full honors owed to them.
" He paused. "When Veynar is deemed safe again, the children will return. "
He dismissed the room.
Arabar was waiting in the corridor.
He fell into step without being asked.
"I have a list," Arabar said quietly.
"Of?"
"Suspects. People in the palace that evening who should not have been. People who were not there who should have been." A pause. "And one other thing."
Colsar looked at him.
"Wyn is dead. Her body was found approximately ten paces from the Great Hall. She had been dead for some time before your queen was poisoned."
Colsar stopped walking.
He stood in the corridor and looked at the wall. Wyn had stood outside doors and carried children and never once asked for anything except to be useful.
He drew a breath.
"General Rorin?" He said.
"Missing. His quarters are empty. His men cannot account for him since the night of the dinner."
"Find him."
"We are looking."
He nodded and kept walking. "The Avanki. Where were they that night?"
"Redirected," Arabar said carefully. "Various postings. None of them from a single order. It looks scattered. Organic."
"Or designed to look organic."
Arabar said nothing.
"Who gave the redirections?"
"That is what I cannot yet account for cleanly. The orders came through several channels. Not one source."
Colsar looked at him. "Find the source."
He stopped. "My mother and Tamal of Yorali. Where are they?"
"The Queen Dowager is at Filar House. Prince Tamal left Veynar the night of the dinner. His whereabouts are unknown."
"Find Tamal," he said. "Until a killer is named he does not move freely." He paused. "My mother stays at Filar House. She does not return to the eastern court. I want people watching her, quietly, people she will not recognize. And I want Filar House searched for any signs of poison."
Arabar looked at him. "Your mother, Majesty?"
"She was the last person I spoke to before Asharin was poisoned. She told me something that sent me running back to the palace." He paused. "I do not know yet whether that was intentional. Until I do, she does not leave."
Arabar nodded.
"Our first order of business is eyes on Asharin," Colsar said.
"Teorin cannot be trusted. I did not send Asharin to Morrath because I trusted him.
I sent her because I had no choice." He stopped and grabbed Arabar's arm.
"Eravic Vaelor is known for his honesty.
I have never liked the way he looks at her.
But that is my problem and right now I need someone who will not lie to me about what he sees.
" He paused. "Travel directly to his ship.
Find him yourself. Give him the news in person.
Tell him I need eyes in Morrath. I assume he can enter.
They always say there is nowhere a Vaelor cannot go. "
Arabar nodded.
"Junis should be on board with him. I assume he will bring Vaelor’s ship to dock here in Veynar. Once he arrives, he can help. He is one of the few people left that I trust.”
"And Alarna?"
"Send word to Syle and Uralish. Quietly. Tell them the regent of Veynar is requesting their presence and their assistance bringing the killer to justice. They will understand what I am asking."
"And the Fyrekin council?"
"I need more of them here. More council members. Send word." He paused. "Do it through channels I can verify."
Arabar nodded once and went.
Colsar stood alone in the corridor.
He closed his eyes.
The Wanderer came without sound, which was not how things that large usually arrived.
It filled the corridor with heat and the smell of something ancient, its red wings folding as it landed, its eyes finding him with the intelligence of creatures that had been doing this longer than anyone alive could account for.
He opened his right palm. The mark Kentan had pressed there was faint but present, the burn long since healed into something permanent. He held it up.
The wanderer dipped its head.
Then it was gone, through the palace wall and into whatever was between here and Urasal, carrying nothing and everything, its wings leaving a warmth in the corridor that faded slowly.
Colsar looked at his empty hand.
Then he started walking.
He walked back through the palace with his face arranged into nothing. Guards straightened as he passed. Servants moved out of his way. He did not look at any of them.
He walked past the throne room. Past the Great Hall with its boarded window, the glass still not fully cleared from the floor. Past the corridor where Wyn had been found. He did not look at any of it.
Their chambers were at the end of the east wing.
He went in and closed the door behind him and stood in the dark for a moment. The room smelled like her. He had not expected that. He did not know why he had not expected that.
He crossed to the bed and sat on her side and pressed his face into her pillow and stayed there.
It smelled like her hair. Like the warmth of her skin in the mornings when she had not yet fully woken up and would reach for him without opening her eyes.
He stayed there for a long time.
His mind drifted to the Moon Chambers. He had never gotten to show them to her. Never gotten to see her face when she saw the plants, the chocolate fountain, and every other ridiculous little detail he had added because he knew they would make her smile.
He had pretended it had needed to be prepared from disuse.
In truth, he had wanted it prepared with everything she loved.
An ordinary garden would have been boring.
He had asked them to find strange fruits that could survive in such an environment.
He had wanted so badly to see her face when she saw it.
He had even had them prepare a bed almost twice the size of anything they had ever slept on, so the children could snuggle comfortably during story time.
It was probably ready by now.
If she were here, they would have read to the children and then pretended to retire early.
Then they would bathe together. She would run her fingers through his hair while he told her every unnecessary detail of the day’s council meetings, and she would listen.
She would give her opinion. She would remember the smallest details from the day before because she always did.
He had spent his entire life shutting himself away from everyone. But with her, somehow, he had been able to be himself. He could set down the weight of the world every night and simply exist.
After their bath, she would admonish him for sneaking Fiorakis blood while she dressed for dinner, and he would pretend he had forgotten he was not supposed to.
Sometimes she would come up with other things to scold him about.
Most recently his hair.
She had asked to trim it one day, then told him she had read in the Alarnan libraries that lightcraft could be used to cut hair.
He had told her she must have misread, because trimming hair most certainly required scissors. He had refused, told her she was not qualified, and threatened to ask one of the old Matrons to do it instead.
He did it just to see her laugh. Just to have her punch his arm so he could lift her and carry her to bed.
She would stop him at some point when words no longer mattered, and she would remind him that no Matron could do the trim. That no one could touch his hair or any other part of him except for her.
Her possessiveness always aroused him.
With the Moon Chambers, he had planned it all out. When they were finished, he would show her every room. Their dining suite. The places where they would sit with their children. He would have roast fowl prepared and a strawberry cake waiting.
His Asha Bear loved strawberry cake. She preferred that he feed it to her.
He loved that.
She had spent so much of her life being hurt. Used. Abused.
He had promised himself he would always protect her.
Yet in the end, she had been poisoned and discarded like she was nothing.
The sound that left him did not belong to anything human. He pressed the pillow harder against his face, trying to keep the walls from hearing it.