Chapter 14 #2
“Well, finally!” Senator Terrance’s voice booms, and he moves his white head like a swan, staring between the two men. “Where is the Senate Clerk, Commander Monroe? I assumed you’d bring him here so that we could begin.”
“He is dead,” the Praetorian says.
The throne room is completely silent as a small yelp escapes my lips.
The high-pitched sound echoes as I close my eyes and try to breathe.
I thought Antinous was being paranoid last night or was just drunk—at least that is what I told myself.
I thought that no one would dare harm him at the conclave. But now he is dead.
And since we are locked in, at least one person at Jubilee is responsible.
I look around the room, trying not to shudder as I take in each suspect—the older faces of Terrance, Medea, and Suh and then the younger senators.
There are no tears, but also no guilty expressions.
They all seem vaguely surprised, with lined brows or narrowed eyes.
Really, they are reacting as if they were told the kitchens have no more orange juice—put out but not weeping.
Suh runs a hand over his goatee, and Eyo raises his eyebrows.
But I can only read so much truth from people who constantly wear masks.
“We found him drowned in the thermal baths,” Julian adds.
Senator Suh twirls his cane. “What an unfortunate accident.”
“This certainly is a development,” Medea adds.
“It’s for the best,” Eyo says. “I’m sure he didn’t want to live without being attached to Verhardt’s teat.”
Again, there’s mild laughter from Terrance and Foreau.
I bite the inside of my lip. Antinous was a faithful servant to the Council for more than twenty years.
He risked his own life conspiring to murder the king.
My father told me it was Antinous’s idea for the Senate to kneel and publicly present their bloody daggers before the god of truth.
There’s nothing funny about this.
The Praetorian steps forward. “No one said it was an accident.”
That sobers the Council. I grip my robes as my golden necklace feels like lead on my chest. Stares volley around the room, some puzzled, others skeptical.
Senator Foreau looks at Torren and steeples his bejeweled brown hands in front of his lips. “What are you implying, Praetorian?”
“His death is suspicious,” Torren replies. “Drowning in a four-foot-deep hot pool is uncommon for an adult.”
Senator Paolo spins his sapphire ring. “The pools are five feet deep. Surely that could’ve been an accident.” He looks around for agreement, and Terrance nods.
“It could’ve been, but it could also have been foul play,” Torren says. “I will need to investigate.”
“I’m sure there’s no argument here.” Senator Medea waves her arm, fingers sweeping the air.
The Praetorian waits, eyeing each senator in turn, but when no one objects, he nods. Of course, that doesn’t mean he has permission to investigate the senators or me. He can question the sentries, pages, and servants only.
“I think we all are neglecting the bigger issue here.” Senator Terrance raps his knuckles on the table. He stands straight and speaks so loudly that his voice echoes.
The Praetorian pauses, and relief flushes through me. Finally, someone will point out that this death on the heels of Verhardt’s murder is no coincidence and therefore, there is a killer among us.
“We have no clerk now,” Terrance says. “We cannot have the conclave without a clerk. We are in a bind, as fetching someone from the capital will take at least a full day—if we even can agree on the right person to serve us.”
I widen my eyes. That’s it? That is his sole concern?
“I can do it,” Julian says from the doorway.
Torren stares, surprise written on his face. I didn’t expect that, either, but Julian did say he has little to do this week.
“Perfect, then it’s settled.” Senator Suh claps his large hands. “Thank you for your service, Commander. We can now finally begin. Our pages will show you what is necessary for the resolutions, and they will do all the filing. We just need you to tally the votes and sign the laws as acting clerk.”
Julian nods and then leaves the room. Torren watches from the corner of his eyes. There’s a wrinkle of concern on his brow, and then it vanishes.
“Am I correct in assuming that none of you saw Antinous at Jubilee?” the Praetorian asks.
He knows very well that I did, but he is asking the senators. He has to tread carefully because of un exorum. It’s bold that Torren even asked the question when they will vote on his reappointment this week.
Senator Eyo frowns as everyone stays silent.
What was that?
Foreau shakes his head. “Of course we didn’t.”
“Certainly not.” Terrance wrinkles his nose as if he smells something foul.
They are lying. The untruth seeps into my skin like oil. Are they covering the truth because they don’t want to appear guilty or because they are?
Suh folds his thick fingers. “Praetorian, we have business to attend to. You are certainly not interrogating the Council, am I correct?”
“That is correct,” Torren replies. “I was inquiring as to whether anyone knew where he was staying to make it easier for us to locate his chambers.”
The group visibly relaxes.
“We do not,” Eyo says with finality.
“We’ll receive your report at lunch, then,” Paolo says softly.
Thus dismissed, the Praetorian turns, but not before locking eyes with me. If he was listening at the kitchens, he heard what Antinous said—the Senate conspires. Whoever murdered Verhardt also wanted him dead, and they acted upon it.
Someone in this room is guilty of double murder, and we are the only ones who seem concerned by this fact.
An invisible string now links me to Torren, but is that a good thing? I suppose it depends on whether both murders were carried out by the Praetorian himself.