Chapter 17
XVII.
Torren
Terrance, Suh, and Eyo wanted the matter closed, yet Kerasea voted to allow me to investigate. Is one of them the murderer? Terrance’s and Eyo’s sentries were in the pool with Antinous. Either could have dropped in the lapis. But why frame Kerasea?
When I found the temple knife, I thought she could secretly be a cold-blooded killer, but every time I observe her, she seems genuine. My gut says she isn’t a murderess. And if I’m right, then she’s in grave danger.
I groan at myself. What difference does it make? She is not my charge. I have no reason to protect her. My duty is first and only to the Senate.
One by one, I interview the ten household servants, six Senate pages, six sentries, and the servant to the High Priestess. The sun lowers in the sky as I scribble codes on my notepad.
Although it takes all afternoon, every single person is predictably useless.
No one saw or heard anything, but I had to question them to note personalities, tells, and inconsistencies.
I spent extra time with Sentry Avarre and Sentry Calais, the men I found moving Antinous’s body, but to no avail.
Calais was on duty late last night, and Avarre was asleep.
Both of these stories were confirmed by other sentries, so once again, I have no leads.
I now need to locate Antinous’s chambers. The problem, of course, is that whoever killed him had hours to find his rooms, but that was true before we discovered his body. Given the choice, I opted to record everyone’s stories first. That way, I can question them again if I find evidence.
Somehow, I doubt I will.
Still, I begin my search on the ground floor. Antinous had taken the stairs to this level after talking to Kerasea.
The servant quarters are cramped and sparse compared to the rest of the palace; however, they are dry and temperate, thus better than most of the tenements in the Northside of the capital.
Jubilee once had three hundred servants sharing these fifty bedchambers and communal toilets. Now, there are only ten, but I still have all these rooms to search.
No nobleman would ordinarily choose to stay in this warren, but Antinous might’ve, since he didn’t want to be seen.
Using a skeleton key, I open and close door after door, but either the rooms belong to the servants or they are empty.
I proceed up to the first floor. I doubt he was staying in a ballroom or drawing room, but I have to look.
Nothing—no sign of him.
The second floor won’t be used this conclave, and as I unlock the doors, I realize this would be an excellent place to hide.
Seven rooms in, I find Antinous’s chambers.
As soon as I push the door open, it is obvious that I am not the first to arrive. The chambers are ransacked, from the feather bed cut open to books and papers strewn over the floor.
His chambers being here and not on the ground floor means he was already heading to the baths when he left the kitchens.
That entirely rules out Kerasea.
With a sigh, I force myself to focus. One thing, one place at a time. I inhale, clear my mind, and begin to inventory the scene. Whoever ransacked this room probably found what they were looking for, but each paper left behind could yield a clue, and each book could contain a hidden secret.
“I thought he was neat and tidy,” Julian says from the open doorway.
“How did you find me?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I mean…it’s a locked palace. There are only so many places you could be.”
I harrumph, but he’s correct. It’s how I found this room.
Julian walks in and glances around at the knocked-over shelves and floating feathers.
“Still think it was an accidental drowning?” I ask.
“Maybe he had an episode of some sort,” Julian says.
I shoot Julian an unamused look as he plays with a paperweight. “Are you going to compromise this scene, too?”
He sighs, eyes praying to the ceiling. “Are we going to go over this again? At the time, I thought it was a simple accident. I believed we should get Antinous’s body out of the water so you could confirm it. Obviously, I was wrong.”
“Why did you volunteer to serve as Senate Clerk?” I ask.
I study him, but he’s not thrown by my sudden change in topic. Either he expected the question or he’s used to the way I interrogate people.
He shrugs, his air casual. “To be helpful. There’s no one else who can do it. Kerasea, maybe, but they already have her serving as the deadlock vote.”
Hearing her name reminds me of the lapis sitting in my pocket. It didn’t appear that her robe was missing any stones, so where did it come from?
Julian takes a step forward, crushing some papers under his boot. I frown. I still need to inventory those.
“Torren, stop. I can almost feel you digging your own grave as soon as her name is mentioned. Leave her be.”
“You seemed awfully close to her at dinner last night.”
I can’t hide the bitterness in my tone. It’s double jealousy. He’s my closest friend, and even if she’s not a suspect, I’ve hated her for a dozen years. There shouldn’t be a relationship between them.
His smile fades as he stands straighter. “Are we really going to do this?”
“You’ve been dead set against my investigating her from the start. Is there a reason for that?”
Julian shoves his hands in his pockets. “Because you don’t have permission to break un exorum.
These people are dangerous—her included.
Not because she’s a murderer—I don’t think either of us really believes that she killed these men.
But if she ever realizes how much power she has, she will be a danger to the republic.
With Verhardt dead, the senators are trying to court her for her blessing because the Faith follows her like a dog at heel—nobility and commoner alike—with more fervor than they did for her father.
You and I both know there are issues with the republic, and it never takes much for holy rule to spread its roots.
But most importantly, you are up for reappointment.
You have to tread carefully, or you are going to get yourself censured—or worse. ”
“So you’re not trying to bed her?” I ask.
He lets his head fall back, his hands balling into fists and the lump in his throat bobbing. “Did you hear a word I said?”
“That’s not a denial.” I ignore the tightness in my chest and continue to catalog the papers. Ledgers of the Senate expenses, missives from the frontier, and demands from emissaries from Arthago are all mingled together. Strange this was left behind. Why not take it all and burn it?
“You’re obsessed, Tor,” Julian says. “You have been obsessed with the Vestals since I’ve known you, but this thing now with Kerasea is something else. Is it because you can’t have her?”
I straighten to my full height as he brings up the real, unspoken difference between us. Julian is a noble from the Southside, the same as Kerasea. He is free to court whomever he pleases, including someone like her, whereas I could not. But he has never rubbed it in my face.
Not until now.
“Say that again.”
He drops his shoulders slightly. “This is madness. I’m not going to stand here and fight with you when I’m trying to protect you. You are letting whatever it is you feel about the High Priestess cloud your judgment. And this is a terrible time to lose objectivity.”
“I am not.”
He takes a step closer to me. “You are, and I can prove it.”
I pause, my silence question enough.
“You haven’t even properly conducted an inquiry into Verhardt’s murder,” he says. “Do you know who the last person was to see him alive?”
I bristle, but Julian is correct. I haven’t because I’ve had no chance to do so. “No. Lady Verhardt was too ‘indisposed’ to speak with me, and she refused to let me interview her son or household staff. Which speaks to her guilt, not innocence. Perhaps when we get back to the capital—”
“It was me, Torren.”
My heart stops. One moment, two, as our eyes meet, and the chamber feels too small and too warm. But Julian calmly holds my gaze.
“I was the last person to see him alive at his villa,” he continues.
“A group of sentries and I walked Verhardt back, and then I stayed at his request. He and I had a glass of brandy, and then I left at nearly four in the morning. Are you going to investigate me now or just continue to obsess over Kerasea?”
Without waiting for a response, he shakes his head and walks out of the chambers.
I remain frozen in his wake. It’s the first argument we’ve ever had, but the suspicion he just cast could end not only our friendship but the republic.
Because the nephew of the general and the future patron of the Monroe family just admitted that he had the opportunity to kill the Senate Leader.