Chapter 17
Seventeen
Three of the ladies took up one couch—Jade recognized Marguerite’s younger sister Sylvie with her and Alanna—and Lady Helene, the future duchess of Evenshold, sat on the other with Arabella.
They sat in awkward silence, as though trying to figure out what to talk about given the events in the dining room.
Marguerite caught sight of Jade and perked up.
“Elena, come have a seat.” Marguerite gestured to the sofa with two occupants, and Arabella scooted in toward the middle at her cousin’s indication.
Jade obeyed, taking a seat beside Lady Arabella. She glanced at Jade as she sat down, anger still clearly roiling under her skin, but she kept it at bay.
“This is Lady Elena Tavigne,” Marguerite began as soon as Jade reached the sofa. “Of Ellyris. She was at my birthday ball as a guest of Harry’s, and I invited her back here tonight to surprise him.”
If the women weren’t going to talk about the sorcerer footman, Jade wasn’t going to bring it up. She was here for other reasons, anyway. And sitting beside Arabella might help to build their future association.
“You’ve met Alanna already.” Marguerite didn’t miss a beat as she continued with the introductions, indicating each person in turn. “And this is my sister Sylvie, my sister-in-law Helene, and Lady Arabella of Fellsrin. But I’m sure you know that. Who doesn’t?”
“It’s quite the honor to meet you, my lady.” Jade bowed at the neck beside Arabella, her eyes wide with awe.
Arabella offered a strained smile in reply, her amber eyes glinting in the room’s dim light. “After what transpired? Not everyone would feel the same.”
Jade let her lips part in the appearance of mild shock, as if the debutante Elena might not have expected such a response from the rightful future princess.
She allowed a moment for her to gather her thoughts before she responded to the lady, prepared to tread lightly.
While she didn’t want to stand in stark opposition to Arabella under such circumstances, neither did she want to praise her for taking a stand and potentially alienate herself.
“It was such a shock to everyone,” Jade said, glancing around at the other faces and receiving nods of affirmation. “You only did what you thought was right.” There. Keep the beliefs firmly on Arabella.
“Mmm,” Arabella replied, pensive. “And what good did it do?”
Jade cleared her throat and dropped her gaze to her clasped hands on her lap, choosing to say nothing further and instead act ashamed for saying too much.
“It’s not in vain, Bella,” Alanna spoke up, her soft voice a caress through the air. “The servants will talk. People will see that you stand by what you say. It is a profound quality for a queen.”
Arabella gave her sister a small, genuine smile at that, and Alanna returned the expression, the conversation continuing wordlessly in their gaze. The interaction spoke volumes to Jade. Alanna took pride in her sister, but the true gravity of the situation was not lost on her.
The relaxed postures of the gathered women after Alanna’s admission gave Jade insight as well, pointing to the fact that they all wholeheartedly supported Arabella. It was curious, to be sure, and Jade wondered if the support for her rule extended to support for her stance and actions.
Perhaps Marguerite had truly meant what she said at the masquerade. She preferred her cousin over her own father, Lord Grannam, to become the kingdom’s next monarch. Jade filed away the information to explore later.
With the slight change in demeanor of the group, Jade lifted her head and tried again to make conversation with Arabella, changing the subject to something much more trivial.
She didn’t want to draw any unnecessary suspicion to herself.
And the quickest way she knew to gain a noble lady’s favor was through a shower of compliments.
“Your gown is beautiful, my lady. The color is perfect for your complexion.”
Arabella smoothed the skirts on her lap, straightening her shoulders as though to release the burden from them.
“It was supposed to be more burgundy than plum, but our seamstress doesn’t seem to know the difference.
” She tipped up her chin, extending her long neck as she looked down at Jade.
“I prefer reds. They evoke a sense of strength and power, do they not?”
“Most assuredly,” Jade replied with her brows drawn. “Your gown at the masquerade was a prime example. I adored that deep red.”
The women dove into a discussion of dresses, putting aside the events of the dining room.
Marguerite and Alanna even brought up the seamstress Jade had fabricated at the masquerade.
Jade continued the line of conversation with ease, complimenting the imaginary woman’s skills on the light blue gown she currently wore.
Once the conversation reached a natural pause, Jade leaned forward in her seat and met Marguerite’s eyes.
“I’m afraid I need to make use of your lavatory. Would you be able to tell me how to find it?”
“Oh, of course!” Marguerite rose and glided to the door of the sitting room where she and Jade had first entered, which connected to a passage off the entrance hall.
Jade followed her to the doorway, where Marguerite stopped and pointed to the left.
“Take this corridor until it ends, then make a left and the lavatory will be the second room on the right. Would you like me to accompany you?”
Jade smiled sweetly and shook her head. “Oh, you’re terribly kind, but I’ll be all right. Thank you.”
“Don’t be gone too long,” Marguerite continued as Jade stepped into the passage. “We’re about to pull out the cards for a game or two.”
“All right, but feel free to start without me,” Jade said with a couple of sideways steps. “I’ll join in for another game.”
With a nod, Marguerite turned back to the other ladies, and Jade began in the direction of the lavatory.
Down the hallway, she passed the smoking room, the low murmur of the men’s voices muffled behind the walls.
She slowed to listen, trying to pick out Grannam’s voice.
Simon said something that received a rumble of laughter in approval.
Her clock was ticking, and she needed every second she could get, but determining Grannam’s location was crucial to this working.
Jade glanced up and down the hallway. Still empty. She held her breath as she crept closer to the door, her footfalls silent on the plush carpeting, and leaned an ear in as close to the door as she dared. She was no longer Elena, the noble lady. She was once again Jade, the intelligence agent.
The voices other than Simon’s were so low that Jade couldn’t pinpoint whom they belonged to.
With a final survey of the hallway to ensure no one might happen upon her, Jade closed her eyes, putting herself more at risk but also sharpening her other senses.
She forced her mind to home in on the sounds, listening intently for the distinct cadence of Grannam’s voice.
There. Grannam spoke quietly, but Jade managed to hear enough to place him in the smoking room.
Now it was time to move.
She rounded the next corner slowly, her eyes peeled for anyone, staff or otherwise, roaming the corridors, but when she determined the coast was clear, she picked up her pace.
Jade passed the lavatory and continued to another passage, where she hung a right and located a back staircase. She stopped at the bottom and listened before taking the steps two at a time to the second story.
The war room wasn’t far, and in this wing of the palace at this time of evening, she wasn’t likely to run into any staff. They were either in the kitchens cleaning up after dinner or preparing bedrooms on the other side of the grand house.
The only sound Jade heard was her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. The thrill of a job always made her heart race, even though she rarely felt nervous or anxious anymore. She relied on her skills enough to not allow room for fear. But still, the anticipation excited her.
Though Jade had surveilled Evenshold Palace many times before, she’d never made it inside the war room. Getting this far without being granted access inside the house was tricky. The best she’d ever done was to peer through the windows from the outside, which were always shut and locked.
Jade placed a delicate hand on the knob, but it didn’t turn.
Of course the door was locked, but she’d had to try.
She slipped two hairpins out of her twisted updo and stuck them in the lock, maneuvering them together until the lock clicked.
Jade opened the door and slipped inside, closing and locking it behind her and returning the pins to her hair.
Darkness engulfed her. Only the tiniest slivers of light came through the cracks around the doorway, and Jade used them to pick her way through the room until she found a lamp, careful not to overturn or disturb anything.
She clicked on the electric lamp and broke through the blackness.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough for her to see by. She would make it work.
Lord Grannam’s war room was as neat as a pin, as though it was never used.
A long table sat in the center, surrounded by chairs.
Jade had seen Grannam and many of his advisors and supporters in those same chairs not three months ago, when she had been investigating his role in The Claim.
At the time, the table had been laden with papers, maps, and books, but now its surface was clear and shiny.
Two long, low cabinets sat on either wall opposite each other, with nothing but a lamp and a few books atop each of them.
Jade had presumed the war room the most likely place to find evidence of Grannam’s poison purchase, but perhaps the study was a better choice. At least she could make easy work of the cabinets and be on her way.
Picking the cabinet on the right, Jade opened a drawer and rifled through a stack of files inside. Her eyes widened at the gold mine before her. If she could take each and every one of these documents, she would.
Some weren’t as valuable, pertaining to things that were common knowledge or had already happened, but then she happened upon a file labeled “A.” Jade pulled it out and scanned over the documents inside.
Lists, notes, and a letter. She paused at the letter, separating it from the other documents to read it completely.
You think you flatter me, but you are mistaken, Your Grace.
I am the best choice for this kingdom, and it is not only me who thinks so. I have the support of someone great who will ensure I see victory.
My father is misguided. He may seem noble and good-hearted to the people of the kingdom, but he can be cruel. I know what he was responsible for eleven years ago. I cannot forgive him for it, even if he is my own father.
I believe I have made my position clear, and many people appreciate me for it.
I will bring an end to the brutal killings of those unfortunate enough to be born with magic and who are unable to hide it.
More sorcerers and sorceresses live among us than we know, but they have become adept at concealing their abilities.
The practice my father champions is heartless, and I won’t allow it to continue.
So, no, Your Grace. You cannot expect me to be complacent while I lose my advisors and my people suffer. Every day my father is allowed to reign is another that innocent people will die, and you will be no better.
-A
The letter shook as Jade’s hands trembled.
Arabella had written the letter to Grannam; that much was clear.
And it was no secret that her father perpetuated the practice of executing anyone found to have magic.
Jade thought the population of sorcerers and sorceresses was dwindling with the culling over the years, but Arabella said they were just hiding it.
Like the footman. He’d clearly been working in service for a while, which meant he’d kept his magic hidden.
How many magic-wielders lived in fear of their lives every single day?
How many got away with using their magic on unsuspecting citizens?
But two bigger questions remained that lodged in Jade’s mind: What had Prince Reynauld been responsible for eleven years ago? And who was the “someone great” who ensured Arabella’s victory?
Jade memorized the letter and returned it to the file.
It wasn’t what she was there for, and it contained no real evidence when it came to stopping either Grannam or Arabella from attempting their coups.
Neither did she want Grannam to realize it was missing later when it was nothing she could use against him.
She picked up another file, moving more quickly now. Marguerite might come looking for her if she wasn’t back soon. The remaining files in the drawer proved useless, so Jade opened the next one.
A small wooden box sat in the bottom of the drawer.
She reached inside and retrieved it, then flipped open the nondescript lid, and an acrid scent hit her.
Jade’s hand flew over her nose and mouth, and she drew in a deep inhale behind her hand.
Definitely poison. She held her breath while she peered closely at the powdery substance inside, coarse and tinted yellow with occasional brown granules.
It wasn’t rienevoir, the killer’s poison of choice, which was a clear, odorless liquid, but that didn’t necessarily mean Reynauld hadn’t provided it to a hired assassin. Maybe his rienevoir supply had run out and he had obtained a different poison to allow his murderer to continue his work.
She pulled away from the box and took a small sniff, not wanting to inhale more than she had to, and the sharp scent stung her nose.
An acid, to be sure. Not undetectable like rienevoir, so a killer would have to be more particular about how it was used.
The smell alone would give it away. It was an odd choice for a murder weapon.
Jade closed the box and replaced it in the drawer, turning her head over her shoulder and gulping fresh air. Taking the poison wasn’t an option, and it alone had no ties to Grannam once it was out of his home. She needed a receipt of transaction.
A few papers accompanied the box of poison in its drawer, and Jade combed through them, her mental clock ticking. One small slip of paper with only a few lines made her pause, and she took a closer look.
Parathen ------ 25g
Total cost ---- 545 aigres
Paid ---------- Evenshold
That was it. The proof of transaction. Parathen was an acidic poison that fit the profile of the substance she’d found in the drawer.
A low voice spoke outside the door seconds before Jade heard keys jangling. Someone was coming inside.