“Or they worked together.” She wasn’t sure which option was better or worse.
“Or that.” Lord Lorne nodded, his jaw set. “After all, your grandfather didn’t personally carry out the raid. He worked with someone to commit the actual murders, if he’s the one responsible.”
“Do you think we could find proof? In my grandfather’s things or Lord Sarlon’s?” If this was true, then she needed proof. She needed toknowexactly who had done this to her parents.
“I highly doubt either of them left a paper trail. Any orders were given in person.” Lord Lorne shook his head on a sigh. “If they were especially cautious, then those who carried out the deed were also killed shortly afterwards. There might be no witnesses alive, and if your grandfather was solely behind it, then he took the full truth to his grave.”
“But if Lord Sarlon was involved, either as my grandfather’s man or acting on his own, then heknows the truth.” Adeline’s stomach churned, yet a burning feeling filled her chest.
“He’d have to confess, and you’d need a great deal of persuasion to get him to talk.” Lord Lorne rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “But, Adeline, if Lord Sarlon is involved in any way, then it means that he has participated in the assassination of his royal family before. He won’t hesitate to do it again to achieve his goals.”
“That’s why you’re so worried that I’ll be a target of assassination attempts, not just you.” She curled tighter on the bed. She’d known she was a target, but this discussion made it all more real.
“Yes.” Lord Lorne breathed the word on another sigh. “I think you’ll be reasonably safe for a while. After all, the easiest path for Lord Sarlon is still to have you marry his son. A full-on coup gets messy and doesn’t guarantee success. So I’ll be his primary target since he needs me out of the way first. But if he can rally enough support, he might go for the radical option and do away with you entirely, placing himself rather than his son on the throne. If he’s as power-hungry as he seems, then that option would have a certain appeal.”
Assassination. Scheming lords. Murder.
Adeline shook as she tried to absorb it. Her parents had been murdered. Not just killed by an enemy. Not killed in a tragic accident at the border. But murdered, either by her grandfather or Lord Sarlon or both.
“I…I…” She was going to cry. Or scream. She wasn’t sure what to do with the pain building in her chest.
Lord Lorne held out his free arm in an invitation.
She let go of his other hand long enough to tuck herself against him, her head on his shoulder. His arms came around her, holding her close. When she wrapped her arms around his waist, he hissed and flinched.
“Sorry.” She began to shift away from him.
“Just the ribs. Here.” He let go of her long enough to adjust her grip on him. “That’s better.”
She closed her eyes and, finally, let herself cry.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lorne strode down the corridor as steadily as he could manage, surrounded by three of his guards and three Kelvernese guards who were among those Adeline trusted.
He’d regained some of his strength in the past two days, but he was nowhere near back to fighting ready. Not that he’d ever been the warrior that his guards were, but he’d been able to hold his own before all this happened.
Partway down the corridor, three guards stood outside a door. One of the guards even had a gray-and-black-striped sylon cat on a leash at his side, the cat poised, its tail twitching. The white ruff around its neck showed that it was male while its paws and the end of the tail were also fringed in white. While sitting, the cat’s head came up to the guard’s waist.
Lorne forced himself not to shudder at the sight of the huge war cat, the wounds across his stomachtwinging with the memory of a similar cat slashing him open with its claws.
When he halted at the door, the cat didn’t give him more than a cursory glance before it began licking one of its front paws. He dragged his head up and pretended he wasn’t unsettled. “Lord Lorne to see the queen.”
He was, officially, the prince consort now, and he probably should have used the title prince. But that felt too dangerous, too close to his real identity. Better to remain unassuming.
The guard closest to the door nodded and stepped even more aside. “The queen gave orders that you are always to be admitted.”
Lorne breathed out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t been sure, when he’d set out from their rooms, that he’d be allowed to set foot here.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside, followed by several of his guards. He hadn’t heard them consult, but somehow they’d split off, leaving two in the corridor and three inside here with him.
He found himself in a small sitting room, the comfortable chairs arranged as if to disguise the fact that this was essentially an area to wait to have a private audience with the monarch. The colors were done in dark woods and dark reds, highlighted with gaudy golds. Definitely Adeline’s grandfather’s style rather than hers.
Six other guards, including two of his men, already packed into the room, standing near the walls. His men gave him slight nods.
Across the way, another door stood open. Raised voices rang from inside, accompanied by the pounding of a fist.
“We need this bridge! It’s a safety hazard!”
