“You’re here because you have nowhere else to go,” Gisele says icily. “So a little gratitude won’t kill you.”
Joniza clears her throat. She’s returned to her song but is maintaining her not-to-be-involved face.
Emeric glances from Gisele to me, sizing us up like two feuding tavern drunks who might take a swing at any moment, then straightens his folded papers. “Right, then. Given thatMarkgrafAdalbrecht von Reigenbach has now attempted to murder both of us and, by proxy, Princess Gisele, I think”—his mouth screws up like he’s bit into a rotten lemon—“cooperationis in all our interests.”
“Aren’twejust giddy as a bridegroom,” I drawl.
He looks down his thin nose at me. “Charter of the Prefect, Article Seven: ‘In the event that it becomes necessary to seek aid from a criminal or miscreant in resolving an investigation, the association should be as brief as possible, to avoid tainting the prefect’s evidence, character, or judgment.’ Collaborating with a criminal like you should be my absolute last resort. The entire point of our job is to make sure the law applies to everyone, not to disregard it when it’s inconvenient.”
Something about how he says “criminal” bothers me. It’s not disgust; it’s almost closer to dismissal. Before I can stop myself, I’m sniping back. “Ohno, wouldn’t want to disappoint Papi Klemens.”
Emeric bristles more than I expected, but he reins it in, taking a sip from his mug. “Hubert will be more interested in results. Besides, this is all standard for us. I arrive first, looking like a fresh-faced pushover, and solve the case because everyone buys the act and lets down their guard.”
Theexactly like you didis implied. I decide I was completely justified in giving him the soot-mote mug.
“So like it or not, I don’t believe any of us are in a position to turn down assistance right now, especially not Miss Schmidt. At the very least, we should start by sharing what we know. Is that acceptable?”
“Vanja goes first,” Gisele says immediately. “Otherwise, what are the odds she goes last, then extorts us in exchange for what she knows?”
“Eh,” I say. “Decent.” Emeric makes an exasperated noise, and I shrug. “What? She’s learning.”
He just digs another charcoal stick from under his papers and pulls one sheet out of the stack. “Start with the margrave.”
My hair’s falling loose around my shoulders, so I split it into two sections and start braiding to keep my hands busy. “He proposed to Gisele last year, sent soldiers to get us, and by the time I got to Minkja, he was already back on the frontlines. I didn’t even know he was returning until his messenger showed up on Sunday and declared the wedding was in two weeks.”
“That’s . . .” Gisele starts, then folds her arms and looks away, as if she won’t lend me any more credibility than she absolutely must.
“Princess Gisele?” Emeric prompts.
She still doesn’t look at me. “It just seems, I don’t know, too fast. He’s the most powerful noble in the southern empire, and Sovabin is a royal principality, even if it’s tiny. A wedding like that should have months of preparation.”
“A rushed wedding and he’s still trying to kill the bride beforehand. Interesting.” Emeric jots something down and looks back to me. “Perhaps something changed. Tell me about the poisoning. Did you see anything with the Tears that could be of use?”
I sum it up for them, from Adalbrecht’s protection of the von Hirschings to him insisting I drink the Tears. Then I remember. I shoot out of my chair, slamming my hands on the table. “His eyes!”
Joniza shushes me. “So help me, I amnotplaying another hour of lullabies if those little monsters wake up.”
I lower my voice and lean in. “There’s a painting of him and his brothers as boys. They all have hazel eyes. Now his are blue. And with the Tears, they glowed like anachtmahr, and he had a horse head, and there was a skull in his study, and—”
“Hold on.” Emeric raises a hand, scribbling frantically. “He had awhat?”
“A horse head. Like themahrthat attacked us, but nailed to his shoulders.” I describe the vision of Adalbrecht dying on the battlefield, thenachtmären, the dead beasts. Then I snap my fingers. “And the night you tried to surprise me, I was attacked by amahrin the castle.”
“But akoboldwould keep them out,” Gisele says suspiciously.
Her suspicion is contagious, because Emeric gives me a skeptical, irate look, like I’m wasting all their time with a fib. “I amexcruciatinglyfamiliar with thekoboldof Castle Reigenbach, Miss Schmidt.”
I stiffen, rocking back on my heels. Something jumps at the back of my throat. I know they both have reason to doubt me, but there’s an old, choking kind of panic when I’m telling the truth for once and no one believes me. It catches me like missing a stair, and for a moment I’m back before the von Hirschings, swearing in vain that I am not a thief.
Ragne perks up beside me. “I saw themahrtoo. I tried to scratch the Vanja awake.” She points to my wrist, where the red lines peeking from my sleeve are still vivid enough to see by lantern light.
The moment passes. The panic loosens its grip.
“Maybe Adalbrecht brought it in. I don’t know.” I sit back down and awkwardly half shrug to Ragne in thanks. “Oh. And his understeward, Barthl, had me deliver an unmarked letter to the Wolfhünden.”
“That’swhy you were in the Madschplatt,” Emeric says.
“Er. Part of why. I was working on the curse.” I catch myself scratching at the ruby teardrop, and resume braiding instead. “Full moon’s coming. Anyway, that’s all I have.”
