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Realization struck him like a crossbow bolt.Oh, Creator…
Drystan was right: if someone had intended to poison one of them, the obvious choice would have been the Crown Prince. Auberon’s assassination—whileundeniablytragic—would only have favored Erduria in the negotiations.
He hadn’t been the intended target of the poison.
Auberon pushed himself forward, wincing at the agony that tore through his battered lungs, and gripped Drystan’s arm with white knuckles. “Has anyone checked on the Royal Treasurer?”
“Not that I’ve heard. Is he the one who poisoned you?”
“No—it was meant for him, I’m sure of it. Send a guard to his office. He spent the night there.” Cathal had shoved his drink into Auberon’s hands when he’d started to feel sick. He must have mixed them up when he returned to the banquet hall.
Drystan nodded to one of the guards, and the man swiftly left the room. As the door swung shut behind him, the prince frowned and said, “Why kill the Treasurer?”
“Right now, thewhyisn’t important. As soon as I made my grand show of nearly dying, the killer would have realized that they’d poisoned the wrong person. They’ve had hours to come up with a new plan.” Dread rose within Auberon. “Treasurer Cathal might already be dead.”
ChapterFifteen
The Lady
He had been murdered in a brothel.
Cathal’s body lay sprawled atop the mattress, his torso shredded to ribbons. His face was pale, still twisted in pain and surprise. As Riona stared at the body, she could hear the grunts and moans of pleasure from the rooms on either side. Business continued, even as the Treasurer’s body lay cooling in one of the rooms. Master Kaiden’s voice drifted in from the hall, where he was speaking with the mistress of the brothel, but it was too low to make out their conversation.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Prince Domhnall said, stalking across the room. “Not just the murder, but the brothel. I didn’t think he was one to…indulge.”
Riona skirted the pool of blood that had spilled over the edge of the mattress and leaned in to examine the Treasurer’s body. The sight of his torn flesh made her sick to her stomach, but she fought the bile rising in the back of her throat and forced herself to focus on the corpse. His arms were splayed to either side of his body, and his hands bore countless cuts. Some were bone-deep. Riona pictured him fighting desperately, trying in vain to ward off the attacks, as the prostitute straddled his hips and drove the dagger into his chest over and over and over again. She’d stripped the money and valuables from his body—even down to the gold buttons on his shredded doublet—and then fled. According to the guards’ questioning, none of the other girls had seen her leave. Most had been otherwise occupied at the time, likely committing deeds that would have made their fathers fall to their knees and weep. Some reported hearing shouting, but hadn’t bothered to call for the guards. Apparently, in a place like this, shouting and crying out in pain weren’t cause for alarm. The thought sent a shiver down Riona’s spine.
Someone cried out—in pleasure this time—in the room to Riona’s left, and her cousin’s gaze shot to her. “You should go back to the castle. This isn’t a fitting place for a lady.”
She crossed her arms. “Are you afraid I’ll catch a fatal case of depravity? It’s not a place for Crown Princes, either.”
“Just don’t pin the blame on me when your father asks why you were in the seediest, gaudiest brothel in the city.”
“Well, I certainly didn’t come for the company.”
He rolled his eyes and muttered something about stubbornness and glib responses. Riona turned her back on the corpse and crept closer to the doorway, trying to listen in on Master Kaiden’s conversation. The Master of the Guard hadn’t been happy to discover her here, among the lowest of Innislee’s citizens, but she couldn’t have cared less. Anything to keep her away from the suitors.
The second she passed through the castle’s portcullis gate that morning, she had known that something was wrong. Guards and servants had been rushing up and down the cobblestone path between the buildings, frantically snapping orders to one another. Prince Auberon was alive and awake, a guard had informed her, and he feared that the poison had been intended for the Treasurer. Riona had found Prince Domhnall organizing search parties in the garden and insisted on accompanying him.
Cathal’s body had been discovered half an hour later, but they were still no closer to finding answers. Whether the prostitute had committed the murder or was merely framed for it, no one was certain. All they knew was that Cathal was dead, and the last person to see him alive had vanished.
King Domhnall walked into the room, Master Kaiden and the mistress of the brothel—clad in her cheap silks and fake gemstones—on his heels. Riona expected some reproach for avoiding the suitors, but the king didn’t even seem to notice her. His attention was solely focused on the body of his Treasurer. “By the Creator and all the Old Gods…” he breathed, the blood draining from his face. “What happened? What have you learned so far?”
“According to the Treasury guards, he spent the night in his office and left early this morning, claiming that he had a meeting somewhere outside the castle,” Master Kaiden supplied. “He didn’t say where, or with whom, just ordered the guards to await his return. Half an hour ago, his body was discovered here. I have men searching for the woman who was with him as we speak. She would have been covered in blood, so it shouldn’t be hard to track her down. She’ll have left a trail.”
Riona frowned as he spoke. The Treasurer was notorious for only taking meetings in his office; he didn’t like the thought of sensitive documents leaving the security of the castle’s walls. The prince glanced at her, and she knew he was thinking the same thing. It had been a lie to cover the fact that he was coming here, but as Domhnall had said, Cathal hadn’t seemed the type to solicit whores—especially not in a place where the mattresses were hay-filled and suspended with ropes, the sheets stained and worn. One could catch a half-dozen diseases just from setting foot beyond the door.
The king turned to the owner of the brothel. “How often did he come here?”
“Every week or so, he’d visit one of my elven girls, Faylen,” she responded, her voice thick with the rolling rural accent of the south. “But that stopped quite a while ago, Your Majesty.”
“Why?”
“She’s pregnant. That’s usually the reason they stop showin’ up.”
They all turned to her, surprise rippling through the air. “…Pregnant?” the king echoed, looking as if he hoped he’d misheard her. “With his child?”
“I don’t know, and I didn’t ask. All I know is that he was coming here about once a week, and then he just stopped. Not sure why he came back today, but he just rushed in and said he needed to speak with ’er. I assumed it was about the child.” Her gaze drifted to Cathal. “She must have been angry that he had stopped visiting.”
