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She would do whatever it took to find the man responsible for Cathal’s murder. Perhaps then her uncle would see her true worth and grant her a council position, leaving her free to remain in Innislee.
Even if she failed to secure her independence, at least Cathal’s murderer would face justice.
Riona quickly left the building, the wind tugging at her dress as she wandered along the cobblestone path, her thoughts tumultuous. The sun was low in the west, and the fat gray clouds on the horizon promised an impending storm.
She paused at a flowerbed and ran her fingers over the velvet-soft petal of a Selannic lily, trailing her thumb along the strip of pink from its center. They were too fragile to withstand Rivosa’s winters, and every spring, Queen Blair brought some back to be planted fresh after her annual journey to the Selannic Isles. Riona’s mother had loved them. She bent down and breathed in the flower’s familiar scent, letting it wash away the day’s events. She would find Cathal’s killer. She would earn her freedom.
“I owe you an apology, my lady.”
She straightened to find a young man standing at the entrance to one of the royal gardens, half-hidden by the mass of climbing roses twisting its way up the stone arch. He was tall for an elf, his servant’s livery fitting snugly across his broad shoulders and lean, muscular build. His wavy brown hair fell to his shoulders, the sides tucked behind the points of his ears. He lifted a hand to his heart and bowed low.
“Aeron,” she breathed, ducking into the garden to speak with him. “You needn’t apologize for trying to spare my feelings. Just, in the future, keep me apprised of anything important you learn—especiallyif it concerns the future of my kingdom. What did the guards discover in their interrogations last night? I haven’t had a chance to find Ophelia or any of the others.”
“Precious little. By the time Prince Auberon was poisoned, most of the courtiers were too drunk or too distracted by the presence of the suitors to have noticed anything suspicious. No one from the kitchen or serving staff has provided any useful information, either,” he said with a frown. “Little wonder why the would-be assassin chose that night to strike.”
“What of the servant who served them the poisoned wine? Has she been identified?”
Anger flashed across Aeron’s face. “A few people recalled seeing her on the balcony, but their descriptions of her are vague at best and conflicting at worst. They’re nobles. They saw the pointed ears and elven features, and looked no further.”
“Meaning?” Riona asked carefully. Slavery had been outlawed in Rivosa for generations, but she knew the class divisions between the human nobles and elven workers were as stark as ever after years of escaped Beltharan slaves crossing the border to seek freedom. Their economy was shaky enough after decades of war with Erduria, and many of the cities had more poor elves seeking work than businesses that could afford to hire them.
“Meaning we know she is an elf, female, and has dark hair,” Aeron said, a bitter edge to his voice. “Do you know how many women in the kitchen and serving staff fit that description? The guards questioned them multiple times, but none admitted to going out on the balcony last night.”
Riona sighed. “Make some inquiries if you can, and tell me if you discover anything. Prince Domhnall seems to believe that one of the courtiers was behind the poisoning and murder.”
He dipped his head in respect and stalked off, crossing the garden to gather the practice swords some members of the royal guard had left behind after their drills. Riona stepped through the archway and stopped when her gaze landed on the double doors to the castle’s infirmary.Prince Auberon.
Her uncle’s orders to get close to the Erdurian princes rang in her ears as she crossed the cobblestone path and pulled one of the doors open, striding through the empty sitting room until she came to a short hallway. An Erdurian guard stood watch outside the door at the opposite end.
“May I speak to the prince?”
“He’s resting now, my lady.”
“It’s important—it’s about his poisoning,” she insisted. “Please, if Prince Auberon is awake, ask him if he will see me.”
The guard bowed and retreated into the room. A few moments later, he returned and opened the door wide for her. “Make it quick, my lady. He’s had an…eventful day, and he’s only just awoken from a sedative.”
She thanked him and entered the room, the door swinging shut behind her. Another guard stood stiffly near the healer’s worktable, watching over his prince, and Riona nodded a greeting to him before focusing on the man sitting in the cot before her. Prince Auberon looked awful—his hair tousled, his eyes heavy-lidded and groggy—but he visibly perked up when he saw her.
“Lady Riona, I—” He stopped and looked to the guard. “You see her too, don’t you?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Good.” Before Riona could ask what he’d meant by the odd question, Auberon turned his attention back to her. “Have you spoken to Duke Valerian today, by any chance?”
She faltered, confused by how quickly the conversation had gone off track. “No, I haven’t.”
“Well, that makes two of us, then. Interesting.” He frowned, then shook his head as if to clear it. “Can I help you, my lady? Or have you simply come to finish our dance? I’m sorry to inform you that I’m not quite as steady on my feet as I was yesterday. Something’s come up, you see.”
By the Creator, how does anyone hold a conversation with this man?Riona had hoped that he’d be too exhausted to act like the cocky, irreverent prince he’d been at the banquet, but no. Nearly dying had had no effect on his personality. “You were poisoned yesterday—”
“Hm? Oh, yes, I had noticed that.”
Her eyes narrowed. His grin widened.
She tried again, exasperated. “You were poisoned yesterday, and I want to know what you remember from the banquet—anything that might help with the investigation into the attempt on your life.”
His expression turned somber. “And the murder of the Treasurer, I presume. I was sorry to hear about his death. He seemed like a good man.”
