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“Ari? That man is awful, but Metheus is patient with him. They are not friends, you know. Why do you ask?”
“He is here,” I said softly, glancing at Francilia, who took a deep breath.
“Why would he be here?” Rowali asked incredulously.
“We are trying to find out. I heard he might be a seducer, but do you think he may want something more? Would he want to harm your family?”
“I – I am not sure. Nobody takes Ari seriously.”
Ah. So, there it was.
“But what about his mother? Is she still alive?”
“The Dowager Duchess is still alive,” nodded Rowali. “I think she may have been in love with my father.”
“How do you know that? Did people tell you?”
“No. It is just the way she looks at him sometimes. When her husband died, it had become more apparent. I almost feared that Father would one day ask her to marry him.”
“Do you think there could have been a chance?”
“No! Of course not. My father was not able to move on after my mother died. That was what everyone told me. He never looked at Duchess Devorah the way she wanted him to.”
“Did Devorah have any links to the witches?”
“As far as I know, they are humans. No powers, just a title that had been passed on from one generation to another for centuries.”
I thought about that. Rowali knew more than I thought she would. It made me wonder if I should have sent Cora at all. We would have to go home to Arrowspear. Metheus was now my home.
Suddenly, we heard a tapping at the window.
“A crow!” gasped Francilia.
True enough, a crow was there by the window. Demetria! How did she find me here in Rowali’s room?
“Open the window, Francilia,” I ordered, getting up as I said so. Even Rowali rose from the bed, curious and eager to find a distraction. “Come inside if you are Francilia.”
“It is me. Is it safe to talk here?” Demetria sent me a message in her mind.
“Yes, Demetria. Rowali is my husband’s sister. Therefore, she is mine, too. Francilia is my lifelong friend.” I said, winning a smile from my lady-in-waiting. She had been my only true friend for so many years now.
“Good day, Your Majesty. Good day, Your Highness, Princess Rowali. Good day, Lady Francilia,” Demetria squawked, eliciting delighted laughter from Rowali.
“Oh, but you are extra polite today, Demetria,” I teased.
“Oh, but I always am, Your Majesty. Do not mistake me for Veronica.”
I snickered at that. However, it also reminded me about Veronica’s possible ties with Arrowspear. Given that many Mogochislenian witches moved to Arrowspear during the decades of persecution under human rulers, there was a chance.
“Did you find out more about the assassin?”
“Your husband had been moving quickly with the help of the Seers,” Demetria said with what I thought was a hint of admiration. “The Seers caught a young woman who may have dealings with the Touch?”
“The Touch?” echoed Rowali.
Demetria turned to Metheus’s sister and bent her head to one side as if assessing her.
“Yes, the Touch,” she cawed. “The young woman looks like you, Your Highness.”
