AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I had meant it figuratively, but Poet’s mouth slanted. “True. Matter of fact, if you absorb the thorns’ essence, the rose will protect you from the flames. The effect doesn’t last forever but long enough to create a temporary shield. That dark magic extends to you and everything you keep close.” He tapped my lips. “Anyway, you’re not allowed to die first. Certainly not before you marry me.”
“Oh, and rob you of the chance to dress up?” I teased, folding my arms around his neck. “Of course not.”
With a tired chuckle, Poet noticed something from the corner of his eye. As he captured my wrist, we discovered the scarlet bracelet had come loose. Carefully, he adjusted the cord, tying it as securely as his own.
“Better now,” the jester husked before returning my arm to its original position, folding it around him.
Like this, he snatched my mouth in a brief but penetrating kiss. My toes curled, his embrace warmed me down my soles, and the gentle flick of his tongue pulled a sigh from my throat.
On a groan, Poet hummed against my lips. “I’ve never known someone with your strength of will. The Court Physician made the same comment.”
Perhaps. That aside, my memory recalled bits and pieces of that conference. I’d been partially awake, listening to the hazy discussion and viewing the obscure silhouettes in my suite. At one point, the physician had said something that produced a rather violent response.
I squared Poet with a knowing look. “And what precisely did he say to make you strangle him?”
Fresh anger creased the jester’s face. “Ah, that,” he said without mirth. “There is one slight hiccup. It appears your infirmary had a cache of antidotes to allergic reactions of this magnitude. Unfortunately, our unidentified motherfucker got to them prior to the feast.”
“Always pay attention to your props,” I recited.
Poet nodded. “’Tis the rule every treasonous jester lives by.”
“If I’m not mistaken, you are the only treasonous jester.”
“Correct. So many ways in which I’m one-of-a-kind. Take care of this rare being, Princess. For I can’t be replaced.”
I tried to smile. “I know that.”
He attempted to grin back, but it came out like a grimace. “Your mother and I conducted an inquisition with the council, questioned the court in its entirety, and conducted a search of the castle down to the last skeleton in the last closet. There’s no suspect or trace of the attacker.” His intonation darkened. “Rest assured, I made certain everyone answered truthfully.”
Again, I did not doubt that. Few could match Poet’s tongue, much less endure it. “Then perhaps they’re not residing in the castle,” I guessed. “Which means they had an outlet to get in and leave quickly.”
“Mayhap something like a tunnel few people know about?” Poet suggested.
I nodded. “Which also means this person is connected to Rhys. Or it could be a faction of people like the Masters. In hindsight, he wouldn’t operate with only one individual. Certainly, a lone assassin would have an easier time avoiding notice, but Rhys is arrogant and excessive; he prefers a disposable entourage. For the attempted poisoning, perhaps one or two people were picked from a larger gang.”
“And maybe the king’s not waiting for Reaper’s Fest, after all. Either that, or he changed course,” Poet added. “An opportunity presented itself, so Rhys took a chance. He knew that if it didn’t work, he could try again during the revels.” The jester rubbed a finger over his lower lip. “Yet despite how thoroughly I interrogated everyone, we can’t fully rule out the courtiers. Outside of this castle, who knows you have an allergy?”
A rhetorical question. Poet knew the answer. Only my closest allies, the kitchen staff, and the Royals of this continent were aware of my susceptibility to Willow Dime.
The former two groups all resided in this fortress. The latter did not.
It was a fair point. Like all the Season monarchs, Rhys was privy to my vulnerability. He must have equipped his stooges with this confidential information. And since he likely had more than a few traitors working for him, they could be spread out, within and beyond the castle.
“You’re saying we could be surrounded,” I hypothesized.
“I’m saying anything is plausible. If they live off the castle grounds, they would have needed to accomplish two feats. One, avoid The Wandering Fields, seeing as their intentions weren’t exactly honorable; the harvest fields would have sensed that and crushed them before they made it through. Two, get past tunnel security.
“But if they dwell inside the castle, neither are an issue. In which case, committing Royal murder becomes more doable. Plain and simple, except they left no tracks. And again, my investigation alongside your mother yielded no potential offenders.
“Then again, it takes time for people to fuck up. I’ve worn the guise of a traitor, so I know what it means to perform in one. Whether they’re here or beyond these walls—”
“We’ll find them,” I finished. “So if the antidote stores were compromised, how am I alive?”
The jester’s gaze relaxed. “I’d say an otherworldly combination of your stubbornness, plus a dash of something creative.” Pointing to the bedroom, he indicated a small glass bottle I hadn’t noticed earlier, which stood on the nightstand beside the rose vase. Sage blossoms swam in a profusion of clear, effervescent liquid, the vessel’s half-empty contents indicating I must have ingested a portion of it already.
Poet produced a note from his pocket, whipping it aloft between his index and middle fingers. Forest green petals embedded into the wax seal, and the parchment smelled of wildflowers and berries.
“Jinny,” I exhaled.
