AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Eventually, Graham must have taken the hint. He turned away from the gardens and re-entered the house.
The servant watched him leave, then stepped off the patio, depositing the brandy glass onto a flagstone, clinking it gently as he did.
I wondered what Cael had told him—likely not much, knowing Cael. He could’ve given him orders with no explanation whatsoever and anyone in Cambria would do his bidding.
The servant went back into the house and left me to the prize.
I abandoned the bench and swooped in for the brandy the moment he disappeared.
“Received,” I said into the radio before flipping the switch off.
I stepped behind a hedge and fumbled with my clutch, taking out the tiny vial of pufferfish toxin. I pulled out the cork and poured the clear liquid into the brandy, then dropped the empty vial in the dirt and buried it with my heel.
With dread in my stomach and my adrenaline high, I went into the house and down the hall, the brandy glass held firmly in my hand.
As I approached, Pearce stepped out of the reading room.
“Please excuse my delay, sir! It took me some time, but I acquired some brandy!”
“Oh.” He looked pleasantly surprised at the sight of the crystal glass. “I was certain I’d combed the entire banquet hall. I’m impressed by your tenacity, young lady.”
“Thank you, Sir Pearce. Now would you please oblige me by returning to the reading room while you enjoy your drink?” Iforced my hand to steady as I passed him the glass of poisoned brandy.
He took it and stepped back into the room, bringing the glass to his mouth and taking a single sip, closing his eyes with satisfaction. “Withthisin hand, I would not mind at all.”
I followed him in and shut the door. There was no lock. I thought of blocking it with a chair, but I didn’t dare to make him suspicious, so I stayed in front of the door with one hand firmly on the knob, watching him closely. I knew one sip wouldn’t kill him, but I didn’t know how long it might take for the paralysis to kick in.
Pearce looked back at me curiously. “Why have you closed the door?”
“There’s far too much noise and commotion out there,” I said, my voice trembling, though I hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Do you not feel a bit exhausted?”
“I am perpetually exhausted,” said Pearce. “However, the norms of decorum would suggest that we leave the door open to safeguard ourselves from any accusations of impropriety.”
“I intend no impropriety, sir. I simply wish to hear your wisdom on Shakespeare with no noise to distract from the profundity of your words.”
“Very well, milady,” said Pearce. “What is it you would like to know?”
“Well . . .” I cleared my throat, stalling. “I am confounded as to why Prospero chose to forgive his adversaries after such treachery. They took everything from him and did not ever seem to take true action to redeem themselves.”
“An intriguing question.” Pearce’s eyes lit up and he looked genuinely pleased to be given the chance to educate me. Or maybe it was the brandy lending him a new air of serenity. “In the past, I might have said it was simply a morality tale that Shakespeare told to encourage us all to forgive our enemies andthat, as a fictional character, Prospero was more magnanimous than anyone could, or should, actually be.”
“And now?” I asked.
He lifted his glass and swirled it, his expression thoughtful, but he didn’t drink. “Now I feel that it was not because his enemies did anything to genuinely redeem themselves—or that it even matteredwhatthey did. In his soliloquy, Prospero articulates his newfound understanding of the impermanence of palaces, power, and of life itself. Indeed, he could have furthered his revenge, yet he recognized that it would ultimately be temporary. Perhaps my perspective is influenced by my advancing age, but today, as I listened, I felt his weariness, and I understood why he chose to release his scheming and choose his ‘nobler reason’ over anger. What purpose lies in wearying oneself for an ephemeral reward?”
I pulled in an involuntary breath. I hadn’t expected an answer that would provide me with a glimpse into Pearce’s psyche. I wondered if he even wanted his lost title back. Maybe he, too, was weary and ready to let go of that reward. I eyed the brandy, tempted to take it back. “You are very wise, sir,” I said, flattering the man, but not without a degree of sincerity. “I knew you would be the ideal scholar to educate me on the matter.”
He nodded, his tired eyes hardly changing their expression. “Some wisdom is gained only through age and a multitude of losses, milady. Now,” he said, “if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to finish this brandy and—” he paused, reaching up to touch his lips, as if he might’ve already been sensing the effects of the poison, although he’d only taken one sip.
He lifted his glass again.
My breath caught. I saw no ambition here, no threat to Graham, and no matter what lies I’d told myself before this moment, I couldn’t bear the thought of destroying an entirehuman life—someone who’d loved and been loved, and who still had the potential to change for the better.
“Stop!” I said, grasping for the glass.
He pulled it back. “What in Irvine’s name are you doing?”
I dropped my hand, placing it back on the doorknob behind me, holding my clutch with the other. I searched for an explanation, but it seemed to be too late.
