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This was it. The rebuking. An important cultural treasure was destroyed. Scandal. Demands for her head, locking her in a tower, and so on. Basically, the whammy.
Lenore stood, blocking Lydia from view with her body, and prepared for the worst. “It wasn’t Lydia’s fault. Someone drugged her.”
“Are you well?” Baris asked, pulling her into an embrace.
She stiffened, not expecting that, then melted with relief.
“You should not be here, but it was safest to remove you from the situation. The culprit has already confessed,” Baris said.
“That man?—”
“Yes,” Baris confirmed. “Des was also responsible for the failure of the portal.”
Wow. That was a big deal. Major. “You don’t sound terribly upset.”
“It was my greatest wish to keep you. Fate answered. Foolishly, I did not specify how,” Baris said. Well, now she was blushing. “Will you allow Harol to do his job since I rudely dragged him away from dinner?”
Lenore stepped aside. Harol was already on the job, unpacking the med kit and snapping on gloves. “What makes you believe she was drugged?”
“Hello,” Lydia said, her voice pitched low and sultry. She batted her lashes.
“Did she injure her eyes? Why is she blinking rapidly?” Harol asked, glancing at Lenore like she had a clue.
“Stop flirting with my boss,” Lenore said, poking Lydia in the shoulder.
“You didn’t tell me your boss was a silver fox.” She growled playfully and raked imaginary claws in the air.
Harol looked terrified, like he wanted to bolt, but only a strong sense of his ethical duty as a physician kept him in the cell. At least, that was what Lenore deduced from the way he visibly gulped, and all his eyes went wide.
“So erratic behavior. Lowered inhibitions. That makes me suspect her drink was spiked,” Lenore said, breaking the silence. “It happened very quickly.”
Using a lancet, Harol pricked Lydia’s finger for a blood sample. He nodded as the results appeared on the tablet’s screen. “A common enough drug. I can neutralize it.” From the med kit, he produced a nasal spray.
Lydia sputtered as it was administered, trying to bat his hands away.
“You do not have to remain for this,” Harol said. “I will return this one to her residence.”
“We have matters to discuss,” Baris said, steering Lenore out of the cell.
There it was, the whammy.
The holding cell was on the other side of the palace from the private residence. “You are not dressed for the cold. We will take the tunnels,” Baris said, leading her down a stairwell and into a service tunnel.
“I had no idea these were here.”
“Few do, other than maintenance and the guards.”
Silence fell between them. This was not the companionable silence during their walks in the garden. Tension hung thick in the air. The longer they went without speaking, the more Lenore became convinced whatever Baris wanted to discuss was not good.
Trouble kept sending tendrils of comfort, which had the opposite effect. When she didn’t respond with her own soothing vibes, he just got louder. Her head felt crowded and loud.
The tunnels emptied into another stairwell, which brought them into the wing reserved for the royal family.
“We should call off the wedding,” she blurted out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
LENORE
