She nods. “Yes.” She pauses. “Some of the correspondence is inconclusive, and with your parents dead, and Consul Montaguedead, we may never have the full picture of it, Your Majesty. But you’ve been removed from the throne and the poisoning has stopped, and word has begun to spread among the sectors. It’s rather damning.”
“As planned,” I say evenly, though my stomach has formed a knot.
“Possibly,” she concedes. “Especially since some of the notes from Montague—and others—indicate some not-so-veiled threats on your life when you were a child, using this very same poison.”
I’ve gone still, and the silence in the room is thick. Even Quint, at my side, has stopped writing.
Jonas clears his throat. “Your frequent illness as a child was never a secret,” he says.
“And as much as you’ve tried to hide it as an adult,” Arella adds, “it was still obvious to those of us in your inner circle.”
She pulls a folded piece of parchment from under the table and slides it across to me.
Look what it’s done to your son. This is what you want to do to your people.
–Barnard
I’m frozen in place. It’s not proof of anything—but it also is. I think of all the times we visited Consul Montague when I was a child, or the times he’d visit the palace. I try to remember if I felt more sickly then, but it’s been too long. There’s no way to know.
“So you think Barnard Montague tried to assassinate them tostopthem?” I say.
She exchanges a glance with Jonas and Roydan. “There’s no way to be sure. And he wasn’t without fault. He was clearlyskimming profits from whatever trade deals he’d made with Ostriary for steel. Some of those records go back to your grandfather’s reign. Possibly even older. It’s taken us weeks to go through everything. They hid the evidence well.”
“From me as well,” I say. “I had no idea. Truly. I hope you believe me.”
She studies me for a long time, but it’s Roydan who speaks, and he leans over and pats me on the hand like I’m a child. “I do. You were dealt a rough hand. You’ve done your best.”
I look at him in surprise. He’s so old, and I’ve known him since . . . ?well, since birth. I know he occasionally dotes on Corrick, but he’s never really done it tome.
Arella sighs. “I do, too.”
I snap my head around to look at her.
“I do,” she says again. “When I first discovered proof, it seemed obvious that this had been a long-running plot between you and Consul Sallister. Again, your penalties were so swift and brutal. Baron Pepperleaf’s daughter seemed to be an ally of the people, because she was so interested in Tessa Cade’s medicine. I shared my records with her, and she told me Captain Huxley had information on the king.” She hesitates. “But as time has gone on . . . ? I’ve wondered if the opposite could be true. That Laurel Pepperleaf was interested in Miss Cade’s medicine because she was worried she would discover the truth about the poison. Because it has become clear that Captain Huxley has been on Consul Sallister’s payroll foryearsto feed him information about the king. Both Allisander and his father before him.”
The more I learn about Sallister, the more I want to seehimat the end of a rope. I turn my head. “Thorin, why did you and the rest of my guards close ranks against Captain Huxley?”
“Because he couldn’t be trusted.”
Arella’s mouth forms a line.
I sit back in my chair. “You and Roydan have been quietly reviewing these shipping logs for quite some time now. When you suspected poison, you didn’t consider coming to ask me directly?”
“I should have,” she says. “And I wish I did. Because now Sallister has taken residence in the palace and he’s practically sitting on the throne himself.”
I make a disgusted sound. “I suppose I’m lucky I didn’t find him sleeping in my bed.”
Her eyes flare. “Thatwasyou!”
“Yes.”
She sighs and glances between me and Jonas. “Well, as Jonas said, it has become clear that you couldn’t have been poisoning the people. If you were in the palace, you surely noticed that the halls were empty. Most of the staff has resigned. Your personal guard—”
“I know what they’ve done to my personal guard,” I say darkly.
She clears her throat. “Yes. Captain Huxley has maintained as many guards as he could, but nowhere near the number that once lined the halls. I wouldn’t trust anyone who remains.”
“I wouldn’t either.”
