I look at Rian instead. “Even if someone had the means,whywould someone poison all of Kandala?”
“Perhaps because there’s so much money to be made in curing it?”
My heart pounds when he says that. I don’t want to think someone could be that heartless—but I’d be wrong. Consul Sallister was funding the rebels himself, raiding his own supply runs to drive up the cost of Moonflower petals. He practically funded the whole revolution—then supplied the rebels with faulty medicine so they got sicker.
“Well, there’s still the matter ofhow,” I say.
Rian taps the first map on the table. “These are the islands of Ostriary.” He points to the center. “We’re here, on Fairde. We were attacked by Crane’s peoplehere, just south of Silvesse. Kaisa is where the Moonflower grows.” He points to the northernmost island. “That leaves Iris, the strip of land that you all believed was the whole of Ostriary, and Roshan and Estar.” He drags another map closer, laying it alongside, and I realize it’s a somewhat rudimentary map of Kandala. “Here. Kandala sits north, so Fairde actually lies about parallel to your southern sector, Sunkeep.” He adjusts the maps a bit.
I study the two countries lying side by side. The sectors are very crudely marked, and I wonder how old this map is. Each sector hasa name labeled under it, which I’m assuming are the consuls, but some of the names are unfamiliar. I’m about to ask how old this map is until I get to the Sorrowlands. Under that one is the namePelham.
“Roydan Pelham,” I say. I glance at Rocco. “He’s the current consul for the Sorrowlands.”
Rocco nods—but his eyes hold mine, and he says nothing else.
I don’t know if he’s telling me not to give away any more information—or if he just doesn’t have any to give me.
But at my side, Rian nods, too. “These are old maps, so a lot of the consul names are out of date. I was surprised to hear this one at dinner, though.” He taps the northern part of the map.
Pepperleaf.
“Laurel,” I whisper. “Her father was a baron. But not a consul.”
“Well, someone in her lineage was a consul in the past.”
Rocco taps on Trader’s Landing.
Montague.
I inhale sharply, but Rocco’s finger brushes against my hand when he withdraws, and I swallow.
That wasdefinitelya warning.
Rian’s no fool. He looks at me. “What?”
“Montague died,” I say, scrambling for something to say, because I have to saysomething. “King Harristan never replaced him.” I pause. “It’s been a bit of a scandal in Kandala for years.”
He studies me as if he suspects I’m lying, but I’m not, and maybe he realizes that. “Why has it been a scandal?”
I’m frozen in place, staring at him. I’m such a terrible liar—and I’m so unprepared for a discussion aboutthis. Barnard Montague was the consul who was behind the assassination of King Harristan and Prince Corrick’s parents. He was never replacedbecause they were never able to determine a motive. I don’t know if any of that information is good or bad to share with Rian.
I consider how the entire sector was always suspected of shady dealings—until the fever sickness grabbed everyone’s attention. I frown a little, thinking of Rocco’s job in the night patrol, how he talked about explosives being smuggled out of Trader’s Landing. Trader’s Landing was also involved in the shipping logs that Arella Cherry and Roydan Pelham were reviewing—the same ones that showed trade deals with Ostriary from long ago that went sour.
All of this has to be related somehow, but I don’t know the key players in the palace well enough to piece it together.
Rian has clearly had enough of my silence. “Did it have anything to do with Montague poisoning King Harristan as a child?”
I nearly choke on my tongue. “What?”
“You said it was a scandal. According toourrecords, Montague is the one who used to barter for steel—and the one who first began demanding more silver. He said he had leverage on King Lucas. That the heir wouldn’t survive. I’ve seen the letters to my father myself.”
My mouth has gone dry. “That doesn’t mean anything. King Harristan—he’s always been sick—”
“Miss Tessa.” Rocco’s voice is soft at my side, but a tone of warning hides under the words.
Rian glances between him and me. His eyes narrow.
I don’t say anything else—but my brain is spinning.CouldHarristan have been poisoned? I don’t know enough about this side of the Moonflower. I don’t know enough about any of this.
