Beatrice damn near fainted on the spot.
Considering our annual budget for running the palace and all its expenses was sixty million gold? I sympathized with her reaction.
Of course, Helena’s dowry was something like a hundred million, which was part of the reason Gillespie was so keen on the marriage. If he could lay hands on that money, he could get out of a lot of trouble.
King Patrick’s gaze upon his wife could skewer someone. He looked tempted, too. Beatrice stared across the lawn at Gillespie, who was laughing at something, with an expression both outraged and ready for murder.
“Aurora? Aurora isn’t a true investment company?”
“Oh, no, no, far from it. Just a paper company. I can give you the full reports later, but it’s not at all a legitimate business. Only royal coffers keep it afloat.”
“I’ll want those reports,” King Patrick ground out, his teeth making audible noises as he clenched them together.
“I hadnoidea about any of this,” Beatrice swore under her breath. “No one told me! I wouldn’t have put him up for Helena’s husband had I known!”
I did believe her, at least. “Mother, there’s one more thing. I know, I know, the man’s in enough trouble I shouldn’t add to it, but…well, he nearly cost us all good relations with the Crovans.”
King Patrick reached across the small table to seize my arm, expression intense. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t have all the details.” Which for once was true. “But I do know Gillespie owed some sort of favor to Victor, and Victor demanded payment in the form of Julia Crovan. I was able to catch them and pull the girl out of Victor’s bed.”
“She snuck into the palace?”
I shook my head and corrected Beatrice. “No, Victor wasn’t at the palace. I had to hunt him down. He was in a very seedy brothel near the docks. Gillespie escorted Julia Crovan there. Again, the girl’s virtue is intact”—mostly—“but clearly Gillespie and Victor are in tight cahoots to be giving each other such favors.”
Helena, like she was the stage director for a theater, sent the Crovans to my side at the perfect moment. They looked far better today, Duke Crovan in a proper day suit of pale cream, his grey hair brushed away from his face, and appearing every inch the duke he was. He wore a smile, but it was marred by the tightness around his grey eyes. He was clearly worried and trying to mask it. Duchess Crovan had matched her husband, wearing a cream dress, her greying hair in an elaborate updo, rubies hanging from her ears and on her choker. She also looked worried and still upset, which I didn’t blame her for.
“Your Majesties.” Duke Crovan gave them a bow and then reached out to shake my hand. “Your Highness, thank you so much again.”
“Of course, Duke Crovan. I couldn’t very well leave a young girl there.”
To the listening parents, Duke Crovan launched into his speech. “My daughter went missing last week. I had no idea where she was. If not for Prince James finding her, I’d have no idea she’d been abducted. Then to hear she was at abrothel, being used as currency? My heart’s in shreds. Please, I do implore you, there must be some kind of punishment for Gillespie and Crown Prince Victor. They shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this behavior any longer!”
I saw the final nail hit home in the coffin. Victor’s demise was imminent indeed.
King Patrick straightened. “I will hear this from the horse’s mouth before judgement.Gillespie!”
Gillespie wasn’t one for nuance apparently. He skipped right over, smiling.
King Patrick didn’t hold back with his voice, either, letting everyone at this party hear. And most of the partygoers were listening, all their eyes turned on us.
“Gillespie. Did you take Julia Crovan from her house and deliver her to Victor at a brothel?”
Gillespie did a classic double take. “How do you know about that?”
He was too stupid to dissemble. Fortunately.
Duke Crovan turned and punched Gillespie dead in the mouth. He had a mean right hook. I admired both the swing and the picture Gillespie made as he practically flew backward, landing in a splay of limbs and almost knocking his head against a table.
Then he started crying, sobbing, hand cradling his split lip. “You hurt me!”
He honestly sounded five. I was being generous—more like three.
Marchioness Gillespie flew to her son’s side. “Duke Crovan, how dare you!”
“I?” Duke Crovan yelled, hands bunched into fists at his side. “I dare? Your son—and I use the term loosely, as he’s no better than the projectile diarrhea of an orc with clap—dared to abduct my daughter and then give her to Crown Prince Victor aspayment.”
She still looked upset, but now her ire was directed at her son. She hissed at him even as she tried to drag him to his feet. “Percival, what did you do this time?!”
