Speaking of my task, did this note change anything?
No. It couldn’t.
I had no plans to leave the castle. Not yet, anyway. But when I did, it could potentially place Tarben in danger. Yes, I was manipulating him with the intent to cause pain, but that didn’t mean I wished anyrealharm to come to him. I certainly didn’t want him to be the murderer’s next victim. If the murderer could get past the Royal Guard.
In addition to his guards, there was also the fact that he was a highly skilled fighter. He told me he had been trained in combat by the best instructors since he was a boy. If it came to it, he’d be more than capable of defending himself.
Yes, Tarben would be fine. There was absolutely no reasonfor me to spiral into panic. I could ignore the note and continue with my task, remaining completely disengaged from these mortal affairs.
No. The less rational part of me couldn’t tolerate the possibility of any harm coming to Tarben. I couldn’t bear the thought of putting him in a situation where his life would be in danger. Especially not if there was a chance that the killer was a witch.
Putting my face in a pillow, I screamed my frustration. It was deeply unfair. Why did I have to be dragged into this? All I wanted was to get on with my task, break the curse, be the savior of Vantillios, and live a long, happy life of freedom. Yet, now that I’d been pulled into this, I couldn’t turn a blind eye.
Damn my conscience. Damn it to confinement.
Sitting up on my bed, I had made up my mind.
I would continue my task as if nothing had changed, but I also had a new task. Find whoever wrote this note.
***
I asked Runa and every other servant in the vicinity if they had seen who had slipped the note under my door. They all claimed to have seen nothing. They’d been too busy contending with the aftermath of Lord Hywell’s murder to notice anything. Before I had the chance to track down and question any more servants, I came across Ingrid in the hallway.
“There you are,” she chided. “I’ve been searching for you. The king has called an urgent meeting in the great hall; everyone is to attend.”
“When?” I asked, taken aback and a little annoyed at the interruption.
“Now. We’d better get moving or we’ll be late.”
Her tone left little room for argument, so I followed her tothe great hall. As I did, I noticed her back was rod straight and her hands were balled into fists. She seemed tense. More tense than usual. Perhaps now was a good time to see if I could get any insights from her.
“Is everything alright, Ingrid?” I asked, falling into step beside her.
Her responding huff told me I had said the wrong thing.Of courseeverything wasn’t alright.
To my surprise, she said, “I realize it’s unbecoming to speak ill of the dead, but I never liked Lord Hywell. He was a drunken ass who treated servants like worms beneath his boots.”
I arched my eyebrows at her candor, but said nothing.
“But to hear how he died….” She shook her head. “Someone took their time killing him. Not only did they remove his fingers, but the things they did to his body…” She shuddered.
My stomach churned, just as a thought occurred to me. “I heard there was a symbol carved into his body. You don’t happen to know what it looked like, do you?”
Her eyebrows raised to her hairline and she looked at me as though I’d suggested we take the dead body out for tea. “No, I don’t know what it looked like! Some deranged lunatic scribbling heretic nonsense is all it is.”
My shoulders slumped in disappointment. Still, I pressed on as we approached the doors of the great hall. “Did he have any enemies? Anyone who would do this to him?”
She stopped in her tracks. “Well, of course he had enemies. Every powerful man does. I have no doubt there are those who wished to see him dead.” She continued in a harsh whisper, “But if you’re asking me if I know of anyone who would mutilate him like that? I cannot conceive who would be so corrupt as to do such a thing. I will not speculate on it, nor should you.” Her mouth tightened into a thin line. It was clear from her expression that the discussion was over.
Willing to let the matter go for the time being, I nodded and followed her through the doors.
The great hall was a far cry from the lavish spectacle it had been the night before. Though it remained empty of its long wooden tables and benches, most of the decorations had been discarded, save for the drooping flowers.
The large space was filled to capacity with grim-looking servants and nobility alike, some whispering, some weeping. Tension thickened the atmosphere, stifling the room as much as the assembled bodies.
The king stood on the dais, wearing a somber expression. “I’ve gathered you here today because, undoubtedly, you have heard the rumors circulating the castle grounds this morning,” he said. “I regret to inform you that, early this morning, the body of Lord Hywell was discovered.”
A wave of murmurs rolled through the hall, but not a single person looked surprised. The news must have spread fast.
