“Narya wasn’t like that,” Kaliska argued. “She might have offered, but she would never take what wasn’t freely given.”
Luka grunted. He hoped she was right, for her sake, but it didn’t matter now. “Where did she plan to get this forbidden elixir?”
Kaliska’s shoulders lost a little of their tension. “Well, that’s just the thing. Narya told me that she planned to go to the physik in the market. To look for an apothecary shop with a wooden sign—a dragon biting its own tail—but Narya never left the castle. We found her in her bed.”
A wave of scales hardened down Luka’s back and up his neck. He had seen that exact sign just yesterday, outside Izzy’s shop. And Naryahadleft the castle. Was she alive or dead at the time?
Declan’s eyes tracked the flurry of gleaming scales on Luka’s skin. “Something tells me you know this sign,” he said slowly, speculation gleaming in his intelligent eyes. “Perhaps the physik is a friend of yours?”
Luka leaned back, jaw tight, but he didn’t answer. And that in itself was answer enough.
Declan’s sharp eyes narrowed. “And now I’m wondering… what if Narya did leave the castle? Her clothes were muddied at the front. That always struck me as very strange.”
Fuck.Luka’s beast twisted in his belly.
Declan’s weight shifted into a fighting stance as he continued, warming to his theory. “What if Lady Narya snuck out of the castle, found the physik you mentioned, and asked for this illicit drug? Perhaps the physik started to wonder what would happen if Narya could identify them to her new lover—the prince?” Declan’s fingers tightened on the grip of his sword. “Or perhaps it was something else…. What if they, like you, immediately suspected that Narya would offer this illegal substance to the prince? That after failing to obtain this elixir, Narya would find other, equally dark, ways to control him. Perhaps this person, with their intimate knowledge of anatomy, chose to act then and there. To remove the threat rather than take that risk.”
God of Chaos.
Declan continued with increasing confidence. “And what if that physik knew a drake? One who could fly to Narya’s room. Not to murder her—that was already done—but to put her body back. What then?” Declan looked down toward Kaliska, lip twitching into the first smile Luka had ever seen him give. “A drake and a physik with intimate knowledge of the castle. Friends of the prince, perhaps even protected by him…. Who could that be?” He didn’t provide the answer. He didn’t need to.
“You are entirely wrong,” Luka argued. “Firstly, why would I be here if any of that were true? And secondly, I’ve spent the day questioning the guards. They all say the same thing. Narya never left.”
Declan chuckled. “Who ever said the drake was you?”
Luka froze. Of course the drake was him, but he couldn’t admit to finding Narya on the Nabaspath. Not now. Probably notever. And either way, he knew in his bones that Izzy did not kill Narya. She would never hurt someone, not in the way Declan suggested.
But Izzy’s in even more danger now. Declan just found a way to delay the treaty and maybe get Kaliska out of this marriage. And it hangs on blaming Izzy.
Chapter
Nineteen
Izabel unlockedLuka’s door with the key she’d forgotten to give back earlier, dragged it open, and trudged into his room. She dropped her bag on the floor beside the door and rolled out her aching shoulders.
Firewood was laid ready, so she started a blaze. She washed up as best she could, pouring tepid water into the basin and scrubbing her face with the fresh towel left on the small table. Then she sank into Luka’s armchair and closed her eyes, leaving her hair loose rather than risk aggravating the headache she’d been brewing all afternoon.
Somehow, she’d let time soften her memories of just how brutal working with Melo was. After spending several hours checking Narya’s body—and finding nothing new—she’d written up two copies of her report, one for Danikha and one for Melo, and set about helping in the clinic.
All the soldiers arriving back from the front, plus the huge delegation the archthane brought with him, massively increased the workload. They needed an extra pair of hands, which she was happy to provide, but Melo’s constant sniping—nitpicking and undermining—was exhausting.
She hadn’t managed to get away for lunch, and the long hours were brutal. Luka had promised to come back before she finished her day, and every time the door opened, she’d thought it might be him. But it never was.
He was busy, and so was she. That was their life. That would be their life if…. She shut down that thought. She was getting ahead of herself. She needed to move slower and give them both time.
Someone tapped on the door, and she opened it to find a soldier with a tray of food, which she took gratefully. Izzy settled it on the desk and helped herself to a bowl of creamy baked chicken and a thick slice of warm bread. She considered waiting, but she was starving, and she had no idea how long Luka was going to be.
She was halfway through her meal, pleasantly warm beside the fire, her eyelids growing heavy, when a fist thudded on the door, startling her. Izzy pushed herself up, suddenly awake, and tugged the door open.
Luka stood with his arm lifted, about to knock again.
She laughed and stepped back. “You don’t have to knock on your own door.”
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, but he didn’t laugh with her. “I didn’t know if you needed privacy.”
“I’m just eating dinner.” She stepped over to the tray, smiling back at him over her shoulder. “Do you want some?”
“I’m not hungry.” Luka looked like he’d run back. His hair stood in spikes, his scales gleamed in an armored ring around his neck, and his hands were clenched. He didn’t look as happy to see her as she’d hoped.
