The senators begin to eat. Actually, Suh is nearly finished with his first dish. He was once a general and still eats at legion speed. Only Kerasea Vestal doesn’t touch her plate.
“Did he say why he did it?” she asks. “The criminal?” Her eyes are glassy as she turns to Julian.
She seems genuinely concerned, just as she did in the Senate Hall. I sip more water. Perhaps she feels guilty that someone is taking the fall for her crimes.
Jules shakes his head. “We’ll have a full confession when we arrive back at the capital, but the criminal has ties to the Kingdom of Arthago and a violent past, having beaten his wife and young child to death.”
At the mention of Arthago, Senator Medea curls her lip and Suh frowns into his goblet. Paolo spins his ring. Pryor lost half of its western seacoast in the Treaty of Everlasting Peace, leaving an enemy right at the border. Sliver by sliver, they’ve incurred down the coast farther into the sixth province. And now the Council will once again decide whether we go to war or cede more to the kingdom.
I doubt the man in jail has any actual connection to Arthago, though I do believe he killed his family. Having felt the back of his father’s hand many times, Julian would have no qualms scourging a man like that.
“You’d think the murderer would’ve loved Verhardt for giving away all of our land, then,” Eyo says.
The senator is well into his wine, but there’s truth at the bottom of a glass. Medea and Suh chuckle. Paolo smiles. The laughter and mirth in the room are real.
Perhaps Julian was right. Maybe I have been too focused on the High Priestess. She doesn’t have a motive, while every senator benefited far more from the death of the Senate Leader.
But just as I look at him, Julian gazes at Kerasea out of the corner of his eye. I know that stare. He’s in lust or love; it’s all the same to him. And they do make a stunning couple—elite Southsiders to their core.
My chest tightens, and I grip my napkin in my fist.
He and I have things to discuss after dinner.
XII.
Kerasea
I toss and turn on the massive four-poster bed in my room, trying to quiet my thoughts and get some rest, but it’s no use. The senators were so glib at dinner despite Verhardt’s murder. No wonder they unanimously voted to move forward with the conclave—they aren’t concerned about anything beyond their own ambitions. But was one of them bold enough to eliminate the Senate Leader?
I have to get out of voting.
I fluff the goose-down pillow, but my eyes are open as the night clock chimes two in the morning. It’s the worst feeling to know your sleeping hours are dwindling and yet you’re nowhere near slumber.
With a groan, I give up and get out of bed. My body aches with exhaustion, but I’m wide awake. It’s useless to pretend otherwise. Breakfast will be served in six hours, but I decide to go to the kitchens to make myself a warm glass of cardamom milk. It might not help, but it won’t hurt.
Wrapping myself in my silk robe, I grab a candleholder and leave my room on slippered feet.
I pass the Praetorian’s bedroom, still unsure why he gave me that tour. But I do know he had nothing to do with the arrest of the murderer. In fact, he thinks the man is innocent. His face was an open book when the senators congratulated him.
The only reason to set up an innocent man would be so that no one looks further into the crime, but why wasn’t the Praetorian involved?
I reach the main staircase, and I no longer need my candle. The massive chandelier still burns brightly overhead. I’m not sure how they keep it lit all night, since it’s not an eternal flame, but the old king had a reputation for demanding miracles.
Once I get to the base of the stairs, I turn to the western hall. I didn’t notice any kitchens in the eastern hall earlier.
Oil lamps light the space, but this late at night, the flames cast sinister shadows. I pull my robe tighter, the silent corridor looming ahead. My candle shakes slightly as I pass darkened drawing rooms and the abandoned ballroom. It’s almost like I can hear the music that once played.
I need a heavier robe.
Eventually, I reach the end of the hall and discover the kitchens. I swing through the door and nearly collide with a body in the shadows. I let out a brief scream, and he does the same. We both lift our candles.
I take in the man’s small frame and crooked glasses.
“Antinous?” I ask, my mouth dry and my heart pounding. “Underworld, you scared me.”
Senate Clerk Antinous adjusts his glasses while also grabbing at his chest, then he issues me a clumsy bow. “I’m so sorry, Excellency. My humblest apologies.”
“I didn’t think anyone else would be here.” I try to stop my hands from shaking. I knew the Senate Clerk would be in attendance at the conclave, but I hadn’t seen him this evening, so he slipped my mind.
