“Good rest, High Priestess,” I say hastily. “Bar your door and don’t leave tonight.”
Whatever she was going to say dies on her lips, and her expression changes.
“Good night, Praetorian.”
She shuts the door, and I linger in front of it, regret flooding my chest. I spoke too soon.
I have to get ahold of myself. Allies. We are allies because she will help me prevent any more harm coming to the Council. That is what I need her for. That is all I need her for.
I force myself away from her doorway and walk briskly down the hall. I knock on Julian’s door. He answers, but he’s dressed for bed. He runs a hand over his blond hair, sleep still in his eyes. He’s about to speak, but I beat him to it.
“I need help moving a body,” I say.
His mouth opens, but then he exhales and nods. “All right, let me put on shoes.”
XXXIV.
Torren
It’s easier to move a body with two people, but not down this many steps in a narrow space. And Julian is struggling. I pause when we get to the bottom of the tower to give him a breather.
“You know, sometimes it’s really hard to be your friend, Tor.” Julian smiles while shaking out his arms.
“I’m aware.”
I put a pillowcase around the cook’s neck wound and then wrapped and tied him into bedsheets from one of the spare rooms. He lies on the ground while I wipe sweat from my forehead. I carried the body’s heavier torso, and it was no picnic to move him around the winding staircases. We’re only lucky that rigor mortis hasn’t completely set in yet.
“Any idea who killed him?” Julian asks.
We’re in a staircase where anyone can overhear us, so I shake my head no. I combed the entire celestial tower while waiting for Julian and found nothing. Whoever killed him knew to cover their tracks.
After a brief rest, Julian and I take the stairs until we reach the kitchens. Only the front door is chained. We’ll bring him out the delivery door.
There aren’t any deliveries during the conclave, since no one comes or goes, but as we pass the pantry, the lights are on, and it’s still fully stocked.
We stop again by the grain sacks, and then Julian nods for us to proceed outside.
He walks backward, making deep indentations in the snow, as we step into the cold night. We pass the woodshed and stop behind it. It’s a good place to store a body, as there isn’t food nearby and it’s decently far from the palace.
I’ve already used it once today.
My stomach bottoms out as I clear another depression in the snow, and then we lay the cook next to the mound that contains Eyo’s body.
Julian catches his breath quickly and then helps me cover the cook with tightly packed snow.
“If you’d told me he was in the tower, I would’ve posted a sentry at the door,” he says.
“I’m sure the sentry would have conveniently seen nothing.”
He shrugs. “Possibly, but then we’d know which sentries are in league with them.”
I pause. “Them? You think it’s more than one senator?”
Ice grips me, and I stomp my feet. I’ve had the same thought myself, but Julian giving it voice makes it feel even truer.
Julian shakes his head. “It’s possible, but conspiring requires trust. I don’t see any of them giving one another that kind of leverage. At least not for long.”
I stare up at the moon—so he’s had the same thoughts and come to a similar conclusion. Everyone remains a suspect.
