Everything in the High Priestess’s voice and manner acknowledges the strangeness of this interaction.
Zel nods. “I’ll be right in.”
I raise a hand, looking at Zel. “In your chambers, please.”
Kera looks over her shoulder at me. “The wardrobe is in mine.”
“But the trunks are in hers.”
I didn’t see any in the room when Kerasea had her door open earlier. And I have to figure out what the girl is hiding.
Zel’s eyes go even wider. “My room is… It’s quite messy.”
“That’s all right, Zel,” Kerasea says.
The girl takes a deep breath and nods a couple of times. “Hold on just a moment. I need to move the chair and some other things out of the way so that I can open the door.”
She shuts the door, and I wonder if this girl could have worn the robe and thrown the dagger. It would explain her obvious guilt and strange behavior. She had the time to flee up the stairs and change. But surely she doesn’t have the strength to hold the door closed on two grown men.
“You ask her.” I hand the robe to Kerasea.
Her eyes flash with surprise, but she nods and tucks the fabric under her arm.
Again, I’m taken aback by her willingness. Perhaps she meant it when she agreed to align with me. But looking at Kera in a new light has its own problems. The draw I’ve been feeling becomes an undeniable magnet, and that’s a distraction. Even if she’s not the same girl she once was, she still caused the ruin of my family.
This is a temporary alliance. Nothing more.
I take a step away and stand at attention.
A few moments later, a chair scrapes the floor, then the door opens. The room is, in fact, a mess. In the legions, everything we carry must be folded and put in place. This girl has never heard of the concept.
Or maybe the whole point is chaos so that it’s harder to find something amiss.
Her room is as large as mine, as they are all guest bedrooms of the old king, but hers is cramped. Makeup, a clothes press, books, and linens are strewn around the room as if it were hit by a windstorm. The window is open, but that wasn’t the cause.
There is an en suite bathroom to the left. I step toward it.
“What are you doing, sir?” she asks.
“Investigating,” I say.
She doesn’t say anything in return. I open the door and look around. The bathroom is also messy, but it all seems like the normal items a teenage girl would have. The tub is empty—no weapons or obvious vials of poison in here, although there are plenty of terra-cotta pots and glass jars. I could toss the room and conduct a thorough search, but it appears unlikely I’d find anything of interest, and Kerasea would likely object anyway. Right now we are in accord. It’s best to keep it that way.
I walk back into the bedchamber. Kerasea sits in an armchair across from Zel, who perches on the side of the bed, looking embarrassed but not guilty. She is patting Zel’s hand. Kerasea looks at me and stops. Then she leans closer to her servant.
“Zel, this was found by the kitchens,” Kerasea says. “Have you seen it before?”
She shows her servant the robe I found, but interestingly, she doesn’t mention that I was attacked. It’s the same way I questioned her earlier.
“That is a priest’s robe, Excellency.” Zel looks completely confused as to why Kerasea would ask.
“Did you bring this to Jubilee?” Kerasea asks.
Zel shakes her head. “No.”
I watch her closely. She’s being honest, but she’s also hiding something. Her shoulders curve in, her fingers fidgeting.
“Were you in this room all night?” I ask.
