I continue around the shed, hoping I had the wrong side, but no, all I find is green grass. The fire superheated the ground around the shed, either by design or accidentally.
But where are the bodies? Two corpses didn’t just disappear.
I stop and stare at the blaze, chilled even in the heat. I can’t see inside the shed, but I know that the bodies are burning right now. That’s why the air smells like charred flesh.
River of Death.
I turn and narrow my eyes at the palace. Someone in there set this fire; someone wanted to destroy the evidence of Eyo’s poisoning. That person knew where I put the bodies and knew that Kerasea could divine a murder. They have been watching me, watchingusthis entire time.
My stomach turns as my resolve cements. I need to finish this before they finish us.
XLIV.
Kerasea
The Praetorian smells like a bonfire as I follow closely on his heels. His anger is obvious from his posture and tensed muscles, but more than that—he won’t even look at me. Instead, he careens straight ahead.
When he came back into the banquet hall, he was dressed in armor. He stood at attention and reported that Senator Eyo’s body was lost in the blaze. This news was met with great consternation by the Council. They were displeased with him keeping the body in the woodshed, but I’m not sure where they wanted the corpse. It’s not like he could’ve been kept on ice in the banquet room.
We reach the third floor, and the Praetorian continues past his room and mine. His strides are so long and quick that I nearly have to jog to keep up. But he stops in front of Zel’s door and knocks twice.
There is no answer.
“She is probably still down at dinner,” I say.
“Just as well.”
He takes a skeleton key from his pocket, and I stare at the ridges as he puts it into the lock. I’m not sure why I haven’t thought of the fact that he would have access to every room in this palace—including mine—this whole time. It’s how he spied on me in the divining room. Has he been in my bedchamber without my knowledge?
No. He wouldn’t abuse his power. He’s not that type of person.
Just as before, the room is a mess. I don’t go into Zel’s private quarters at the temple, so I’m not sure if she always lives this way. I can’t imagine so, but she is only fourteen—maybe her parents clean up after her.
“Do you want to tell me what you are looking for?” I ask.
“Evidence,” he says.
That’s a no.
The window is open, giving the room a chill. It was also open last night. I would think more of it, but her room doesn’t have a balcony, and we are three stories up.
The Praetorian performs a general sweep of her bedroom and bathroom and then a more focused check of every corner of her chambers. He’s locked in like a hound on the scent of a fox, but he moves items to the side gently, disturbing little despite the chaos. I’m still not sure what he’s looking for, but he’s almost done when Zel opens the door.
“Excellency,” she says, bobbing a curtsy. She freezes with her eyes wide on the Praetorian. “Sir. What are you… Why are you… How can I help you both?”
She had no idea we were in here. I must’ve put her mind at ease before dinner when I pretended like everything was fine.
“I have more questions for you,” Torren says to Zel. “Take a seat, please.”
“Yes, sir.” She circles wide around him but trips over a stepstool before righting herself and sitting on the bed. She swallows hard and folds her shaking hands on her lap, cheeks coloring and looking like she’s on the verge of tears.
He hasn’t asked a single question yet.
“Did you bring any blades to the conclave? For the High Priestess or otherwise?” he asks.
She shakes her head. “No, sir.”
I study her, and she’s telling the truth. No one is supposed to bring weapons aside from him, but he saw my golden dagger, of course, at his throat.
