Heat rushes through me as I remember him pinning me against the wall. I look away and focus on Zel.
“In that case, please explain this.” He takes out a blade from behind the dresser and holds it with a handkerchief. It’s fairly plain, but around a foot long and razor-sharp.
Zel’s eyes go wide. “I can’t… That’s not mine. I didn’t bring it, sir.”
That is also the truth.
Torren frowns. “It was in your things—hidden in this mess. It is quite similar to the one thrown at me last night.” He shrugs and then continues. “I also want to inquire about your book on poisons.”
“I don’t have a book on poisons,” she says.
I wait for a tell, but she is speaking the truth.
He holds up a leather-bound book titledToxic Horticulture and Herb Science. Just like with the tea last night, I’ve never known Zel to be interested in science, either. What is that book doing in her bedchamber?
Tears of confusion swim in her eyes as she shakes her head, causing a few drops to splash onto her skirts. I’m positive she’s never seen that book or the dagger before.
“Have you stayed alone in your room this whole time?” I ask.
I can feel Torren’s gaze on me, but I keep my focus on Zel.
“I…I… Yes, yes, I have.” She rubs her thumb and forefinger together at a rapid rate.
I suppress a sigh.
“I will need to question you further,” the Praetorian says.
The words are like a knife to the heart, sending shock waves through my chest. I know that tone. I said I didn’t think he was a monster, but he is going to torture Zel—a girl who is only a child.
She gets so pale and breathes so rapidly that I worry she’ll faint.
“No. You won’t.” I physically step in between her and Torren.
He slowly shakes his head. “High Priestess, you do not have authority here.”
His tone sounds more resigned than anything else, and he is correct. If we were in the temple of truth, I could order him out. But this is Jubilee, not my temple. Still, I hold my ground. I don’t care what the laws are; I won’t stand idly by.
“She is a child and my responsibility,” I say.
“She is an incriminated suspect.”
“Based on a book? A plain blade that wasn’t used in any murder?” I ask. That amount of evidence wouldn’t be enough to justify him disturbing my teatime, but the standard is different for a servant. “If you insist on proceeding, I will go to the Council and request a halt to your investigation.”
He slowly opens the book, then extends it toward me. Inside the pages is a pair of small crushed spectacles. I gasp. Those were Antinous’s.
“You may, but you won’t win,” he says. “Not in my investigation of a servant.”
“How… I don’t understand,” I say. Then I turn my head toward Zel.
“I’ve never seen those before—I swear!” Her eyes are large and panicked as she looks from us to the glasses and back again. “Who do they belong to?”
I stare at her, but she has no idea who wore them. Someone placed all this here—possibly the person she is covering for, the one who might’ve murdered Antinous.
But to admit I know that much would result in an inquisition.
“This is all far too convenient, and you know it,” I say to the Praetorian.
“I can’t assume that, Kerasea,” Torren says.
