At that moment, the double doors to the queen’s study opened a few feet before me. Out walked Queen Cordelia herself.
“What is going on?” Her Majesty said.
Ash stared at the unmoving body at his feet. “Someone is poisoning you, Mother.”
Queen Cordelia swayed. I rushed over to steady her. The hand that gripped my arm was frighteningly white. “I’ve been afraid of this,” she said. Her voice was so faint that only I could hear it. She turned to me, her expression almost pleading. “Who did they say it was?”
“Captain Greenwood, Your Majesty,” I said hoarsely.
Her face drained of color and she swooned, buckling to the floor. Ash was instantly by her side.
“Somebody take the queen to her chambers!” he said. Several maids came at his call. They took Her Majesty by her arms and led her away. The red aura around her pulsed, now a bright scarlet.
The three guards who had left appeared, holding a fistful of letters and a box. “Poison, Your Highness. And proof.”
Ash grabbed a letter, scanned it, and crumpled it. “Arrest him. Immediately.”
“Yes, Your Highness!”
The guards streamed out of the hall, their faces pinched and ashen—faces of men about to arrest their own captain. I stared at the floor. It was a mess of broken porcelain and tea and soaked biscuits. The tea was still oozing cyan. The queen’s aura had been red. The queen’s drink had been red at the Debutante Ball—the drink the duchess had given her.
I didn’t know how long I knelt there before Ash touched my shoulder. “Amarante,” he said in a low voice. I realized then the hall was empty, save for us and Peter’s body. No one had bothered to take him away.
“Search him,” I said, standing up. “We have to search him.”
He grabbed my arm before I could take a step toward the corpse. “I’m sorry you had to witness that. You should go home.”
I shook him off and trotted over to Peter’s limp form, running my hands over the dead man’s chest and arms.
“Amarante,whatare you doing?” Ash said, flabbergasted.
I’d never touched a man so liberally before, much less a dead one, but determination saved me from embarrassment. There was a lump at his side, and I pulled back his tunic to reveal a bulging leather pouch strapped to his waist. I pulled it off and dumped the contents onto the floor. Heavy golden coins spilled onto the marble.
Ash crouched beside me. “The captain paid him a hefty sum,” he said, looking at the coins in disgust.
“It wasn’t the captain,” I said.
He exhaled. “I know the Strongfoots respect him. But Amarante, the proof is not in his favor.”
I picked up a coin and flipped it over. It was stamped with an elaborate insignia—a snake entwined in roses.
“Is that...?” Ash said.
I knew the design too well at this point to mistake it. “The duchess’s emblem,” I finished. I recalled what Tori told me about illustrious families having their own gold stamped with their emblem.
“Of course. This complicates things.” Ash stood again and paced the width of the hallway. He stopped. “How could you have known?”
I set down the coin. “I thought I saw the duchess slip something into Her Majesty’s goblet back at the Debutante Ball.”
Ash knelt and gripped my shoulders. “You did? Why didn’t you tell me?”
I faltered, startled by the urgency of his voice and stare. “I-I couldn’t have been sure,” I said.
He blinked and released his hold, but not before smoothing my sleeves. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me. Of course you couldn’t have been sure.”
“It’s fine.” I shoveled the coins back into the pouch. “I think there might be a way to find out. Have you got a royal inspector?”
