Erasmus leaned over, a sparkle glinting in his heavy-lidded eyes. “Did you know how Humphrey died?”
I shook my head.
“The old boy choked on candied pineapple.” He guffawed. “Can you believe it? What a way to go! Served him right for banishing those poor witches.”
I let out a giggle as Ash came in with another pair of gloves and something wrapped in brown paper.
“What’s so funny?”
Telling him that we were making fun of his late grandfather choking on candy did not seem appropriate, so I remained silent and Erasmus gestured for the gloves. Ash unwrapped the parcel and gingerly placed the queen’s jeweled goblet on the work table.
“The kitchen maids said they cleaned it thoroughly since the Debutante Ball,” Ash said.
Erasmus resumed his gruff demeanor. “I did not ask, boy. Now move back. I have to work in peace.”
Ash looked as if he was going to say something but thought better of it. He joined me by the barrels. One of them creaked as he sat. “The old dingbat didn’t make you uncomfortable when I left, did he?”
I smiled. “Erasmus? He’s not so bad.”
A few minutes of silence interrupted by occasional grunts and curses from the inspector passed. It wasn’t long before he removed his gloves again.
“There’s definitely poison,” he said as Ash and I approached the cluttered table. “Though I have no idea what it is.”
“What do you mean?” Ash demanded. I didn’t think he meant to sound so rude, but Erasmus harrumphed.
“There is irregular texture inside the goblet,” the inspector said, tilting it toward us. “But I will need some time if I want to extract the particles of poison, if there are any left.”
Indeed, on close inspection, the bottom of the goblet was rougher compared to the smooth edges, as if something had corroded it. It was so subtle that it could’ve been mistaken for embellishment on passing. I touched my crystal. A golden glow emitted from the rough patches, but quickly faded into a red aura. My fingers were stiff as I let go of my crystal. Every other substance I had sensed with my magic had some useful property or other. But this was entirely different. The sickening scarlet fumes had but one purpose—to kill. And a witch had made it.
Ash shook his head and looked to me. “You were right then.”
“That means someone framed Captain Greenwood,” I said.
Erasmus furrowed his brow. “I’d investigate thoroughly if I were you. Whoever did this is exceptionally crafty. The poison was coated on the edges and insides of the goblet.” He pointed to a spot on the rim that had the same rough patch.
“What does that mean?” I said.
“The poison was not in the drink. It was smeared on the goblet beforehand.”
Ash and I left Erasmus’s laboratory in grim spirits. It was well past noon, but I had long forgotten about rushing to the Strongfoots’ luncheon. How could a witch create such a deadly poison? How did it get into the hands of Duchess Wilhelmina?
“I can’t believe the duchess is capable of doing all this,” I said, more to myself than to Ash. How could the woman who stressed the importance of eating salad with the correct fork commit treason?
“She’s more than capable,” Ash said, surprising me. His face was stony.
I stopped walking. We lingered in the hallway before the endless row of portraits I had passed a week ago. Ash stared at the painting before him, which depicted two men and two women, all young and exceptionally good-looking. The placard underneath read:Prince Maximus Median, Princess Cordelia Arcia, Miss Wilhelmina Bellerose, and Lord Maverick Greenwood.
It was odd to see Queen Cordelia and King Maximus so young, but even stranger to see the duchess’s face smooth and radiant and smiling.
Ash looked at the floor. “Do you remember my governess?”
I nodded.
“She was Duchess Wilhelmina.”
––––––––
NEWS OF CAPTAIN GREENWOOD’Sarrest spread like wildfire. The morning after, articles about the queen’s poisoning were plastered all over the newspaper. Lord Strongfoot was enraged.
