It must have been my nerves.
By some miracle, Father emerged from the crowd, sword in hand. His shoulders sagged in relief when he locked eyes with us. Maddox materialized behind him, eyes wide with fear. It was the first time he looked anything other than angry.
“It’s over,” Father said, breathless. “One assassin killed. The rest...gone.”
***
DESPITE THE BREVITYof the attack, the chaos did not subside for another twenty minutes. By then, most guests had already fled. Those injured from the throng stayed to be treated.
Father remained behind, as did General Killian Turner and several others. We were instructed to wait at the benches for him, but I found myself listening in.
“Why,” King Maximus said as he paced before his throne, “do these things always happen in the blasted ballroom?” Broken glass crunched beneath his boots.
Father knelt, his borrowed sword clattering to his side. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. If I had been more aware—”
General Turner stepped forward, his arm hanging in a sling. “No, Maverick. I was on duty. It is my fault, Your Majesty. If you deem it appropriate to strip me of my title—”
The king exhaled. “No, General. The attackers came from above and you were injured. But I expected you to appoint trustworthy guards in the back. It seems an excess of...winter solsticecheercaused them to neglect their duties,” he said drily, brushing off his ermine coat. “Be sure this never happens again.”
General Turner lowered his head. “They will be properly punished.”
King Maximus nodded, then turned his eyes to the body laid out on a stretcher. It was clothed in black. The covering had been lifted, revealing the face of a long-chinned man with gold marks speckled across his cheeks.
“Someone explain this to me,” he said, frowning heavily at the group of people—witches, I realized—behind Father. All of them had an ornate golden pin in the shape of an acorn on their clothing, which gleamed underneath the remaining candlelight. They were the witch committee Elowyn was speaking of.
Behind them was a cluster of old men dressed in emerald green robes. The king’s council. One of them stepped up.
“These witches have outstayed their welcome,” the councilman said with a sneer. “They have become bold enough as to attack the royal family.”
A woman from the witch committee bristled. She looked a great deal like Elowyn. “We can assure you witches have no part in this,” she said.
“What proof do you have, Rowena, when that man was levitating before our eyes?” Crown Prince Bennett asked from his seat on the dais. He sounded surprisingly calm for someone who was almost killed. “Surely you cannot speak for all witches.”
Rowena walked over to the body and rubbed her finger over a spot of gold on the dead man’s cheek. It flaked off. She examined the substance.
“Gold leaf,” she said, “not witch traits. He was an impersonator.”
King Maximus frowned. “The fact that he is not a witch himself does not mean he was not working with any. Perhaps a witch levitated him.”
Rowena directed her gaze to the shattered window above them. She stared for so long I was convinced she had fallen asleep standing, until she lifted her hand and grabbed something I couldn’t see.
“Suspension wires,” she said. She let them fall to the marble, where the wires curled in on themselves with a twang. “Imperceptible during the night. They’re common in theatrical productions, if I’m not mistaken.”
Crown Prince Bennett stared at the wires. “Someone must’ve built a rigging system above the window frame for that to work.”
“Actually...they have,” Father spoke up, his brow furrowed. “Just last week, in fact, my men reported beams of wood and rope on the ballroom roof. It was the same time general repairs were going on in the palace—I assumed that was what it was.”
“So the intruders had access to the grounds,” the crown prince said.
King Maximus flushed red. “Has palace security gotten so incompetent as to let these things happen?” he demanded.
Father and General Turner bowed their heads.
The king muttered to himself, dragging a hand over his face. “Maverick. I need to know who those assassins are and what their motive is.”
“Father,” the crown prince said. “I believe I have an answer.”
“What is it, Bennett?”
