“I need to keep this,” I say, holding it closer.
However, Aethelthryth reaches for it.
“I’m afraid not,” she says, her tone making it clear that it isn’t up for debate. “This note is court property. It’s not yours to keep.”
From her hard expression, I know arguing isn’t going to get me anywhere. So, I take one last look at the letters before handing over the note, burning them into my memory.
Now that I’m no longer holding it, I look around the courtyard with new eyes.
Henry lurking in the shadows. Victoria’s barely concealed hostility—she must have followed Aethelthryth and I outside—and Sophia standing behind her, unable to meet my eyes. Aurora studying me, as if she’s trying to read my mind. Even the handlers have their wings on high alert, as if they’re on edge, too.
“The king will want this cleaned up before the court wakes,” Aurora says from next to me, as serene as always. “We wouldn’t want to spoil anyone’s appetite.”
She’s watching me carefully, like this is some kind of test.
I can’t fail it. I don’t know why, but I feel like my safety here might depend on it.
“Yes,” I agree with her, and her lips curve slightly, as if I’ve passed. “Someone should clean this up.”
Then, I turn on my heel and head out of the courtyard with measured steps, passing Victoria and Sophia as I do.
“I hope you enjoy breakfast with Aerix,” I tell Victoria, hurrying away before she can reply.
I don’t look back at Matt’s body.
I can’t.
All I can do is walk into my suite, enter my room, and cross to where my painting hangs—the one Aerix altered—focusing on where he signed his name with a flourish at the bottom corner.
My fingers trace his signature, studying each curve and slash of the letters. The way his capital A swoops gracefully, missing that tiny curl from the note. How his lowercase T’s cross with a gentler line.
Aerix didn’t write that note.
Which means someone else is watching over me. Someone powerful enough to kill without consequence. Someone who wants to make sure everyone knows I’m protected.
The question is… who?
