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Arabar looked at him. "Your mother, Majesty?"

"She was the last person I spoke to before Asharin was poisoned. She told me something that sent me running back to the palace." He paused. "I do not know yet whether that was intentional. Until I do, she does not leave."

Arabar nodded.

"Our first order of business is eyes on Asharin," Colsar said. "Teorin cannot be trusted. I did not send Asharin to Morrath because I trusted him. I sent her because I had no choice." He stopped and grabbed Arabar's arm. "Eravic Vaelor is known for his honesty. I have never liked the way he looks at her. But that is my problem and right now I need someone who will not lie to me about what he sees." He paused. "Travel directly to his ship. Find him yourself. Give him the news in person. Tell him I need eyes in Morrath. I assume he can enter. They always say there is nowhere a Vaelor cannot go."

Arabar nodded.

"Junis should be on board with him. I assume he will bring Vaelor’s ship to dock here in Veynar. Once he arrives, he can help. He is one of the few people left that I trust.”

"And Alarna?"

"Send word to Syle and Uralish. Quietly. Tell them the regent of Veynar is requesting their presence and their assistance bringing the killer to justice. They will understand what I am asking."

"And the Fyrekin council?"

"I need more of them here. More council members. Send word." He paused. "Do it through channels I can verify."

Arabar nodded once and went.

Colsar stood alone in the corridor.

He closed his eyes.

The Wanderer came without sound, which was not how things that large usually arrived. It filled the corridor with heat and the smell of something ancient, its red wings folding as it landed, its eyes finding him with the intelligence of creatures that had been doing this longer than anyone alive could account for.

He opened his right palm. The mark Kentan had pressed there was faint but present, the burn long since healed into something permanent. He held it up.

The wanderer dipped its head.

Then it was gone, through the palace wall and into whatever was between here and Urasal, carrying nothing and everything, its wings leaving a warmth in the corridor that faded slowly.

Colsar looked at his empty hand.

Then he started walking.

He walked back through the palace with his face arranged into nothing. Guards straightened as he passed. Servants moved out of his way. He did not look at any of them.

He walked past the throne room. Past the Great Hall with its boarded window, the glass still not fully cleared from the floor. Past the corridor where Wyn had been found. He did not look at any of it.

Their chambers were at the end of the east wing.

He went in and closed the door behind him and stood in the dark for a moment. The room smelled like her. He had not expected that. He did not know why he had not expected that.

He crossed to the bed and sat on her side and pressed his face into her pillow and stayed there.

It smelled like her hair. Like the warmth of her skin in the mornings when she had not yet fully woken up and would reach for him without opening her eyes.

He stayed there for a long time.

His mind drifted to the Moon Chambers. He had never gotten to show them to her. Never gotten to see her face when she saw the plants, the chocolate fountain, and every other ridiculous little detail he had added because he knew they would make her smile.

He had pretended it had needed to be prepared from disuse. In truth, he had wanted it prepared with everything she loved. An ordinary garden would have been boring. He had asked them to find strange fruits that could survive in such an environment. He had wanted so badly to see her face when she saw it. He had even had them prepare a bed almost twice the size of anything they had ever slept on, so the children could snuggle comfortably during story time.

It was probably ready by now.

If she were here, they would have read to the children and then pretended to retire early. Then they would bathe together. She would run her fingers through his hair while he told her every unnecessary detail of the day’s council meetings, and she would listen. She would give her opinion. She would remember the smallest details from the day before because she always did.