Osian’s grip on him tightened. ‘I am very glad of that. And I meant my oath.’
‘I could have killed you, you had to know that.’
‘A risk worth taking.’ The depth of Osian’s voice, the rumble in his chest, chased heat through Meilyr’s flesh. ‘Besides, if you had killed me, I would probably have deserved it.’
An exhausted, delirious catch of breath. Meilyr wanted to stay like this, in this wild and unbelievable fondness.
They both drew back, feeling the shift together.
‘Osian, whoever killed Lord Gelens had to have been close.’ The words finally spilled, sap from a wound. ‘They will have had physical contact with them, at least once, and need to have been close when they transformed. I assumed within sight, but I do not know. Whoever the sorcerer is, they are very, very powerful. Someone present at every killing, and able to get close to each victim. Able to take in a part of them, somehow weave them with each plant and manipulate the life within their bodies.’
Osian’s eyes darkened. ‘Someone at court, as we assumed.’
‘Almost certainly. I also believe they are following instructions, or an old ritual. I found a parchment which suggests they have a larger goal than merely killing Khaimfolc, though I need to decipher it better.’
‘A parchment?’
‘Yes, it is in your rooms, I will show you. I – I should have told you all this sooner, but…’
‘You thought I would have you killed.’ Osian considered. ‘Almost everyone should be in the Great Hall. Whoever has done this will likely have made their way there to appear inconspicuous.’
The thought crept in, and Meilyr looked the way they had come. The gardens remained rain-washed and still.
‘What is it?’ Osian asked.
‘I wonder if that attack was meant for you.’
‘Or you.’
‘No – no, this is about revenge against Khaim, it has to be…’
Oh, gods—
‘Celyn!’ Meilyr lurched into a sprint back the way they had come.
‘Meilyr!’
They tore through the rain-weeping hydrangeas and rhododendrons, the forsythia and lavender. Back up the terraces and through the arches, wet boots pounding on stone, around the corner, and another—
‘Majesty! Highness, thank the gods!’
Osian had taken the lead as they neared the cloister. They both slowed at the sight of the crownsblood staring in horror at the mess on the floor.
‘Your charges,’ Osian said at once. ‘They are safe?’
‘Yes – yes, Majesty, I left Kinsey there. We heard awful sounds, and a struggle.’
‘You have seen no one else? Not a soul?’
‘None, Majesty. Swear on my own.’
Osian and Meilyr caught their breath. Osian said, ‘Thank you. Return to your post, and do not let anyone approach. We will deal with this.’
In the stillness after their departure, the two of them surveyed the state of what had been the king’s truth-reading adviser.
Osian retrieved his sword from where he had let it fall, and their eyes met.
There was only one thing to do.