Meilyr kept his expression as levelled as possible. Lord Gelens watched him.
‘And?’ Osian asked. ‘The last I heard, it was not illegal or damning to have a sibling.’
‘Sometimes damning,’ Aldreda corrected.
‘Sometimes damning.’
‘There was no mention of it,’ Radnor continued. There was a scar across his eyebrow that tensed when he was annoyed, as he was now. ‘A sibling should be listed in the notes I was provided. Either this was an unforgiveable accident, or a deliberate falsehood.’
‘Careful, Captain,’ Osian said. ‘Do not accuse the Crown of lying without evidence.’
‘The evidence—’
‘He has a bond-brother, yes. As they are not blood relatives, I fail to see how this pertains to the killing of Lord Leighton.’
Meilyr was both glad and terrified that Celyn had been released, and that Osian had the apothecary watched.
‘I agree with His Majesty,’ said Lord Gelens, stunning everyone, their voice honey-smooth. ‘It seems you have all the information you require at this moment, Captain. I would leave innocents out of this, or risk disturbing the populace, which is the last thing any of us want.’
Spoken like the truth, even as it stirred the hairs at the back of Meilyr’s neck.
Aldreda raised her eyebrows and cast a subtle sideways glance at Osian.
‘We have an isolated incident,’ Lord Gelens continued, ‘likely perpetrated by someone holding a personal grudge against Lord Leighton, perhaps even from his own March. I trust you have drawn an extensive list of suspects, Captain?’
The captain turned his martially perfect stance towards Lord Gelens. ‘Given the prince consort’s proximity at the time of the killing, and that we have all but ruled out a rogue member of the populace—’
‘Oh, have we? I must have missed that. To me, it sounds as though a meagre search was performed of the area, seeking an individual who almost certainly was not working alone. I am afraid you might be a little too close to this, Captain. Perhaps your personal feelings about the Denelander populace are clouding your judgement?’
The scar above Radnor’s eye constricted. ‘If the Lord Adviser believes so.’
‘No need for that,’ Lord Gelens dismissed. ‘I am merely here to ensure all avenues are thoroughly investigated.’ They looked at Meilyr and Osian, expression serene. ‘Apologies for having you both summoned so early. That will be all for now, Majesty. Highness.’
Osian touched Meilyr’s elbow as they left the solar. In the insular corridor beyond, as Ser Pedr and Ser Blythe fell into step behind, the unease refused to unlatch itself from Meilyr’s skin. Why had Lord Gelens moved the investigation so readily away from Celyn?
As they neared a staircase, Lady Faina was coming down it, coughing. She had been coughing at dinner the previous night as well, trying to cover it.
She startled as she saw them, clutching the banister. ‘Ah, Majesty. Highness. Please excuse me, I forgot something.’
She disappeared back upstairs, a single cough echoing before her footsteps faded.
‘My Prince,’ Meilyr asked in the stillness, ‘might I walk the gardens?’
‘You do not have to ask. All I request is that Pedr remain with you.’
Of course. Ser Pedr had been assigned to him, a constant presence. The knight saluted with their hand to their chest in fealty, and Osian kissed Meilyr’s hand before they parted.
A break in the rain was not quite enough to populate the gardens with courtiers and nobles, so Meilyr moved with purpose. Ser Pedr remained watchful as he went about ducking down in his fine tunics to pluck shoots, leaves and petals from here and there.
He was almost done when he and Haydn spotted each other, and Meilyr’s chest did a little thump of worry and relief. Haydn’s face lit up as though the sun had risen for the first time all year.
Ser Pedr followed at a watchful distance. Which was fine, nothing was happening.
‘Ordinary prince consort activities?’ Haydn asked, noting Meilyr’s handful of plant matter.
‘The most ordinary. I wonder, is there any more nettle?’
‘Of course. If you’ll follow me, Highness.’