He can’t let this desire bleed out.
17
No Witnesses but the Palace Walls
Seren’searsringinthe emptiness. Four other people crowd the ornate office, all talking and breathing and moving, but Seren’s mind is quiet. Three days since Primrose’s lesson, he still hasn’t adjusted. Nobody else’s emotions intrude on his heart. He has to rely on facial expressions and body language to read the room.
Unless he uses his magic.
“Thank you for coming,” Seren says, leaning against the desk. Then he straightens, feeling disrespectful. This isn’t his office. Well, it is, technically. That’s even worse.
The private office is housed in a tower adjacent to the royal living quarters, right below an impressive greenhouse. Gilded woodwork, sculpted green glass, and crystal lanterns all conspire to hide the lack of windows. Shelves encircle the walls, filled with a wealth of books and ornaments.
The small group watches him intently. Nevander stands to Seren’s left, stern as ever. Tansy lounges against the door, like he’s ready to bolt. Idalia of the royal guard currently balances on one leg. At her side stands another guard, Mustardseed.
One of the first to find Haelwen’s body.
“Nevander and I will go through Haelwen’s personal effects,” Seren continues. He doesn’t even stumble over the name. “I would appreciate your help skimming through her books.”
Mustardseed shifts his weight. He’s a lean man with rich brown skin. The pin holding his locs matches his leafwork armor. “May I ask, if you don’t mind, what does Your Highness hope to find?”
Great question. Seren shrugs. “I hope to find precise plans for Queen Haelwen’s ritual. A journal would be nice. Maybe a list of conspirators.”
Tansy laughs. He’s the first to realize Seren has made a joke.
Perhaps Nevander notices too. If so, he doesn’t laugh. “Start with the books,” Nevander says, indicating. “Set aside anything pertaining to rituals, enchantments, or spellbreaking. Theoretical or historical.”
“Yes, my lord,” Idalia says, bowing from her one-legged pose.
Tansy raises his hand. “Question. Why amIhere?”
“If you’re going to haunt the palace libraries, I prefer to supervise,” Nevander says drily.
Seren moves around the desk. He can’t bring himself to sit on the velvet bench. “You don’t have to help. We can manage. Mustardseed, may I speak with you?”
Seren isn’t good at giving orders yet, but he doesn’t need to. The gathering shifts according to the suggestion. Idaliahops to the nearest bookshelf, and Nevander begins sorting a box of letters.
Tansy lingers near the door, like he’s considering leaving. Like he feels a trap closing around him. Then he scowls and grabs a heavy book.
Years of unwanted empathy have taught Seren a few things. Pushing Tansy to return will only harden his resolve. Seren needs to circle around the subject, starting with accustoming Tansy to his company.
He doesn’t have much hope for this investigation. But part of Primrose’s lesson has burrowed deeper under his skin. The mystery of the First Queen’s demise. Seren hates the thought that a thousand years from now, a child might learn the same story about Haelwen.
Once upon a time, a queen died, and nobody knows how.
Seren has lost too much. He won’t let Haelwen rob him of this answer, too. He has to do something, and accessing Haelwen’s private office is something only he can do. And he’ll learn more about Elladar along the way. Not that he’ll become a king like Nevander wants. But knowledge might help him escape.
Mustardseed’s half-bow breaks Seren’s reverie. “What did you wish to ask, before I begin my task?”
Seren barely resists apologizing for his inattention. “I wished to…” His mind catches up to his ears. “Are you rhyming on purpose?”
A grin lights up Mustardseed’s violet eyes. “Alas, I was cursed as a child. A fair price for playing in the wild.”
“My condolences,” Seren says, startled. “I think.”
Mustardseed shrugs with a clink of armor. “By now, it’s a comfortable habit, although I must rhyme that with ‘rabbit.’”
That must be very inconvenient. Seren should ask Nevander how to avoid such curses. “I’ve heard you were among the last to see Haelwen alive,” Seren says, because speaking plainly is easier. “And among the first to find her dead. Did anything strange stand out?”