Paradise Plagued

by Sarah E. Burr

“Yes…I believe you did.” She pushed back the bedsheets and swung her feet down onto the stone floor. “The duchies have relied on the income provided by the nobles since the realm’s creation. Yet, the more I think about, I’m astounded no one has seen the flaw before.” Jax’s words tumbled out more quickly as the idea took shape. “What is the point of having the nobles collect the money, only to have them turn around and give it to the duchy after taking their fee? Why not simply have the money be issued directly to the ducal treasury to support the people of the region?”

  “The sovereigns would no longer need the nobles to raise money on their behalf,” Perry said.

  “And thus, the noble rank would no longer be needed.” Jax stood up and reached for her dressing gown. “You’ve given me something to think about, dearest. I need to take a walk to sort out my thoughts.”

  “Would you like me to come with you?”

  She walked to his side of the bed and kissed his soft lips. “No, try to get some sleep. I need some time to puzzle through this myself.”

  “Are you sure?” Worry creased his forehead.

  “I’ll be fine. A quick stroll through the halls, and I’ll be back. Besides, it’s late enough that the whole place is asleep.”

  She left him burying his head in the mound of pillows, closing the suite door behind her with an echoing snap. The corridor was shrouded by night, and she let her eyes adjust a moment before following the dim path laid out by the moonlight toward the stairs. None of the sconces or torches hanging from the walls were lit. The villa was encased in a strange darkness.

  Padding down the stairs as quietly as she could, Jax had the odd sense of feeling like an intruder. The Ogdams had given no indication guests couldn’t walk around the villa at night, but the sense of trespassing felt like a warning. Eager to shake it off, Jax slipped out the gold doors leading to the back terrace. Despite what she’d told Perry about remaining inside, she decided the night air would be better at calming her chaotic mind. The clear, vast midnight sky was painted with millions of starry diamonds, taking her breath away as she gazed at the sight. The stars lit up the sand dunes that surrounded the property, creating a halo of light over each ridge.

  This is true peace. Jax closed her eyes and basked in the comforting sounds of insects chirping and buzzing, along with the hot spring water trickling nearby.

  Jax took off down the steps and followed the sand-covered pathway toward the hot spring. With the sun replaced by the moon, the desert had cooled dramatically, and she found herself longing to sink into the warm waters spouting from the earth.

  Instead, she spotted a trail illuminated by the crescent moon leading off to a small desert garden. While a few trees and bushes actually grew from the ground, most of the plants stood erect in decorative pots, as they were likely not able to grow organically in the dry, sandy soil.

  “I’ll have to come back when the sun’s up to see this place in its full glory,” Jax murmured. She made note of several indentations in the pebbly sand, indicating that pots had been removed. Spying a small, glass-paned greenhouse at the back of the garden, Jax surmised the night air likely got too cold for some of the exotic vegetation and had to be relocated inside for the evening. Or perhaps the flora had been brought inside to be protected from the sandstorm.

  Walking through the garden, homesickness began to sink in. Her private gardens at the palace were breathtaking this time of year, and yet, she’d been so cooped up in her study dealing with the issues of the realm, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a stroll in her refuge. I can’t continue to sit, locked away, waiting for something to happen, she challenged herself. I have to make things right for my people. They can’t afford to wait for the other leaders to see reason. Something must be done.

  But was eradicating their dependency on the nobles the right thing, the best thing? The noble houses would certainly see it as a betrayal and retaliate. But Perry was right. As long as there were titles to be had throughout the land, there would always be a sense of inequality, that one individual was inherently better than another by virtue of their birth. It is the person, not the bloodline, that truly matters, she reminded herself in the moonlight.

  Whether it was a passing cloud, or her eyes had become fully adjusted to the night, the world around Jax seemed to brighten, illuminating the variety of leaves and blossoms remaining in the garden. On a whim, she shifted her attention back to the greenhouse. Moonlight seeped through the glass panes. She took a quick step back as she saw the shadow of a figure through one of the back windows.

  “I wonder who could be up this late…” Jax suddenly felt foolish for carrying on a conversation with herself. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she gathered the skirts of her dressing gown and strolled toward the greenhouse. Perhaps whoever was working would identify some of the floral specimens she was unfamiliar with for her.

  “Excuse me? Sorry to bother you this late, but do you have a moment?” Jax called out as she knocked on the wooden door. The glass panes rattled at the force of her knuckles.

  She didn’t hear an immediate response. Reaching for the brass handle, she pushed down on the latch and the door swung inward. “Hello?” Although the greenhouse appeared small from the outside, it stretched out before her, rows and rows of potted plants lining a path through the maze of greenery. The room seemed to darken as a wisp of cloud obscured the moon, casting a new shadow over the night.

  Searching for the figure she’d seen outside, she saw someone at the back of the room, shuffling back and forth. Whoever it was, they must have been standing on some type of elevated platform, perhaps stocking the shelves lining the back wall, because as she inched her way through the greenhouse, the figure rose higher and higher. How could they see what they were doing, she wondered. The bright crescent moon hung overhead, but was currently wreathed in cloudy shadow. “Hello?” Jax repeated, wondering if the person was so absorbed in their work they failed to hear her. But by now, she was only a few feet away and the mystery person still had not responded.

  The figure continued to sway back and forth as they noiselessly puttered on, ignoring her. Jax cursed herself for not bringing a candle or a torch. The light would have no doubt caught the figure’s attention. She worried that a sudden shout in the quiet might startle the person and cause them to lose their balance and fall.

  Just then, the moon broke through the clinging clouds and shone brightly down through the glass ceiling above her, bathing the greenhouse in cool, blue light, revealing the man not five steps ahead of her.

  Jax’s stomach hardened with rippling panic as her eyes adjusted to the shocking scene. She hadn’t interrupted someone working late at night, stocking the shelves of the greenhouse. A rush of emotions assaulted her whirling thoughts as she stared at the body of Tarek Killiam swaying from the rafters, a rope tied condemningly around his neck.

  Chapter Ten

  “Virtues, this isn’t good,” came a gruff voice from the shadows.

  Jax spun around to face the man standing in the greenhouse doorway, her heart in her throat. “Damn it, George, you nearly had two dead bodies on your hands.”

  George walked down the aisle, his outstretched arm carrying a glowing lantern. The warm flame of the flickering candle fanned across his face, revealing the worry etched in his features. “What have you gotten yourself into now?”

  Jax took the lantern from his hand and directed it toward the body, confirming the dead man was indeed Tarek. “I was taking a walk to sort out some thoughts. I thought someone was working late in the greenhouse and decided to pay them a visit to ask about some of the plant varieties.”

  George’s eyebrows knitted together. “You thought it was wise to take a stroll by yourself, in the middle of the night, and approach a figure shrouded in darkness? Virtues, Jax…” he paused, taking a deep breath through gritted teeth. “You usually display more sense than this.”

  Annoyed with his assessment, she turned her attention to Tarek. A knock
ed-over chair told her all she needed to know. “I was never in harm’s way, George. Tarek’s only victim was himself.” A heavy sadness grew in her chest. “What type of despair must a person be lost in to take their own life?” Her eyes combed over the rope, which was tied to one of the beams supporting the ceiling.

  “Hard to believe,” George said. “He seemed so confident with himself.”

  Jax chewed the inside of her cheek, a flutter of nerves raging through her. “It’s impossible to ever really know what’s going on inside someone’s head.”

  “What’s going on in yours?” George’s dark eyes were pools of concern.

  “We need to alert Master Ferran. Perhaps there is a house physician on staff to see to the body. Aside from that, I’m not sure there’s anything left for us to do.”

  George took the lantern from her trembling hand and wrapped a reassuring arm around her. “Come with me, and we’ll go find Ferran. I don’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

  “I’ll be fine.” While shocked by the macabre sight, this, unfortunately, wasn’t her first brush with an untimely death, and her curiosity won out. “I’ll see if he left a note. Tarek’s father and the Ogdams will want answers.”

  “I think you should come with me. We can look for a note later.”

  She gave him a silencing look. “Don’t be silly. There’s nothing to be afraid of. This isn’t the first dead body I’ve found.” Although, Virtues, I hope it’s the last. “Besides, haven’t you noticed…?” She pointed a slender finger at her face.

  George’s shoulders stiffened. “Your eyes.”

  “I didn’t think I’d need the dye strolling out in the darkness.” Jax shuddered. “I should have known better, I know.”

  He didn’t reprimand her, as she would have expected of her captain. He seemed to understand there was no point at the moment. “Take the lantern and head back to your suite, then. I’ll handle this,” he said as he placed the lantern on a nearby table.

  “What were you doing up, anyway? Following me?”

  George halted at her question. “I couldn’t sleep, and when I heard the door to your suite open, I went to investigate. Once I saw you taking off down the stairs by yourself without a light, I figured I’d find one and bring it to you.”

  “Ever my protector.” Jax gave him a grateful smile.

  “Be careful…” he spoke the last word in a near whisper, “Duchess.”

  She watched him retreat into the garden before turning her attention back to the pitiful scene. She had no intention of going back to her room. When George returned with help, she’d just keep to the shadows to avoid anyone seeing her royal eyes.

  She analyzed Lord Tarek Killiam, her sadness and dismay replaced with morbid interest. Why would a man, engaged to be married and inherit his father’s title, rob himself of that future? Was he just as unhappy with the arrangement as Samira?

  He must have left an explanation behind. Jax reached for the lantern. She scanned the tables around Tarek’s body, looking for a scrap of parchment that might explain his actions.

  Nothing.

  She cursed under her breath.

  Her gaze lowered to the ground, covered in bits of dirt and fallen leaves and petals, but found no note lying there.

  “Tarek, what have you done?”

  An unfamiliar voice startled Jax. Standing beside George in the doorway was a tall, lithe young man in a linen robe. The bushy black beard covering his face could not mask his distraught expression. Unshed tears glimmered in the moonlight.

  A perturbed George, clearly not pleased to see her still there, introduced the wiry-thin man to Jax. “Lady Victoire, this is Nadir Ogdam, Ferran and Abra’s son.”

  She placed the lantern on the table and backed away before they neared. The family resemblance was striking, even in the shadows. “I’m sorry to meet you under such circumstances, Nadir. Did you know Tarek well?”

  Nadir stepped toward the dangling corpse, his hands clenched behind his back, as if he were holding back a torrent of emotions. “Yes. I introduced him to my family years ago. He was a dear friend at the time.”

  Jax didn’t miss the possible hint in his wording. “At the time? Did you have a falling out?”

  “Once his engagement to my sister was announced, you could say things became strained between us.” A dark reaction flickered through his eyes. Was it regret? Or anger? “Maybe if I’d put my pride aside, I would have seen his sorrow earlier and been able to help.”

  Fearing his eyes would see the truth in her own, she lowered her head. “I’m so sorry,” was all she could think of to say.

  Nadir’s face suddenly contorted. “Why would he do this? Why would he do this to my sister? To his father? He’s disgraced his family.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Jax was taken aback by his show of temper, coming so soon after expressed sorrow.

  “In Kwatalar, taking one’s life is considered dishonorable. His father’s house will be shamed. My sister will be tainted by this act.” Nadir’s towering frame began to tremble. “How could he do this to her after everything?”

  Jax discreetly moved to George’s side. “Why did you bring him here?” she whispered.

  “I found him by the hot spring pool,” George explained in a low tone. “When I told him about Tarek, Nadir said he’d studied healing at the Academy and offered his assistance. Apparently, he’d just arrived at the estate and had been planning to take a dip. I caught his attention just before he dove in.”

  “He just arrived home? This late at night?” Jax raised her eyebrows. It was nearly two in the morning, an odd time to reach one’s destination.

  Her gaze slipped back to Tarek’s body, still hanging from the rafters. “Nadir, shouldn’t we get him down, so you can do a formal examination?”

  The young man’s voice was filled with strangled grief, the anger gone. “What’s to examine? I think the cause of death is pretty apparent.”

  “Let me help you get him inside,” George said. “I’m sure his father will want the body prepared for burial.”

  Nadir’s shoulders sagged. “I can’t imagine his father allowing a dishonored son to be buried in the family crypt, but you’re right, we can’t leave him here.”

  Jax wondered why Tarek Killiam had resigned himself to such a fate. Had he not considered the consequences of this archaic Kwatalarian code before ending his own life?

  George placed the chair upright, removed a small knife from his pocket and climbed on the seat. Stretching above Tarek’s head to reach the rope, he cut through the braided twine. Nadir held the body steady as the rope released its deadly grip, and George scrambled off the chair to help him bear the weight.

  “Lady Victoire, I think it’s time you returned to your room now.” George gave her a beseeching look from under the weight of the body.

  She nodded absently, lost in thought.

  “We’ll put him in the cellar. It will be cool enough to preserve any decay,” Nadir instructed as he and George carried Tarek’s body out of the greenhouse toward the villa.

  Jax had observed the scene with keen interest, her eyes watching George as he positioned the chair, climbed on it and struggled to cut Tarek down. Left alone in the deserted greenhouse, she replayed the scene in her mind. George moving the chair, George reaching up to cut the rope. What about it didn’t add up?

  A small gasp escaped her lips as it clicked into place. George could barely reach above Tarek’s head! Considering George was several inches taller than Tarek, it would have been impossible for Tarek to stand on the chair, reach the rafters, and tie the noose himself. And that begged the foreboding question: How in Virtues did he get up there?

  Chapter Eleven

  The flickering flame revealed the candle fueling the lantern had nearly melted down. Jax knew she had to leave before it went out completely, but vowed to return once the sun rose. She doubted Nadir planned to immediately wake the other Ogdams and share news of Tarek’s passing, so she hoped she�
�d be able to do it herself, or at least be there when they were informed. She wanted to gauge the reactions of the family to see if they mirrored their son’s despair-turned-callousness.

  George met her on the steps of the patio, his face a mask of displeasure. “Never have I seen such disrespect for the dead. Whatever their customs, a man took his life tonight. That should warrant sympathy, not contempt. Nadir could barely look at Tarek’s body.”

  “I’m just as surprised as you are.” Jax folded her arms around herself tightly, fighting back the chill lacing the air. “I didn’t realize Kwatalar had such a drastic code. I’d expect it of the Ancient Faith, given their gods pass judgment on the living, but not from Children of the Virtues. Tarek deserves compassion, not shame.” Lowering her voice, she added, “Although, there’s something troubling me about the whole situation.”

  George’s glinting eyes narrowed. “I was wondering if you’d catch on. The knot in that rope was way too high for Tarek to have tied it while standing on the chair.”

  “He could have climbed up somehow, tied the noose, then set himself up with the chair…” she puzzled, shuddering as the image unfolded in her mind. “I want to go back out there once the sun is up and take a closer look.”

  “May I remind you of the attention your interest in a relative stranger’s death might bring to our little party?”

  “Something doesn’t feel right to me, George. We need to make sure there’s not something more sinister at play here.”

  He shifted on his feet. “You think this might have something to do with you?”

  Jax shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seems odd that the day I arrive, a man ends up dead.”

  “It’s not as though that’s never happened before.”

  Jax reprimanded him for his gallows humor. “Not appropriate, Captain.”

  George sobered. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive. I suppose it’s due to lack of sleep. Let’s return to our rooms, and we can reconvene in the morning.”